“I need a damn shower,” Titus growled as he climbed the stairs, and then threw over his shoulder. “Your water better be hot, woman.”

I gripped the bannister and heaved myself up one stair at a time.

“I need food,” Rival countered. “I dunno about you, but I feel like hell. I could sleep for a damn week.”

“Hearing you there, brother,” Titus answered.

I was quiet as they bantered. My thoughts were still trapped in the back of that patrol car with Redemption. They painted him as the one responsible for these drugs.

Some part of me wanted to give in to that notion. To nod and cluck my tongue like all the others who stood around and watched him be tackled to the ground. But there was a bigger part of me who was angry…who ranted and raged.

I once knew Redemption…and I still know him. He’s not changed. He was still the self-centered, weak-ass, piece of shit. But he wasn’t a drug dealer. He wasn’t a monster behind the mask.

We loved each other once. We were consumed with each other once. We had it all, until one day he woke up and realized I wasn’t what he wanted anymore. That money, fast cars, and designer suits were more important.

It stung…hell, it still stings. But I wouldn’t bail on him because I was hurting. I wouldn’t throw someone under the damn bus because revenge was easier.

“I didn’t get my omelet,” Rival grumbled and hit the top of the stairs.

Love was hard—I looked at Titus’s blood-splattered shirt as he waited at the top of the stairs—love was a blood-splattered shirt and a haunted gaze.

Love was everything you didn’t expect.

Titus reached out a hand, and mine rose in response. Fingers entwined, palms clasped. Power raced with the connection. Whatever this darkness was inside me, it recognized him, branding him as mine.

Rival stood one step lower and reached out. I met his hand with mine, holding onto both of them as that energy swirled and sparked.

My power knew them…my power loved them.

“I have to go to the station. I have to see Redemption,” I whispered and lifted my head. “I can’t leave him there, not alone.”

I waited for the rage, for the flare of denial and the heated words. But there was nothing but a nod of the head.

“We know,” Titus answered for both of them, and Rival gave a nod.

I took a breath. Something had happened between them, a sense of camaraderie had settled…one answer for the other. “You know?”

Rival’s lips curled in that sleepy, seductive smile. “Yeah, we know, and we’re all good with it. As long as we’re involved. Titus can get us inside. You can see this Redemption guy. Get what you need and then we’re dust.”

It was that simple…it was that simple? Had I missed an entire conversation in the car? Titus dropped my hand and stepped toward the door. I speared my fingers into my pocket and reached for my keys.

“You can see this guy, ask him all the questions you need. After sleep, after food. After allowing us to take care of you. You come first, not this guy…not even us.”

Rival eased the key from my fingers and turned toward the door as he chimed in. “And before you get all huffy, we’re doing this because we need you stable. We can’t risk you high strung on lack of sleep or food. We need you grounded…feel me?”

It was a ploy. A damned sneaky ploy. They were using this against me, turning me into someone they can...they can what? Love…take care of?

The lock clicked open and I followed Rival inside. One headed to the kitchen, the other to the bedroom.

“I’m gonna need to get some things to leave here, clothes, toiletries, the essentials. Is it okay if I have a drawer in your dresser?” Titus called.

“Sure,” I answered, standing inside this foreign apartment.

It was mine…but not mine. It was different, new…made new by their energy.

“I’ll need one as well,” Rival called out as he opened and closed cupboards. “And we need more food. A lot more.”

The clang of a fry pan followed, and it seemed like only moments later the most delicious smell caught a breeze.

“Right,” Titus muttered and stepped from the bedroom, heading toward me. “Everything’s ready.”

And still I stood there like a damn statute, watching the energy in my apartment change before my eyes. “Ready? Ready for what?”

“For your shower.”

“And your food,” Rival added.

And as I stood there staring at these two men trying their hardest, I realized this wasn’t about me.

Sparks flared and dimmed in Titus’ blue eyes. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other, like a child…waiting…hoping.

This was for him—movement came from the kitchen as Rival stepped close—and him.

He wiped his hand and flung a dish towel over one shoulder. He was a beast…a merciless shadows beast. I’d seen him savage a wolf like it was nothing barely an hour before.

We all killed. We all hurt.

We were a family of monsters.

But we were a family.

“A shower sounds perfect,” I murmured, watching Titus’s chest deflate from a pent-up breath. “And omelet is one of my favorite dishes, ever. I’ve never been able to get the flip just right.”

“It’s all about the timing,” he answered, moving up behind me.

