by Lynn Stark
This was one of those moments when his life could go either way. He could recover from one hell of an amazing orgasm, or he could die from sheer sexual bliss.
The recovery was slow, but Chance was savoring it, because Larson hadn’t yet finished. It didn’t take but another couple of minutes for him to finish. When he did so, he filled the condom between them with a load of hot cum. For a few seconds Chance was tempted to put an end to their use of a condom. Cain had also agreed to use them, because Larson wanted to wait. However, Chance’s resistance to the idea of becoming impregnated was weakening.
Chance didn’t open his eyes until Pebin bounced on the bed beside him. “I’m dying here! Someone needs to fuck and suck me!” Then he watched as his remarkable mate began to kiss and lick Larson and Cain, climbing onto them until they tumbled over on the bed. Their hands roamed over him, pulling him down between them. Lips. Hands. Dicks. They were soon on and in Pebin, making the fairy, obviously, deliriously happy.
With muscles that felt like gelatin noodles, Chance didn’t move. Yawning, he closed his eyes again, soon shutting out the moans, begging, and the violently rocking bed.
* * * *
When Chance woke hours later, it was to discover he was part of a tangle of bodies, legs and arms. It felt good on all levels. It made him feel as if he was part of something incredibly special. He had three mates to wake up to. That was certainly better than being on your guard in a box, hoping none of those sharing the alley with you decided they wanted what little you possessed.
Lifting Cain’s arm gently, he placed it on the mattress before sliding his leg from beneath Larson’s. Then he reluctantly left the bed and the comfort he gained from being with his mates. His bladder, however, had different needs. He shut the door behind him and then took care of business. Then he took a shower, reviving himself.
There was little he could do to ease the ache where he’d been bitten by each of his mates. He had returned the favor. Now their bonds were complete, which did a lot to settle the beast within him. Chance didn’t know if the beast was actually his werewolf, or the memories of his past. Either way, he felt at peace.
After pulling on a pair of underwear and shorts, Chance headed downstairs to make coffee. He wasn’t in the mood yet for breakfast. It was something he would wait for, until his mates woke and joined him downstairs. Chance walked into the kitchen and stopped dead, staring at the windows, where curtains had once hung.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, forgetting completely about the sleeping mates above him, as his gaze went to each of the windows now missing their coverings. “Who the fuck steals curtains?”
There was a screech from upstairs. Then there was the sound of stomping feet as Larson and Cain ran through the house. Pebin flew into the room, buzzing over Chance’s head, going from one window to another.
“I can’t believe it!” he cried, distressed. “I chose that fabric myself, and my mother made those curtains for me! They were special.” Pebin growled and spun around in the air. “I’m going to gut whoever is stealing our stuff. I know it’s just stuff, but we’re going to have a baby in the house soon. We can’t have people coming in here stealing things. They might do something that could harm our child.”
Chance had to agree with that. Thieves were lowlife scum. Sure, there were worse types of people, but as far as he was concerned, thieves were some of the worst. They took from other people, without conscience or regret. At times they believed they were justified and innocent of any wrongdoing. There was no justification for theft of anything, whether it was a crust of bread, a book, or a million-dollar piece of art. If and when these people were caught, and he believed they would be, he hoped Ian would place a severe punishment upon them. He’d heard about some of the old ways. Maybe a public flogging would do the trick?
Reaching up, Chance caught Pebin as he started back across the kitchen. Tugging him downward, Chance pulled him against his chest to hug him comfortingly. A dam burst as Pebin buried his head against Chance’s neck and began to cry helplessly. Chance didn’t know if it was the anger over the thefts or the changes his body was going through as the baby grew inside of him. Perhaps it was both. He didn’t care. Seeing Pebin so upset was upsetting in itself. His claws appeared, replacing his fingernails, and lengthened to a point he had to be careful he didn’t scratch his mate. Hair poked out through his skin, and he felt the bones in his face begin to reshape.
