by JL Madore
Kotah ducks his head and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I recited what I remember of the legend of the phoenix. It’s a story the children of my nation hear around the fire at equinox celebrations. You are a living symbol of inspiration. The arrival of the phoenix signals the possibility of uniting StoneHaven with those living here with the humans—a reconnection with our ancestry and inherent powers.”
How’s a girl supposed to respond to that?
“Wanna hear something crazy?”
Kotah cants his head to the side as if considering it.
The gesture is very canine and makes me smile. “When I died, I wasn’t scared. I crashed through the windshield and shattered my insides when I hit the road. I laid in that ditch, knowing I would die, and wasn’t afraid. Could I have known on some level what was coming? Is that possible?”
He shrugs. “I’m sorry. There’s so much we don’t know.”
“And why me?”
He blinks owlishly, studying me from behind his lenses. “Alignment of the stars, a Fate’s guiding hand, a random occurrence. We may never know that either. The point is, that you are here. You are with us, as you are meant to be. You must not run off again. That was very dangerous.”
“Can you blame me? I woke up locked in a mansion with four men telling me we’re some cosmic mating-match.”
Kotah frowns. “We didn’t lock you up. Jaxx ensured your room and balcony doors were free to open. We only wanted to escort you through the early days of transition. If you told us about your friend and the men who hurt you, we might’ve been able to help without the bloodshed and pain. We are your guardians, first and foremost, here to serve you.”
It’s hard to deny the phoenix thing—especially with last night’s trucker bonfire drifting in and out of my memory and the taste of my blood lingering sour on the back of my tongue.
What is so bad about being reborn a magical being?
Jaxx was right about another point, too. If I were dead, none of this would matter. Riley would still be dead, and Sonny and his guys would get away with it. So what if I can’t go back to my life as a human?
Do I even want to?
As crazy as the concept seemed yesterday, I take a page out of Riley’s book and I allow myself to consider the four of them and what they represent. The changes in me aren’t solely sexual. The boundaries of my life are expanding and I am grasping to catch up.
They didn’t drug me—I get that now. And though I’m not sure what happens after I bring down the Sons, I acknowledge things aren’t as absolute as I thought.
Kotah watches me, patient and reflective. I’m struck again by his youthful energy. “How old are you?”
He purses his lips and I feel his guard go up. “I’ll be twenty-one on my next birthday.”
Twenty. Gawd. He’s not even old enough to drink in a bar and he’s been chosen as one of the Guardians of the Phoenix. I give him full marks for maturity. He’s handling things with far more grace than I. “Are you angry… having your world flipped upside down and being locked into this craziness as one of my men?”
His guarded expression drains away. “No. I am honored and…” a hint of a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth as he smiles at our joined fingers, “honestly, I worry the Powers will realize they’ve chosen the wrong male, and that at any moment they could take it all away. I can’t imagine finding anyone as strong and beautiful as you. I don’t understand how I deserve a place at your side.”
My cheeks flush and I try to clear my head and find my tongue. “That’s sweet.”
“It’s true. I will do anything for you, Calli, be anything you need: a protector, a friend, a guide into our world. You only need to ask. Trust is earned—I understand that—I only want the chance to earn yours.”
My heart stumbles and a weird sense of belonging threatens to take me over. The truth of his conviction rings in his words and a shiver of pleasure races down my spine. But I know the truth about belonging. When it’s taken away, your emotions are stripped bare and you’re left all alone.
Kotah’s likely too young to be jaded by the harshness of reality. He isn’t naïve exactly, but he also isn’t a typical twenty-year-old. Judging by his response to me asking his age, I’d bet he tires of being sized up by his outer package.
“May I ask you something odd—and feel free to say no.”
He flashes me a sheepish grin. “What is it?”
Now I feel silly. My life is spiraling out of control and my libido keeps grabbing the reins. “I’m dying to touch your hair. Would you mind?”