His hands wound around my waist, and I dropped my head to the side. Lips met the juncture of my neck, so soft, so tender. Hot breath drifted along my skin. “All about the timing.”

“So, we’re agreed; shower, food, then sleep, everything else comes after,” Titus muttered, his gaze drifting from Rival’s lips at my neck to my gaze. “Or during.”

Rival raised his head and me gave a gentle push toward Titus as he reached for my hand. It was so easy, so simple…we melted into each other with subtle cues and easy confidence.

There was no conflict, no jealously, only hands joining…and the smell of food wafting from my lonely kitchen.

I followed Titus into the bedroom, catching sight of a pair of pajamas on the bed. I expected the lacy, barely-there negligee that waited in my drawer, but that wasn’t what he wanted…and it wasn’t what he found. An old, over-sized black cotton t-shirt waited. It was big and soft, skimming mid-thigh, and, as I searched the lacy black panties, I knew there was nothing else.

He wanted me comfortable, but he wasn’t above a man’s need for bare skin. He led me into the bathroom and then turned, and, for a second, I caught my reflection in the mirror.

No wonder he fussed. Haunted eyes stared back at me. Shadows and pale skin filled my gaze, and blood…the drying splatter covered my cheek, and over my shirt. I flinched with the sight and looked down. How had I not noticed that? How had I not known I wore another’s blood?

His fingers were slow and tender, crooking a finger under my chin to draw my focus toward him. No words were needed as he dropped his hands to my shirt.

Buttons released under skillful fingers, still, his gaze never moved from my eyes. This wasn’t about sex…not yet. This was about nurture, about comfort…about being alive, being safe—about us.

This was the beginning of our relationship, where we gave and took, where we found balance. He’d never wavered, not when he’d seen the worst I could become, and this was the trade-off, this was what he needed.

I opened my arms, letting him tug the shirt from my body. He met my gaze and reached for the button on my jeans. Utensils clattered in the kitchen, and, in their own way, they were both finding boundaries and making it work.

The button on my jeans released, zipper opening as Titus slowly knelt.

I reached for his shoulders, finding balance as he lifted one foot and eased my boot free, followed with the other. Socks came next, leaving bare feet against the cool tiled floor. Denim slipped, falling to a heap at my feet. I stepped free as he hooked his fingers into the edges of my panties and tugged.

The thin material slipped, falling away before he rose. Warmth brushed my chest as he leaned in close, reaching around to unhook the clasp of my bra.

His clothes were next, although not as slow, not as seductive. He yanked the open collar and jerked, buttons popped under the strain.

I’d dreamed of him, desired him…thought about him every time he walked into every crime scene and for a long time after.

And, as he dropped the shirt to the floor and reached for his belt, I realized that no matter how good the fantasies had been…this was so much better.

He was strong, powerful muscles rippled as he moved. The clatter of metal met tile as his black trousers fell. Boxers were next, leaving him naked in front of me.

He was utterly perfect; his thick, soft length lay against strong thighs. He moved slowly, reaching into the shower stall to twist the taps.

The hiss of the shower filling the space, he skimmed his hand through the spray, adjusting the temperature until he was satisfied, and then leaned backwards and waited.

I stepped in, moving under the water. Warmth swept over me. I closed my eyes, listened to the creak of the door, and then shuddered.

An ache swept through my chest. It came from nowhere, tightening like a fist around my heart, until a sob tore free. And under the warm spray everything crashed down on me.

Silver eyes glinted.

Blood filled my nose.

Power…power and death moved in.

And that voice. That voice inside my head whispering, urging.

“It’s okay,” Titus whispered and wrapped his arms around me. “Let it out, let it go. You’re safe here, safe with us.”

Tears fell, blurring him. I leaned my head under the spray and washed the stuck strands of my hair from my face. He reached for the soap, lathering his hands before he rubbed my arm.

He worked methodical, up one side only to come down along the other, and, under the feel of his hands and the constant motion, I felt myself slowly relax.

His fingers skimmed my breast, and then fell to my stomach before he leaned in. His kiss was urgent, pressing my spine into the cold tiles. Muscles tightened, pulling me harder against him.

His body came alive, hardening as I moved against him. The soap was forgotten…as was that warehouse. Cutlery clattered out in the kitchen as Titus’ kiss deepened.

My nipples hardened, heat raced. Something deeper than the warmth of the spray. Still, his hands never strayed, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips before he pulled away. “Sounds like breakfast is ready,” he murmured and then dropped his gaze to my hardened nipples. “And you’re nice and clean.”

