by EE Silver
“Yes,” Hunter hissed as he settled firmly against Trey’s lap, Trey buried to the hilt inside of him where he belonged. No one had ever felt this good inside of him, and Hunter lost track of all his ideas of making it last the instant he moved forward and the head of Trey’s cock dragged over his prostate.
Before he knew what he was doing, Hunter was riding Trey with a need bordering on desperate. He needed more, needed to feel Trey coming inside him, needed to lose his mind just a little more if it meant he could get just a little more of that dizzying pleasure.
“Hunter,” Trey growled. “Fuck, Hunter, I’m so close. I want to feel you coming around me as I claim you, baby. Come for me, please.”
“Bite me,” Hunter moaned as he fell forward, bracing himself against the wall on with shaking arms on either side of Trey’s head. “Claim me. Knot me. Make me yours.”
Trey’s golden eyes flashed, and he grabbed Hunter from behind by the back of the neck and one shoulder, jerking him into position, and struck just as his knot popped, stretching Hunter impossibly wider. His teeth pierced Hunter’s skin, and the mating bond started to form almost instantly.
Hunter’s own orgasm screamed through his body, and he barely had enough brain power to remember to return the bite, willing his teeth sharp enough to draw the tangy, coppery burst of blood needed to finish tying their souls together for eternity. For a moment, as his body shook with pulse after pulse of his orgasm, painting the both of them with long, white ropes of come, Hunter swore he could see red threads of energy winding around them, finishing the connection first begun five years ago. Even when he closed his eyes, Hunter could see streaks of red behind his lids.
“God, baby, you are amazing,” Trey murmured, licking at the wound on Hunter’s shoulder as it healed.
“Right back at ya,” Hunter slurred, still overwhelmed by the feeling of Trey pumping him full of come. It took him a few tries to open his eyes, and when he did it was still a moment before he realized his vision had gone dazzling like it did when he was shifted. As a bird, Hunter had always been able to see in colors he had no human words for. He had only ever seen in those colors in human form when he was sharing his sight with Odin, however.
Oh.
“Trey?” Hunter sat up, not that he could go very far, anchored as he was by Trey’s knot. He looked at Trey’s face, at the shock and wonder etched into his expression. “Are you okay?”
“Am I…” Trey swallowed and tried again. “Am I seeing through your eyes?”
“Yes,” Hunter said, holding his gaze steady out of long practice. “I don’t know why, but yes. The only other person I’ve ever done this with is Odin. Without the mind-blowing orgasms.”
“God,” Trey breathed. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” Hunter said, cupping Trey’s cheek. “Shared sight normally only lasts a few minutes at most.”
“I figured,” Trey said with a sigh, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Hunter didn’t blame him in the slightest. “Well, if we only have a little time, then there’s only one thing I want to see.”
Warm, strong hands framed Hunter’s swollen belly, bigger now than when Hunter had gotten up that morning, and he looked down out of reflex. Normally, Hunter would only have seen the contrast between light and dark skin, but with his raven sight, he could see the swirls of their auras, could see the mingling energies at their groins where they were still joined. And he could see the green and yellow lights pulsing over his belly, spiking as a tiny hand pressed back against Trey’s.
“Hey there, pup,” Trey whispered, voice choked.
“Pups,” Hunter said in wonder. “At least two. That’s the only explanation for the colors. This is… rare. Gods don’t usually do multiples.”
“That’s because you all haven’t been sleeping with the right werewolves, obviously,” Trey said, and Hunter could hear the grin in his voice. But Hunter kept his eyes focused on his stomach, on the way the babies’ energies seemed to follow Trey’s touch as he traced the curve of Hunter’s stomach over and over. Hunter barely even noticed when Trey’s knot went down, too entranced by Trey’s own wonder.
“Looks like they know their Daddy is here,” Hunter said, covering Trey’s hand with his own as the extra colors started to bleed out of his vision.
