I have no idea what’s going on, and I ask again for the date.

They’re too busy arguing about who pushes my buttons next, something I’ve noticed they do more when they’re stressed or frustrated.

“You’ve only been out for an hour. Chill, freak show. It’s the same day,” Anna says from across the room, before she disappears.

One hour?

Same day?

It felt a whole lot longer than that.

Vance jerks upright so suddenly that I narrowly dodge a massive headbutt.

“Did you just see how fast she moved?” Arion asks the room, very likely pointing an accusatory finger at me.

Vance’s breaths come out quick and sharp, as his eyes dart around the room, brow furrowing in confusion for the briefest moment.

“It worked,” I whisper in slight shock now that his alertness registers in my head.

“It worked,” Damien echoes in a hollow tone.

When I glance over, his eyes are studying me; the way he studied me when he thought I was Idun, only a little different.

A hand smooths up my cheek, fingers slipping into my hair and firmly gripping, and then my head is turned and my lips are pressed against Vance’s.

Firm and demanding, he deepens the kiss, and I forget what is even going on, as my body aches with remembered agony from all the robbed orgasms during the dream.

My arms go around his neck, and he flips us so fast it’s almost dizzying when he comes down on top of me, roughly settling between my legs. His hips roll, and the kiss gets more heated, as my brain damn near short circuits.

The side of my underwear suddenly goes slack, and I feel the tiniest kiss of metal. A breath hisses out of me when I realize he’s just sliced my underwear off with a thin knife, and he’s done it quickly, barely letting me feel the process on either side.

I feel his smirk against my lips as he strips the rest of it away, lips greedily taking all he wants from me.

“So, she does this really impossible thing, and you’re just going to fuck her without a single question, Van Helsing?” Arion asks in a dry tone. “Can’t we have just one inquisition?”

Vance kisses me harder, hiking my leg up on his hip, as he reaches between us to shove his underwear down.

I think I whimper when I feel the heat of something hard and blunt grazing my inner thigh in the most teasing way possible.

Definitely back to all those lost sensations, only now, it’s worse.

“The room just dropped five degrees, and that wasn’t me,” Arion notes. “Violet, am I pissing you off? Are you attempting to posture against me?”

“Are you seriously suggesting she’s an alpha like us instead of the Simpletons?” Damien asks, as Vance curses under his breath, breaking the kiss, and denying me what I want the most right now.

He leans over, apparently trying to find something, as Arion answers Damien.

“Perhaps a unique blend. It’s not preposterous. The rules with her are different, therefore we need to stop referring to them and only pay attention to the ones relevant to her—”

Everyone stops talking all at once, which is awesome, but also confusing, so I glance over, just as Vance goes still and stares with me.

He drops something and completely covers me with his body, almost as though he’s shielding me from Edmond’s eyes, which is sooooooo fucking creepy. This is my mother’s family!

Edmond, however, isn’t looking at me. His attention is on Emit, Damien, and Arion, who are all mostly blocking him from my sight.

“You guard her so well, that she may damn well be the destruction of all of us. Anything too good to be true, is often just that. Surely you’ve learned at least that much by now. There’s always a heavy cost and sacrifice. I’ll be around,” he says, turning and walking out. “It fucked the last one up. History won’t repeat itself,” he adds, his voice echoing down the hall.

“We really do need to see your monster, Violet,” Damien says as he turns around, looking too tired to have much emotion about any of this.

Vance leans down abruptly, and this time he flings his hand. Three knives fly through the air and stab the wall directly beside their heads. They all give him a round of blinks.

“It can wait,” he says in a gruff, somewhat shaky tone, as he lifts three more knives, staggering them between his fingers with casual ease. “Close the door on your way out.”

He turns his head so suddenly that a surprised sound escapes me when he reclaims my lips, kissing me so hard that it’s damn near bruising.

“Vance, we genuinely can’t overlook this one. It was too—”

A pained grunt ends whatever Arion was going to say, and Vance breaks the kiss, allowing me a quick opportunity to glance over and see all three of them are standing with a knife jammed in their right thighs.

“I said it can wait. Close the fucking door on your way out,” he grinds out, damn near glaring at them.

Heat bubbles in my chest, and my body gets twice as excited, because Vance’s attention returns to me, heavily resting on my face.

This is new.

This look.

This intensity.

My hands slide up his bare chest, feeling the subtle way his muscles tense under my traveling touch. When his mouth descends on mine this time, my toes curl in preemptive excitement.

“Vance, we—”

There’s a curse muttered, a door slams, and then there are three distinct thuds that prove he’s thrown more knives, only this time, we’ve been left alone. I think.

I don’t really care.

All I do care about is the fact that when he pushes inside me, I feel it in every part of my body, the relief hitting me with powerful, exciting, and consuming sensations. My moan gets swallowed by him, and he shoves me up higher on the couch, kissing me deeper.

His hips roll, and those sensations explode across me, the brink of that elusive orgasm returning so damn quickly that it’s almost painful.

My fingers twist in his hair, and he practically growls against my lips, his rhythm increasing to make all my favorite sensations that much more intense.

The kiss turns almost desperate, until I break the kiss to cry out, the wave of so many denied orgasms crashing to the forefront with this one. His arms circle me, pressing our bodies as close as possible, as his head comes down beside mine.

He muffles the guttural sound he makes against a pillow, his movements slowing, until his body goes slack against mine. I smile to myself as I hug him, holding him to me, listening to the sound of his panted breaths.

“I’m sorry. I have no idea what just happened, but if I didn’t have you right that very second, I may have very well died from the need,” he says on a gruff, shaky breath, still clinging to me. In a reluctant tone, he adds, “I also didn’t mean for it to end so abruptly. I have no idea what’s come over me.”

He sounds so flustered and confused that it’s almost cute. Which isn’t a word I often use to describe the very overbearing hunter. My leg winds around his waist, and I kiss his shoulder.

“Probably has something to do with the build-up we had back when you thought I was a slutty witch. If we ever need to spice things up with roleplay, I now know exactly what role to play to get you excited,” I tell him, smiling against his skin.

He grunts, getting more relaxed on top of me, and lifts his head to stare down at me with clear…bewilderment.