I would’ve stayed there until the hot water ran dry, but he relaxed his hold and stepped away.

Hunger darkened those icy blue eyes. His chest quivered under the spray, drawing my gaze. His cock stood straight and thick. I reached out, splaying my hand along the smooth rise over his heart as he murmured, “He’s waiting for you. I’ll be there in a second. It’s better we wait.”

But the words trembled, as though he wasn’t totally convinced, until there was the ghost of a smile. “Yeah, you go.”

He shoved the shower door wide and reached for my arm. I left him there, left him, when all I wanted was that heat, that feeling of safety, and that desire once more.

I reached for the towel rack and glanced at two more towels folded on the end of the sink. Titus had worked fast, clothes, towels. In the space of a heartbeat this lonely old apartment was filled. I rubbed the cotton along my hair and then over my body.

I didn’t flinch this time as I found my reflection. My fingers fumbled for the comb. I dragged the wide teeth through my short red hair and looked into my eyes.

I was a stranger in this familiar body. I lifted my hand to stare at the sigil on my palm—a stranger that was dangerous to all those around her.

“Food is ready,” Rival murmured from the doorway.

I turned my head as he moved into the bathroom, taking the towel from my hand and gently wiped my back. He glanced up once to find my stare in the mirror. “We take each day at a time, okay? No thinking about the past, or the future. We just focus on right now.”

I found Rival in the mirror as he voiced the words in my head. “Your power is changing, growing, but whatever happens,” he reached for my hand, capturing my fingers to meet my palm with his lips, “we deal with it together.”

The shower ended, and the stall opened. “That smells fucking awesome,” Titus growled and reached for the towel. “And I’m starving.”

“Thank the Goddess for that,” Rival growled. “’Cause there’s plenty of it.”

And just like that the clouds parted. Rival reached over, slipped the damp towel over the rack, and made for the bedroom.

In their own way, they were processing the day…processing me as well. We were setting the tone of this relationship—allowing them the small things like feeding, comforting…and they processed what happened in a way I couldn’t.

My oversized t-shirt waited in his hands. I followed, lifted my arms and slipped my hands through the opening. Soft cotton rained down, cascading over my head to fall around my shoulders.

My panties were next. The thin lace so small in his palm as Rival dropped to one knee in front of me, waiting as I lifted one foot and then the other.

Lace skimmed my legs, and then my thighs, taking his time over my thighs to settle around my hips. Titus toweled his hair as Rival rose and held out his hand.

I let him lead me, stepping into a strange setting. My lonely, unused coffee table had turned into a setting for three, with heaping plates of steaming omelets and glasses filled with cold juice.

He motioned to the middle and reached for the middle plate. “I wasn’t sure if you liked it with cheese, or without, so I made both.”

A grin took hold as I sat. “You made both?”

He gave a shrug and mumbled, “Figured you’d be hungry.”

I wasn’t…well, I hadn’t been, until I saw the food, now my stomach tightened, and let out a howl.

“God that smells good,” Titus growled and grabbed a plate, easing onto one side of the sofa while Rival took the other.

Butter glistened, running along the fluffy mound as I cut, then stabbed. The first mouthful was heaven. I chewed and swallowed, sweeping away the last bitter remnants of the warehouse.

I stabbed and chewed, finishing mouthful after mouthful, and washed it down with the cold juice. The ting of forks on ceramic filled the space. I ate until my belly bowed, and slowed. There was still more left on my plate. A lot more. “I can’t,” I eased against the sofa. “I can’t eat anymore.”

“You did damn well,” Rival glanced at my plate.

“So good,” my stomach gave a quiver and relaxed. “So…so good.”

“I’m done, my man. That was incredible,” Titus shook his head and collapsed backwards, holding an empty plate.

“Then my garbage guts will happily devour the rest.” Rival leaned forward, gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, and grabbed the plate from my hand.

And it hit me. He needed more. More food, more rest…the shift took a lot out of him, and all shifters consumed more food than the rest of us—let alone hellhounds.

His heat burned everything. One week of living like this with no food, and he’d be emaciated. I had to change for this to work…and by change I meant more money.

Contentment bled away inside me, leaving me cold. I wanted to break The Circle’s wheel, but it was more than that. I wanted it fair, across the board…there were more hunters out there—hunters like me, wondering how to survive.

I’d find a way, with Rival and Titus, I’d find a way. I lifted my gaze to the open window and looked to the bruised, rolling clouds.

“We can clean up later,” Titus murmured.