Taking a deep breath, Chance began to force his werewolf back in. The creature wanted to do damage. It took time, but his human half was back in control. Feeling helpless, he did all he could to comfort his small mate as he let out the flood of emotion. After a few minutes, Pebin finally sniffled and pulled back to rub his eyes and wipe his nose on the back of his hand.
Grimacing, Chance wet to get a paper towel, only to discover that the towels and the counter stand that held them were gone. He grabbed a pot holder from the drawer and offered it to Pebin. He didn’t hesitate to use it.
“Ian and Malcolm are on their way over,” Cain told them as he walked into the kitchen. Chance saw that he was fully dressed, not a hair out of place.
Larson still stood there as naked as Chance, concern on his rugged face as he patted Pebin’s back. “I’m going to head upstairs to get dressed. Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?” he asked the fairy.
Pebin nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Can we get a guard dog and some Tasers? Maybe we can put an electric fence around the yard.” He sniffled again, his beautiful green eyes filling with tears. The sight broke Chance’s heart. “I know that the things they’re taking aren’t expensive. But they meant a lot to me. I created most of it for our home, to make it special.”
“Darling Pebin,” Cain said, moving closer, “we all appreciate your efforts and we will help in whatever way we can, so that you can create your beautiful objects once more.” Cain’s fingers slid through the silky strands of Pebin’s hair.
The vampire was something of a poet. Chance couldn’t have put it so nicely. He would have said something like replace. Deep down he knew the stolen objects couldn’t be replaced in the emotional sense. They meant a lot to the fairy and had been growing on Chance. He even enjoyed using his blinged-out toothbrush.
Larson left the kitchen. Pebin released his hold on Chance and wiggled until his feet were on the floor. “I think I’ll take a break for a few days. Thinking about all I have to do is wearing on my brain. And I was hoping to start on the nursery.”
“Take all the time necessary,” Larson told him, moving so he could lean down and press a kiss to Pebin’s lips. “And we’ll do whatever you need, to help you with your projects.”
“Thank you. You guys are the best.” Pebin forced a smile to his lips.
There was a knock on the front door. They left the kitchen, Chance making a detour to the stairs. He had to get dressed. When Pebin would have accompanied Cain to the door, Chance snagged him by the wrist and led him upstairs.
Pebin giggled. “I forgot I was naked. And that’s weird. The fae aren’t like shifters. We don’t go around naked in front of each other.” He giggled again. “But I like seeing you guys walking around naked. You’re all hunks.”
Squeezing the smaller man to his side, they hurried along the hallway to their bedroom. “I like seeing you naked, too. Your sweet body is perfect.”
That earned a kiss for Chance. It was no surprise when his dick began to fill with blood. But they needed to get downstairs. Hopefully Ian, and others on the farm, could discover who the thieves were.
Putting Pebin away from him, Chance took a deep breath and smiled. “Let’s take a shower and get dressed. After we’ve spoken with Ian, we can go in town to shop for more supplies. That will cheer you up, even if you don’t use them today.”
Nodding, Pebin grinned. “I hope the craft store got more glitter in.”
“I doubt they’ve ever sold every bottle they had in the store before.”
“Glitter is good for everything. I love i
t.”
There was no doubt about that. Pebin put glitter on a lot of things.
They showered quickly and dressed, and then went downstairs. Ian and Malcolm were in the kitchen. Neither of the massive shifters appeared happy. And they had no reason to be. There were thieves on the farm, or people coming onto the farm to steal, and it made everyone feel uneasy. If it was outsiders, they could be a potential threat in other ways. It was their greatest fear, that Pebin and their unborn child could be hurt during one of the break-ins.
The idea sent a chill through him.
“From now on, one of us will always be with Pebin,” Chance said after the clan leader and his mate left the house.
They had promised to increase the patrols throughout the farm, doubling the guards between it and the grounds where the medieval fair was held four days each week throughout the summer. It was a main source of income for the people living on the farm, but the profits benefited everyone, in the long run. Housing was provided for the residents, including utilities, which was now produced by solar panels and smaller wind turbines placed around the farm.