The sound of loss Trey made once Hunter’s eyesight was back to normal nearly cracked Hunter’s heart in two. But instead of saying anything, Hunter climbed off Trey, letting his softened dick slip free, and rolled them to the side. He tucked Trey’s head against his chest so he could hear Hunter’s heart, and pressed Trey’s hand back against his stomach so he could feel their children moving.
Trey stayed silent, but his shoulders shook with sobs for a few minutes. Hunter let him cry, let him have all the time he needed to feel however he wanted. In all his millennia of experiences, Hunter had no true frame of reference for what Trey was going through, so he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to empathize. He just let the moment roll out however Trey needed it to, instead.
Finally, Trey calmed, his muscles relaxing and his breathing evening out. Hunter was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep when Trey spoke.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice gone ragged.
“We can experiment with it more when you’re ready,” Hunter offered. “Or not, if that’s what you want. But I think this might be part of why fate made us for each other.”
“We’ll see,” Trey said, straightening up to lay next to Hunter. “In the meantime, hand me some tissues, would you? I’m too tired to find a washcloth.”
Hunter laughed and kissed him. “Whatever you want, love.”
Chapter Fourteen
Trey
One week later
Trey woke to the unusual sensation of an empty bed. Since they’d mated, Hunter had moved in, and had proven to be the exact opposite of a morning person over the past few days. He blamed it on the babies sapping all his energy, but Hunter still had plenty of get up and go when there was sex on the offer, so Trey was pretty sure his new mate was full of shit.
Babies. Plural.
It had been a mindfuck to begin with, accepting he was going to be a father mere weeks after finding Hunter again. But the knowledge that they were having twins, confirmed in the last visit with Morgan, was somehow easier to accept. Probably because Morgan had burned Trey a file of the twins’ heartbeats, those little rapid beats doing more to make it real that anything else, aside from the couple of times he and Hunter had shared his raven sight again. So far, they’d only managed it during sex, but Hunter seemed optimistic all they needed was practice.
But. Back to Hunter and the fact that Trey’s internal clock told him it was well before 8 o’clock and Hunter was not in bed where he belonged.
“Daisy?” Trey called, smiling when he heard Daisy’s tags jingle. He dangled a hand over the edge of the bed, crooning softly when she pressed her cold wet nose to his fingers and whuffed a greeting. “Where’s Hunter at?”
She didn’t answer, of course, but she didn’t have to. Trey could smell coffee and bacon in the air, and knew exactly where his mate was. Since the morning sickness had gone, Hunter had developed a voracious appetite and an uncanny ability to eat more food than most werewolves Trey knew. Then again, thanks to Trey, Hunter was eating for three.
Feeling pretty damn proud of himself, Trey rolled out of bed and went through his morning routine. Shower, shave, teeth, dress in sweats and a t-shirt, and then Trey and Daisy made their way downstairs, pausing halfway down the steps when he heard strange voices mingling with Hunter’s.
Slowly, cautiously, Trey headed for the kitchen. He could hear warmth and happiness in Hunter’s laugh, and knew whoever they were, they were welcome visitors, but still Trey could feel his hackles on the rise at the thought of multiple strangers in his territory and so close to his pregnant mate.
“Trey,” Hunter said, smile clear as a bell in his voice as he leaned into Trey’s side, ki
ssing his jaw in greeting. “Perfect timing. Breakfast is ready. Hungry?”
“Sure. Who are our guests?”
Someone set down a pan on the stove, and someone else pushed back a one of the barstools at the counter. Trey tensed, unable to stop himself from nudging Hunter behind him, foolish as it might be to think a god would need his protection.
“These are my boys,” Hunter said evenly, pressing a warm palm between Trey’s shoulders, rubbing soothingly. “Victor and John are in town for the holidays and surprised us with breakfast.”
“Ease up there, werewolf,” the one over at the breakfast bar said. “Pops is safer with us than pretty much anyone else on this planet. No need to get your knickers in a twist over nothing.”