Kotah laughs and shifts sideways on the seat. His movements stretch his side, his shirt rucking up to expose perfectly sculpted abs and muscled hips. “Of course, you can.”
Even with him relaxed, I sense the predator within him. He isn’t alpha like the jaguar and the hawk, or a beta like the bear, but he still defended me with his life last night.
He unties the leather string at the tail of his braid and runs his fingers through the plaits to set the lengths free. Then, he stretches his arm across the back of the seat of the truck and leans closer. His hair hangs like a silky, chestnut drape, the ends reaching down to the seat.
His handsome face, so open and guileless unlocks something inside me. I found him disarming yesterday.
Today, it’s more.
“I’m sorry you suffer, Calli,” he whispers. “If it were within my powers, I would bear the turmoil for you and ease your transition.” He brushes the back of my hand and another rush of emotional calm takes me over.
Oh… he’s doing that.
Warning flares within me at the thought of my emotions being manipulated—but no. Connected as we are, I sense his intentions. He is only caring for my wellbeing.
I swallow and a deep longing triggers inside me.
My dominant instinct is to claim what’s mine. I imagine crawling over his hips and straddling him. He’d let me. He possesses completely different energy than the others—shyness and excitement versus male dominance and swagger.
Kotah is sweetness and support swirling around in an intelligent, principled, clean-cut, genuine guy.
“How can I sense your aggression level in the hierarchy of things? You aren’t standoffish like the others. You don’t feel the need to push in and take over.”
“I’m an omega,” he says. “In the hierarchy of wildling personalities, there are alphas, betas, submissives, and, on rare occasions, omegas.”
“How rare?” I ask, seeing the most adorable blush pinking up his cheeks.
“About one in eight-hundred and forty-three.”
“About.” I laugh.
Kotah blinks at me like he doesn’t understand why I find his answer funny. “You’re right, though,” he says. “I don’t need to dominate you. My sole desire is to help you adjust and ensure your well-being.”
Omega. I make a mental note to learn more about that later. If he and I are both so rare, how did we end up together in this? Is that part of the universe’s master plan or a happy fluke? Another mystery about my wolf.
Kotah cants his head to the side again, dangling his hair toward me. He reminds me so much of a curious puppy that I almost giggle. Instead, I accept what he offers.
Unlike when I chickened out yesterday with Jaxx, I brush gentle fingers across the prominent bone structure of Kotah’s cheek. The sensation of physical contact is both exciting and grounding. It’s as if I sense our energy mingling. The connection tingles and travels from the pads of my fingers, up to my wrist, into my body, and straight to my racing heart.
Kotah sits very still, and I continue my exploration into the silky length of his hair. It’s as soft as I imagined. I bring my other hand up and rake my fingers past both his temples and back. My eyes roll back as my instincts burst to life. I know—without doubt—my wolf will never hurt me.
“Why are things so much clearer today?”
Kotah swallows and draws a deep breath. “You completed your first shift. Wi
ldling power and intuition grows stronger with each connection we make with our animal selves. Our senses extend beyond what humans comprehend: instincts, pheromones, body language, scents in the air. It’s a chaotic muddle of stimuli at first, but in time, your instincts and abilities will be as strong in your human form as they are when you’re lighting up.”
Lighting up. Flaming out. My life is sure different.
Heat ignites in my chest as I focus on the memory of the trucker and what happened at the side of the road. Without meaning to, I reconnect to the powerful fury of my phoenix taking its revenge on Plaid Nightmare.
“I killed that trucker.”
“From what we saw, he deserved it.”
I won’t argue. My reaction isn’t remorse or guilt, it’s about the lack of it. What I feel is pure, primal satisfaction. “What kind of animal does it make me that I’m glad?”
Kotah grins. “The kind that survives. You’re no longer solely human, Calli. You are a wildling and with that comes the duality of having a creature of instinct inside you. Everything about your human self will be heightened. It’s a very exciting time for you.”
