I wake up to *pain*.
Not the *good* kind.
The *bad* kind.
The *f*****g* kind.
My body is *sore*—every *inch* of me *aching* from last night. My lips are *swollen* from their *kisses*. My throat is *bruised* from their *grips*. My *p***y* is *throbbing* from their *claims*.
And my *heart*—
*Fuck.*
My *heart* is *full*.
*f*****g* full.
I *stretch*, my body *trembling*, my voice a *groan*. The *sheets* are *tangled* around me, the *scent* of *them*—cedar, smoke, leather, rain, *lust*—*clinging* to my skin.
*Fuck.*
I *hate* this.
I *love* this.
I’m *theirs*.
---
The door *creaks* open.
Knox *steps* in, his dark eyes *black* with hunger, his voice a growl. *"Happy *birthday*, omega."*
I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"f**k off, Knox."*
His smirk is *dark*, his voice a dark p