“Victor, don’t be a dick,” the other one, John, said. “We’re in his home uninvited and they’re newly mated. You and I both know it’s perfectly natural he be a little upset with us.” He laughed. “Frankly, I’m glad our new stepfather is so protective. Pops and the babies deserve someone to love them that much that he’d put himself in front of an unknown danger without a second thought.”
“Oh, hush up and serve the food, Johannes,” Hunter said quickly. Trey was acutely aware of the fact he hadn’t said he loved Hunter yet, and it seemed so was Hunter. “Victor, would you pour Trey a coffee, please?”
They all found seats, crowding around Trey’s breakfast bar, though there was a lot more space than he remembered there being before. It was probably one of those god things that Trey was still getting the hang of dealing with, but at least it was easier to think about that than to think about the awkward tension between him and Hunter. Trey had never said he loved anyone before, and wasn’t sure how to do it now. Or if now was even the time, considering how his centuries-old stepsons were currently judging his every move.
“And a tea for your pops,” Trey said, instead of anything of substance. “Morgan said he’s been drinking too much caffeine.”
“Ha!” John said. “I knew there was no way you were allowed coffee. Not as big as you are. Morgan wouldn’t stand for you putting our family’s first godlingsin centuries in danger in the name of a little bean brew.”
Victor laughed over the sound of their parent sputtering. “I think he just called you fat, Pops,” he said, and Trey couldn’t help but grin.
“Not fat,” he said before Hunter had to defend himself. “Gorgeous.” The taught skin over Hunter’s stomach was the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt. Hunter squeezed his knee and leaned into his side.
“So what have you boys been up to?” Hunter said, changing the topic before Trey could embarrass himself further. Relieved, Trey located his plate and utensils and ate, letting the sounds of family wash over him.
“I’m looking at starting a new charity,” John said.
“You’re always starting a new charity,” Victor said.
“Someone has to keep the family name in good standing, and it’s not going to be you,” John said. Victor snorted, but didn’t dispute that. “I’m working with a network of individuals across the country to identify magical children in the foster care system. The magical community are scattered to the winds and that’s bad enough, but when there’s no infrastructure in place to watch out for the children, we’re just begging for a baby werewolf who doesn’t know he’s a werewolf to blow the whole secret wide open.”
“Huh. You know, that sounds like something you should talk to Armand about,” Victor said. “I interviewed for his campaign media liaison position yesterday, and he’s looking to open more communities like this one when he’s elected.”
“If,” Hunter corrected him. “Unless you’ve been asking your aunts for the inside track again, and you know how I feel about that.”
“When,” Victor insisted. “I always win.”
“I hear that’s because you cheat,” Trey said. He had no idea who Armand was or what he was running for election in, but that didn’t mean he had to sit by passively and let the conversation pass him by.
“Ha!” John crowed, banging is fist on the counter and startling Trey with the sudden explosion of sound. “He’s just met you and our stepfather already has your number!”
Heart racing, Trey carefully set his fork down and reached for Daisy, who was already pressed to his legs. She leaned into his touch, a comforting presence, but it still wasn’t enough. John and Victor continued to bicker happily, their deep voices rumbling over Trey’s nerves until he felt flayed open from all the noise.
“Hey,” Hunter said quietly, rubbing Trey’s thigh to get his attention. “Didn’t you have a phone meeting this morning?”
He’d had a call with his manager the day before, and Hunter knew it. Trey almost corrected him, but then realized it for the out it was. He nodded, barely able to control his breathing. “I might be a while,” he finally said, clumsily pushing back from his seat, burning with shame at the retreat and knowing it was still better than melting down in front of Hunter’s sons.
Somehow, he managed to get to his office, the closed door sealing off the soundproofed room and insulating him. He tried logic, tried reminding himself there is no reason to be having a panic attack, and yet he could feel the anxiety clawing at this throat, his pulse pounding erratically and his palms hot and sweaty even as a cold chill broke out across his arms and shoulders. His lungs strained, and for a moment, Trey could have sworn he tasted smoke in the back of his throat.