A twinge of longing shoots through me. Brant, Nakotah, and Hawk saw what I did, my rage, my violent disregard for that trucker’s life. They must also know what I did to—
“Jaxx. How is he?”
Kotah’s smile falters and my heart sinks. “Not well, I’m afraid. Jaxx can’t hold either form or heal as he should. Brant’s doctor friend is tending to him, but there is severe damage. We don’t know how long he’ll be able to continue.”
Oh, gawd. I did that.
I need to go to him. I close my eyes and focus on the pull of longing tugging at my soul. I need to comfort him. To make it right.
I blink as Kotah squeezes my hand and pulls it off the handle of the door. His easy gaze is gone, replaced by puzzlement. “Are you all right, Calli?”
“Yeah, sorry. I, uh… I was thinking about how badly I need to go to Jaxx.”
Kotah kisses the knuckles of my hand and winks. “If you’ve changed your mind and wish to go now—”
“No. I need to finish Sonny and help those girls. I owe that to Riley.”
“In either case, there’s no need to vault from a moving vehicle. You’ve had enough roadside trauma for one week.”
Was I really about to—yeah, I think I was.
I swallow, shaken by how overpowering these instincts are growing. Kotah is still leaning close, looking worried.
He’s so freaking adorable.
Carpe the diem, girlfriend. Riley says in my head.
There’s no stopping the impulse. I close the distance and seal our first kiss. I mean it to be a fast and flirty brush of mouths, to thank him for his kindness and support. Except, the moment our lips touch my animal side explodes. In a thundering rush of ache, I revisit my impulse of five minutes ago and straddle him on the back seat.
Heat hits from everywhere at once, inside and out.
The leather of the seat creaks as Kotah leans back and strong hands press against the blanket on my back. Annoyed with the barrier between his touch and my body, I reach around and drop the blanket to the side.
The breeze coming in from the window caresses my heated skin and I remember that I’m naked. I freeze.
“What is it?” Kotah says, breathless.
Embarrassment burns my cheeks as I look down at how I’m straddled, naked over a young guy I barely know. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mount you like a horny teenager.”
Kotah chuckles and his tension eases. “Don’t apologize on my account. Wildlings don’t have the same hang-ups as humans. Sex is embraced and our sense of modesty is lost during puberty while we learn to control our shifts. I was naked most of the time between the ages of ten and fourteen. It’s a reality of our world.”
The picture in my mind makes me giggle. I imagine Kotah and his peers flashing from wolf to child at inopportune moments and ending up naked at school and during holiday celebrations. “Hopefully you grew up somewhere warm.”
Kotah shakes his head. “I’m a northern boy. Lots of snow and frost to nip at my male parts during the winter.”
I glance down at his male parts. There’s a beautiful mound pressing against the front of his jeans and I wish I had the magical ability to flash away clothes as they do.
“What are you thinking?” Kotah asks, his voice unsteady. He swallows hard and I watch as his throat bobs behind the wide leather choker he wears. “Whatever it is, my answer is yes. Anything you want.”
Gawd, this one melts me. I lower my lips and resume our kiss. It’s not as frantic as a moment ago, but it soon builds in momentum. He’s addictive.
Kotah grips my hips, urging me forward and gawd it feels so good to have his hands on my skin. I push my breasts against his chest and the fabric of his shirt toys with my nipples. The friction of peaked tips against the cotton is powerful, energizing, so damned arousing.
“Fuck me,” Brant says from the front seat. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
A week ago, I would’ve been horrified at such a brazen display, but right now, all I want is to open the fly of Kotah’s jeans and lap dance him until we both scream out.
I know he’s young and inexperienced, but damn, this boy can kiss. His tongue meets mine, stroke for stroke as he grips my hair and splays a firm hand against my spine. I groan as he shifts me over the swell in his jeans. His erection juts hard against the denim. I swear he’s about to split the seams.
His hunger drives my need even higher.
Gawd. How can this much desire not consume me?