His eyes closed as Rival rose from the sofa. “Agreed. I cooked, you can clean.”

“Sounds fair,” Titus mumbled, shoving forward and up from the sofa.

Plates clattered on top of one another as Rival followed. I rose with them and together we made for the bedroom.

Covers were shifted, bedsprings creaked.

Titus climbed in, scooting over to the far side before I followed. The mattress dipped and groaned beneath me. Warmth pressed in on both sides.

Fingers brushed my back.

The front of my shirt was tugged.

Push.

Pull.

Moving, jostling. The slip of cotton, and soft lips against my back. Excitement jumbled the bundle of nerves in my belly. I lifted my arms as the shirt gathered under my arms and then slipped free.

Titus rose up, taking my lips. Soft kisses ran down my arm as Rival reached around to cup my breast. Panic flaring, I traced their hands, tracked their lips—was fraught with the touch.

My heart sped, breaths raced. I tried to stay in the moment. They took no more, just this…just something slower…something perfect. My nipples hardened under a soft pinch, drawing me into the touch…into the feel.

The feel of Titus’s mouth.

The feel of Rival’s hands.

Hot breath raced along my spine, soft lips followed sending a shudder…and everything just melted. I opened my mouth to Titus, there was a gentle probe of his tongue as Rival fingers danced a line down my stomach to the elastic of my panties.

One pushed, one pulled. Titus broke the kiss. Pillows billowed around my head. Blue eyes blended into orange flames. I touched them, skimming chest, thighs. Desire surged. I wanted them…wanted their touch, their eyes.

I wanted their everything.

There was no hiding here. No running away. No snarky answers. This was messy and vulnerable…the most vulnerable I’d been in a long time.

Rival’s thumb hooked into one side of my panties, and Titus’s in the other. I clenched my ass, driving my hips into the air. Lace slipped, falling away to gather at my knees.

And they were gone as I was lifted. Knees spread, splaying me wide as Rival moved with me, straddling Titus’s thighs.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder. His hands cupped my breasts, his mouth found mine. Titus’s fingers danced along the inside of my thigh and then brushed against my entrance.

The lightest touch along my slit. A current surged as his finger found the tiny nub. Rival’s kiss deepened, tongue finding mine as Titus’ fingers circled, and then slowly moved down.

Fingers danced, fluttering wildly as I reached above my head to trap Rival’s kiss. Deep breaths pushed my breasts harder against his hands.

My hips twitched as fingers moved to my entrance. Heat lashed, burning, teasing…wanting. I moved against Titus, pressing his fingers.

One slow grind and his fingers slipped inside. I shuddered with the feel, needing more, widening my thighs to press against the outline of his cock.

A moan tore free and was swallowed by Rival’s ravenous mouth. Titus’ hand moved between us, pushing, shoving. I tightened my hold, drawing Rival’s mouth harder against mine and dropped my other hand.

Fingers splayed, finding the smooth skin of Titus’ shaft. I clenched my ass, desperate now, and guided him to my core.

Fingers gripped my thighs as I rose. Slick skin met heat. I wanted the slow slide…needed that first feeling as he pressed into my opening. One slow exhale and I eased lower.

A hard probe of Rival’s tongue drove me down harder. My thoughts stilled, frozen as Titus pushed deeper.

A low moan echoed from the bed as I rose once more, circling my hips. The rhythm caught, seizing me in a frenzy of need. The current drew me deeper, harder, grinding my hips against his, and, as Rival broke the kiss, heat flared through my core.

Flames danced, the tips running blood red through the hungry tongues of orange. I was trapped in those fires, grinding harder, and then rose with the first wave of ecstasy.

I was washed out, broken, shattered…and then crashed back down. Titus gave a savage growl, his fingers dug harder into my thighs, holding me down as he pumped.

And in that moment, the dark energy raced through my bones. You lied, that voice whispered. You barely knew, did you? Barely knew the power was in your hands…you could have it all…every mortal…every immortal.

Titus gave one hard grunt and then stilled. Rival’s fingers moved down my spine and then back to my shoulder. One gentle push and I fell forward.

Titus slipped free, leaving me cold…for a second, until Rival moved against me. His cock slid along my crease as Titus lifted his head from the bed.

His hungry tongue licked the tight peak of my nipple as Rival eased away for a second…and then plunged, driving his hips hard against the curve of my ass.

My arms shuddered with the force, but his slide outward had me pushing back. I needed him…needed them both. But he was there, driving his shaft deep once more. The hard slap of flesh on flesh rang out. Titus’ mouth closed over my nipple, grazing soft flesh with his teeth.