Daisy whined as he curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees, and Trey wanted to reassure her. But it would have been a lie. He couldn’t help his dog. He couldn’t protect his men. And he sure as shit wouldn’t be of any use to his mate and their children if and when danger came for them all. Because disaster always came to destroy what he cared about. Fate was a cruel mistress, giving him his team and taking them away. Striking him blind with a freak accident. Stealing five years he should have had with the most amazing man he’d ever known, leaving him useless and broken, an alpha werewolf in name only who couldn’t even shift and go for a run without risking life and limb.
“Trey.” A familiar voice penetrated the fog of his thoughts. “Sweetheart, I need you to breathe. Please breathe with me.”
Trey shook his head. If he breathed too deeply, he’d choke on the smoke from the burning chemicals and the vaporized silver nitrate that had already blinded him. He should just give up and die like he was supposed to in the first place. Breathing would only prolong the inevitable.
“Trey, I won’t touch you, but I need you to calm down.”
“Hunter?” Trey’s voice was raspy, probably from the smoke. “It’s not safe. Should run.” Hunter needed to get out, get away from the coming flames. He’d burn, just like the others. He’d die, and Trey would never hold him again and it would be all his fault for failing in the first place.
“I’m fine,” Hunter said, although Trey could hear how scared Hunter was. And of course he was scared, they were all going to die. “The babies are fine. Daisy’s fine. John and Victor have gone into town, and it’s just us, love. Everything will be fine, just come back to me.”
“You need to get out of here while you can,” Trey gasped. “Run. Fire.”
“Okay, I’ll go,” Hunter said. “Just tell me one thing first. What do you want to name the twins if they’re girls?”
“What?”
“The twins. The ones you didn’t know anything about on your mission,” Hunter sounded so calm, and Trey couldn’t remember a time when Hunter hadn’t been his world, but he was sure it was before he’d lost everything else. “I’m pregnant, we’re in your house in Vale Valley, and we’re mated. There’s no fire, love. And if you’ll breathe with me, I’ll show you we’re safe.”
“Where are you? I need you,” Trey whispered as he flung a hand out into the darkness surrounding him, nearly sobbing with relief when Hunter grabbed it.
“Right here,” Hunter said softly. “I’m right here. Now breathe. In. You’re home. Out. We’re safe. In. Out.”
<
br /> With each breath, Trey calmed more and more. The smoke faded from his nose and mouth, and his pulse eased. He wasn’t dying. There was no fire. He was safe, curled up in a fetal position on his office floor, with his tremendously pregnant mate kneeling at his side.
“Fuck.” Slowly, feeling like his entire body was nothing but one big bruise, Trey managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. “Fuck. I am so sorry, baby. I completely lost it, didn’t I?”
“You were startled when you were already under stress,” Hunter said. He kissed Trey’s fingers, a cool, soothing press of lips that did nothing to ease his embarrassment. “And your mind is still recovering from a trauma that rewired how you respond to those kinds of things. That’s not something you need to apologize for. You didn’t hurt me.”
“You sounded pretty freaked, though,” Trey said, rubbing the back of his head. “Makes sense. Not many people would be comfortable around a military PTSD attack.”
“I was worried,” Hunter said. “For you. Back when they called it shell shock, I saw a lot of men get lost in episodes like yours and never make it out again.”
Trey scrubbed at his face, trying to clear the tears and snot as best as he could. “Did you ask them for baby names, too?”
Hunter gave a small chuckle. “It was the first thing I could think of to get through to you.” Then he groaned. “But now it’s our turn to come up with something brilliant.”
Trey tensed. “What is it? Is it time?”
“Oh fuck no,” Hunter said. “These kids have a little while left to cook. But I have no idea how I’m going to get back up off the floor. I may have to move into your office until it is.”
Trey finally managed a weak laugh, still clinging to Hunter’s hand. “We’ll figure something out, baby.”