My hips circle. My clit finds the ridge of his cock and then an auspiciously placed seam. So good. I’m lost in the wild of whatever spell I’m under and embrace the pleasure.
There is no anger or loss here with him. There is no destiny calling. There’s nothing but Kotah and me.
His cock.
My pussy.
His hands.
My nipples.
Kotah sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. He growls, and his chest vibrates between us. He nips the tender flesh of my mouth, harder than a love bite, but not enough to draw blood. It’s a sultry pleasure with just a hint of pain.
Anticipation builds in a hot pang between my legs. I had no idea kissing could feel like this. He’s fire. And I long to be burned. Power surges through my body—a power I’ve never felt before.
I grip the back of the seat, flip my head back, and grind my clit over the ridge of Nakotah’s cock, gasping. My need tightens viciously, then releases in a fiery burst of pleasure.
My orgasm pours through me in a scorching wave. I cry out, lost to the primal connection between us. I writhe, riding out a shattering release. It momentarily obliterates my defenses. I want this. I need it. I need so much more of this.
I catch my breath and claim his mouth once more. I can’t get enough of his kiss and his outdoorsy scent of earth and wilderness. I grip the back of the seat as sensation ebbs through me in powerful waves. I’m panting, my insides throbbing. I go for his fly. “I want you out of these jeans and inside me, now.”
“Hey, beautiful,” Brant says softly behind me. “I hate to interrupt the show, but the truck seat is on fire.
“What? Oh, shit.” I let go of the leather seat behind Kotah’s head and twist to grab the fire blanket. ‘On fire’ is a bit of an overstatement but smoldering and melting under my heated touch is just as embarrassing. “Damn it.”
Kotah takes over with smothering the fledgling fire and I sink onto the seat.
Brant offers an apologetic smile. “Yeah, even with the fire taken care of, Hawk is back. Devouring the kid will have to wait if you want the drow vendetta as your priority. I’m so fucking sorry, you two.”
I whimper at the thought of not having my wolf’s cock inside me. Wait. Hawk’s back? I rein in my wanton and lift my head to look out the back window. We’re parked off in the trees at a rest stop and Hawk is leaning against a light standard
a couple of empty spots away.
“When did we get here?”
The deep rumble of Brant’s laughter brings me back to my senses. “Not sure. I woke up about fifteen minutes ago and he was already gone.”
What? Here I am, totally macking on my wolf, right in front of two other guys, and I’m so lost in lust I missed Hawk parking the truck and heading out to gather intel?
Well, yeah. I also missed setting the truck on fire.
I lean back and press my fingers to my lips, trying to corral the carnal need that possesses me. I eye the damp, creamed mess in Kotah’s lap and realize that is the result of me grinding on him. “I, uh… sorry about that.”
Brant waves away my embarrassment. “Don’t apologize. It’s going to get away on us from time to time and I certainly didn’t mind. It doesn’t look like Kotah is suffering terribly much either, eh kid?”
Kotah rubs strong hands down both my arms and smiles. Thankfully, he’s as shaken and breathless as me. “No suffering here. That was incredible.”
I swallow. “What I meant to give you was a simple, thank you kiss, for your kindness and support.” This time I kiss him on the cheek and keep my hands behind my back. The position makes my chest stick out and his gaze drops to the peaked tips of my nipples.
“You’re welcome,” Kotah says, his voice strained. “If you don’t mind Brant keeping you company for a moment, I need to duck inside the rest station for a moment.”
Kotah opens the truck door and bails out.
His hasty departure spikes a wave of concern. I grab the fire blanket, pull it around my shoulders, and step out into the late morning air.
Padding barefoot with Brant over to where Hawk is drawing on a cigarette, I watch Kotah disappear into the men’s side of the rest station. “Did I upset him? Should I go check on him?”
Brant chuckles and Hawk’s stoic scowl breaks for the first time. It’s weird to see the unfamiliar curve of a smile on his lips.
“What?” I say, my frustration bouncing between the two of them. “What am I missing?”
