Gypsy Rising
I get comfortable, allowing myself to drift off to sleep, when…suddenly there’s a crash against the door, and I jar awake.
Arion startles right next to me, along with Damien on his other side, and we all look over in disbelief, as the omegas pant for air, while…pushing Emit on a stretcher toward us.
The wolf snarls at all of us, and I almost feel…sorry for the fucking stupid mutt who looks ridiculous.
“You wicked son of a bitch,” he bites out. “Next time, there will be hell to pay for that. I did nothing to deserve—”
“I have a list of infractions that gave me that right,” I argue, even though by now he should know I always have a reason, otherwise, my curse wouldn’t allow such actions.
The omegas heave and strain to push the stretcher right up against the bed, and Violet’s leg extends, moving off me, as she subconsciously reaches for him.
He slides over, running his hand up her leg, and releases a sigh that sounds similar to relief. I suppose it was a dick move.
“I’m selfish,” I remind him. “I hate the fact you’ve mated her and I’ve not even gotten much closer than some sexual tension.”
He kisses her ankle, still glaring at me, but I smile, because Violet murmurs my name in her sleep this time.
Then…she moans Damien’s.
“I will stab you if you don’t let the girl get some rest. If she wakes up and kicks us all out, I’ll stab you multiple times,” I warn the deviant.
Violet immediately stops squirming atop Arion, and the vampire glares over at me.
“This could go another way if she wakes up. Something to keep in mind,” the vampire—
“Definitely wake her up,” Anna chirps from overhead, blinking down at us when we all jerk our attention to her.
She fans herself and releases a dreamy sigh, as she contently lounges on the rafters. “Can I pick who goes first?” she adds.
Damien tosses up a ball of salt that shatters somewhere in the room, and she vanishes from sight.
“We’ll deal with that mystery-slash-problem another day,” he grumbles around a yawn.
“A lot fucking happened in five months, didn’t it?” Emit asks quietly, as Violet continues to sleep peacefully, surrounded by the four of us.
“The question is, how much do we actually fucking know about what’s going on?” Arion asks, his hand smoothing up her back. “And how much is she keeping from us just because she’s mad right now?”
“A problem for another day. Seriously, quit wagging your jaws so I can sleep,” Damien cuts in.
In the next instant, there’s an image of sheep jumping over a fence playing in my head. Each of the sheep are numbered, as one by one they bounce in and out of view.
“Count them until you fuckers fall asleep,” Damien mumbles.
Emit snorts, almost choking back laughter, as I try to figure out what in the hell purpose this serves.
I start feeling stupid, as I silently watch the numbers, counting them with the visual aid. As though counting sheep is going to make me…fall…asleep…
CHAPTER 20
VIOLET
Four boys are in my bed.
Well, technically three boys are in my bed, and one boy is haphazardly sprawled on a stretcher that’s pushed against the bed, and he’s got an arm curled around my leg.
I’ll ask about the stretcher later.
I hate the fact this makes me smile. It should really, really piss me off. They always do this. They have no sense of personal boundaries. Though, I’m surprised Vance is guilty of this boundary crusher as well.
Arion…is naked. Fully naked.
And he’s underneath me.
And he’s apparently happy about being underneath me, if the thing poking me in the stomach is any indication toward his current mood.
Damn vampire.
My body is all sorts of confused, because some really inappropriate thoughts enter my mind.
I’m incensed. Or…at least I should be. Right?
Weak is feeling more like my theme song with each passing—
A hand clamps down on my ass, and the vampire smiles, even as his eyes stay closed.
“Care to use my body for your pleasure this morning, love?” he asks, even though the clock is telling me it’s actually mid-afternoon.
Have I really slept all day?
He gives my ass a squeeze, and suddenly a few images pop into my mind—images not made by the slutty, shameless subconscious I have. Instead, it’s images made by the slutty, shameless sexual deviant I feel kissing my inner wrist.
Even with my eyes wide open, all I can see is Arion under me, and Damien behind me, as the two of them release their monsters in a way that has my toes trying to prematurely curl and my heart racing out of my chest.
Lips capture mine, both in the fantasy and for real, because there’s no denying a true kiss with Arion. It’s too consuming to be faked, and my body heats in response.
I’m not sure what’s real and what’s imaginary, as I shove my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, my hips rocking against him in a way that has him hurrying to shove my shorts down.
A scream has the illusion snapping and shattering, as a cold wash of reality slashes through me with the same jarring sensation.
I pause, forgetting everything else, when I realize Vance’s lips are stilled on my shoulder, his eyes holding mine, even as my shirt is in his hands.