You want them? That voice asked.

“Yes,” the savage sound burned as it ripped free. “Yes, I want them.”

Then they’re yours.

Rival pumped harder, giving into the need for release. The climax built, burning like fire along my skin. Something changed…something mingled with the frenzy as Titus gripped my shoulders and pulled me close.

Pain flared as Rival gripped my hips and plunged harder. “Fuck me,” he hissed. “Lorn…Lorn!”

And out of my climax came the rush of power. Shouts of pleasure and agony filled my head. I screamed and shuddered as the dark need raced.

Flesh and bone. Nails and claws. Sinew and death.

They were mine…I dropped my head back and screamed.

The piercing sound cleaved the air, and then fell silent.

Heavy breaths filled my ears…mine, and theirs.

Rival collapsed back against the mattress. My arms gave a tremble, and then buckled.

Titus tried to catch me, but he was shuddering, eyes wide… mouth slack…he was stunned. The muscles of his jaw bulged, lips clamped together turning white under the strain.

“Fuck’s sake, that stung like a bitch!” Rival growled and shoved up from the mattress.

He looked down to his chest…and the red burn over his heart. He glanced to Titus, and I followed his stare. Red flared against his pale skin on the swell of muscle.

Titus’ brow narrowed as he looked down. “Jesus Christ.” He lifted a hand, pressing fingers to the burn. The outline of the flame was punctured with four dots that curved out and around the swell. “What the hell is it?”

“A mark of protection, power…both,” Rival murmured and lifted his hand. “And belonging. Nothing like a little pain with pleasure.”

“That was more than a little pain,” Titus muttered, and winced as he pressed too hard.

The mark flared, and then died away, turning the inflamed skin pale once more. Pain slipped from Titus’s eyes. He inhaled hard and then relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and reached for them. “I didn’t know.”

“If it is what I think it is, then you might’ve just saved our damn lives. So don’t be sorry.”

Titus lifted his gaze, finding Rival’s eyes. “Explain.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it, right? The power, the hunger…that animal inside.”

Titus was silent for a second and then he nodded.

“That was her power, and this,” Rival skimmed his thumb over the scar on his chest, “was her mark, like her imprinting. It’s everyone else that needs to be worried.”

“So just like that…you mark them…just…like…that?”

I flinched at the savage words and lifted my head. Light flared, burning so bright it swallowed the room, and then died away.

White feathers fluttered as Gabriel strode through the damn wall and stood at the end of the bed. Gone was the archangel that watched over me.

Gone was the man who gave me comfort and friendship when I needed it the most. Dark eyes skimmed Titus, and then stilled at Rival. “A human is one thing, but a hellhound, Lorn, really? You couldn’t have fucked anything else?”

His top lip curled. There was cruelty in his gaze, and pain. He wanted to hurt—desperation twisted his angelic features.

“A jealous archangel, now I’ve seen it all,” Rival snarled and rose from the bed.

I lunged for my shirt and shoved my hands through the openings. “What the hell, Gabriel!”

But he never moved, never broke his gaze from the men in my bed.

He’d never acted like this…not with Redemption. Not with anyone.

And in a rush of wings and feathers, he turned from the sight.

I shoved from the bed, tugging the oversized shirt down, and stumbled. “Gabriel…for fuck’s sake, just wait!

He turned at an angle and shoved along the hallway to the living room. Still, his wings buckled under the strain, bending backwards until I was sure they’d snap. His words were designed to draw blood as he snarled. “Don’t bother.”

“Hey…hey!” I pushed into the soft, downy plumage and grabbed his arm.

Powerful muscles flexed as he yanked from my hold.

Pain ravaged my chest. “Don’t do this…Gabriel, don’t.”

He spun, carving wings through the open space, and roared. “Don’t what? Don’t leave…don’t look at you with them! You don’t know…you don’t know a goddamn thing!”

I stilled…stunned.

His strong jaw bulged under the strain. His top lip quivered, fist clenched by his side. I’d never seen him like this—so tortured. But he’d never hurt me. I had to believe that…he’d never hurt me.

I took a slow step forward, dwarfed by the man and the wings. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Those perfect lips quivered as he broke my gaze. “It was never supposed to be this hard. Never supposed to be cruel.”

I tried to understand, tried to piece this all together. Nothing made sense. Not his anger, not his words. “What was? Talk to me…what was?”

He swung that piercing gaze to mine and answered. “Loving you.”