Bound to Four

Day 6 Minutes

Steam filled the shower chamber, heavy and suffocating, each droplet clinging to the air until the room’s boundaries blurred. Liora pressed her back against the cool tile as she knelt beside Rook, peeling away torn, blood-soaked fabric. Her fingers trembled beneath the weight of his body as he sank to the floor, knees buckling on the slick stone. A jet of hot water cascaded over his wounds. He hissed, a harsh intake of breath as the scalding streams struck raw flesh.

His bulk pressed into her, a paradox of strength and vulnerability. Though the smallest of their quartet, he could never be called slight. Water cascaded over his chest, mingling with rivulets of blood that hissed as they met the hot spray. He drew in a sharp, pained breath.

“Sorry,” Liora whispered, the word nearly lost in the hiss of the shower. She tilted her head, concern knitting her brow. “Why aren’t you healing?”

Rook’s voice emerged rough, like gravel underfoot. He lifted a wrist, the metal band a cruel ring around his skin. Seeing it close up, Liora saw that the iron cuff was etched with glowing runes. “This,” he rasped. “It suppresses magic.”

Recognition flared across her face. Her heart stuttered. Understanding bloomed in her eyes and she seized his hand, pressing her lips to his palm. Tears brimmed and spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t know.”

He watched her fingers tremble before she resumed tending his torn skin. Crimson rivulets spiraled down the drain, carried away by the swirling current.

“You don’t owe me this,” he said softly.

She paused, then whispered, “I know.”

They stood inches apart. Heat and moisture hugged their forms. Rook drew another jagged breath. “I’d rather die…” he began, voice thick.

He paused, inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a weary sigh. “…than have you do something you don’t want.”

Those words struck her like thunder. Her hand stilled, hovered before his injury. She slid her other hand into his, warmth meeting steel-cold skin. Inked spirals of pack markings snaked up his arm, dark lines pulsing with his heartbeat, mysteries she’d never truly understood until now.

He stared at her, unwavering. Liora swallowed, resolve hardening behind the tears. “I do want to,” she said softly, but with an unshakable certainty.

Rook’s forehead creased in concern. “Not like this,” he warned.

“You deserve better,” he added, voice falling.

Her chest tightened at the memory of every moment he’d waited on the edges: patient, uncomplaining, the only one who never tried to push or guide her. She pressed her palm to his heart, feeling its fierce thump. “I want you to live. I’m choosing you.”

Silence held them as the water continued its relentless rhythm. Then Liora lifted her chin. “We’re making our own pack.”

Rook’s fingers clenched around hers. His gaze flicked over her, raw desire tempered by awe, before he tilted her head and captured her lips in a vow sealed by steam and warmth.

She let the last scrap of her pool attire slip away, unveiling skin flushed pink in the mist. Droplets tracing the curves of their bodies. Rook’s dark eyes followed every movement, as if he’d dreamed of this moment ever since he first laid eyes on her from that arrival platform. The bond between them, a wild, wounded thing, had gouged a hollow in his soul only she could fill.

Liora pressed against him, her hands guiding him to readiness with gentle confidence. Their skin met under the spray: smooth, slick, trembling. As she straddled him, claiming the place only a mate could occupy, energy crackled through the bond. Every drop of blood washed away; every wound knit together. Warmth blossomed in its wake, life returning to his limbs.

Soon, he lifted her, pressing her against the jagged edge of the tile. With a feral cry, he claimed her fully as he placed his mark on her flesh. The magic between them roared, an electric current that rippled outward, uniting them, forging a new pack in the moonless night. Pain ebbed; a glowing life thrummed in their veins. He felt it. She felt it. They both did.

Afterward, the tiles cool against Liora’s spine. Her breath fluttered; her pulse thundered in her throat. She clung to him, breathless. Rook bent to her, brushing a soft kiss across her temple. She smiled up through weary lashes.

“Can I call you hubby now?” she asked, voice small. He chuckled, strong and certain.

Beyond the translucent curtain, speakers crackled to life:

THIRD BONDING COMPLETE.

***

Kael awoke with a strangled gasp, air ripping into his lungs, pain coiling in his chest like a living thing. His gaze darted around the chamber.

“No, Liora,” he managed, voice hoarse.

00:49:12

Liora entered the living room, hair still wet, clothes pulled on in a hurry. She had felt Kael awake through the bond and had come running. Time was running out.

Sweat glistened on Kael’s brow as he sat propped up on the couch. His gaze darted around the room, then settled on Liora, standing just inside the door.

She crossed the distance in three strides, concern blazing in her eyes. “Kael. You’re awake!”

He curled inward, shaking his head. “I’m not taking what’s left.”

Her chest constricted. “This isn’t charity.”

“For me, it is,” she said softly. The words sliced through him.

He drew himself upright, voice raw. “I asked you, Day One. I told you to choose me.”

“I wasn’t ready,” she whispered.

“That’s the point.” His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on hers. “I was.”

A fragile hush settled. The tick of the clock grew louder between them. “And you chose everyone else.”

Anger and hurt pulsed through the silent bond. Kael’s shoulders tensed. “I’m not doing it like this,” he said.

“Like what?” she prompted.

“Like I’m your last option.” His voice cracked once, startling even him.

“You’ re not.” She took a slow step closer. “You kept pushing. You never gave up on me.”

Her fingertips rose to cup his jaw, warmth on his skin, soft reassurance. “I didn’t choose you first,” she confessed. “But I’m choosing you now.”

His eyes fluttered shut, pain riffling across his expression. “That’s not the same.”

Her voice strengthened. “No. It’s harder.”

Desperate hope bloomed in Kael’s gaze. Liora mirrored him. “I know what this costs,” he murmured.

“And I’m still choosing you,” she said firmly.

He exhaled, release and tremor in his features.

“I want you alive,” she admitted.

She climbed into his lap with measured grace and pressed forward until only the thin fabric of her dress separated them. Her hands glided down his chest, feeling fierce restraint beneath taut muscles. He stiffened, breath hitching as her fingers began to undo his pants.

She brushed her lips against his in a vow. “I want you walking out with me.”

His palm settled on her waist, anchoring himself to reality. Foreheads touched, breath mingling in shared whispers as the bond ignited, hot, pulsing, alight with promise.

His hand found hers, tightening with unspoken relief. The bond pulsed, warmer, entwined. Behind them, Cassian turned away, and Thalen exhaled, granting them this moment.

***

Kael’s breath quivered, anger, hope, and desire all warring within him. He lifted a trembling hand. “Then don’t look away.”

“I won’t.” Liora’s promise was a soft vow on her lips as she looked down at his girth and couldn’t help but gasp.

She slid forward until there was no space left between them, skin to skin, breath to breath. Her hands traveled over his chest, sensing the taut strength beneath his pulse. His breath hitched once, raw desire catching in his throat.

She eased herself down onto him, every motion deliberate. He froze for a heartbeat, suspended between letting go and holding on, before settling his hands on her hips. They melted together, foreheads touching, breath mingling.

The bond ignited, a feral, radiant blaze that wove their souls inextricably. Time stretched, then shattered with a sharp c***k as metal snapped to the floor.

00:00:00

A final c***k echoed. Metal clattered to the floor.

FOURTH BONDING COMPLETE.