Chance hoped more guards would be enough to protect Pebin and their baby. One thing he did know. If the thieves returned, and he caught them, they would regret their dishonest activities for the rest of their lives.
* * * *
Humming happily, Pebin sat at the kitchen table and dabbed gold glitter paint on one of the rocks he’d washed and dried carefully for his project. Despite having already decorated once, he enjoyed the activity. His gaze kept wandering to the containers filled with colorful pieces of glass Cain had bought for him, wondering where he could use them. Then a grin spread across his face. He could make stepping stones from concrete. The glass could be placed randomly or in designs in the wet concrete. It would be beautiful, and he could use the stepping stones from the house to the new greenhouse.
After finishing with his painting project, Pebin picked up the seed catalog he was ordering dwarf fruit trees from. They would have their own small orchard right there in their large backyard.
A sound from behind Pebin made him frown. Chance was outside with Larson and Cain. He hadn’t heard the front door open. His mates were trying to figure out how the thieves were getting into the house, now that it had been locked up tight. Marrok, the resident wizard, had visited, too. According to him, no magic had been used around the house. He then cast a spell to ward off danger and to prevent thieves from being able to enter.
Pebin’s eyes went wide when he turned and saw the intruder. It was not what he was expecting. A shocked cry escaped him when his hand was taken and he was tugged from the chair. Resistance was futile. His heart clenched as he was taken away by a young troll.
The house disappeared. The next thing Pebin knew he was in a cave. There were candles set around, adding a dismal amount of light.
Blinking, he saw that there were three young trolls in all. Pebin recognized them as Fred and Misty’s triplets, Trina, Trixie, and Ollie.
“Make it pretty,” Trina told him.
Trixie grinned, seemingly pleased with herself. “We brought your stuff to use.”
Pebin could see that. There were piles of colorful stones, the paintings, pillows, along with the rest of the things they’d stolen from the house. Then there were groups of items Pebin didn’t recognize. He guessed that they were what had been taken from others on the farm.
“We have to go now. Daddy is calling us,” the boy said.
Pebin reached out. “No!” he screamed. Icy terror shot through him when he was left alone in the blink of an eye.
* * * *
“Ah, there you are,” Fred said as the triplets popped up from the ground in front of him. He smiled and patted each of them on the head. “Are you ready to go? Your grandparents are excited about our visit.”
There was cheering and clapping hands. Misty and Conan joined them, along with the last of the bags they would be taking. Once everyone was gathered, they were off to Norway to visit his parents for two weeks.
* * * *
Damp, chilled, Pebin huddled in a pile of pillows and under a crocheted afghan. He had tried to get out of the cave so many times, hoping to get back home or to the fairy realm, that he was exhausted. He had looked through everything that had been stolen. There was no phone, not that it would have worked. Would a cell phone work in a cave? He doubted it. There were no flashlights, either, so he’d blown out all but two of the candles. There was one lighter stick, so he could relight candles. For now, he wanted to preserve them for future use. While he prayed he wouldn’t be trapped long, he wasn’t foolish. What he had also hoped to find was water and some kind of food. He’d found neither.
Pebin looked around. The cave wasn’t large. Probably no more than fifteen feet by twenty feet. There were natural ledges in the rock, where the children had placed objects, attempting to decorate on their own. There was a small opening at one end, but it wasn’t large enough for him to squeeze through. Fortunately, it did allow air to come into the space.
Pebin didn’t like the dark or how the cave walls seemed to be closing in on him. The tiny flickering flames from the candles created creepy shadows that fed his terrified imagination. Whimpering, Pebin pulled the afghan closer around his ears and made himself as small as possible in his nest of pillows.
To prevent himself from completely losing the relative calm that was upon him, he focused on thoughts of his mates and being reunited with them. A smile curved his mouth, and he took a deep breath, confident that his mates would find him soon.
Pebin fell asleep thinking of kissing each of the men he loved.
Chapter Eleven
Larson was so angry that he put his fist through the wall. It had been hours since Pebin had disappeared. The entire farm had been searched, buildings included, and there was no sign of Pebin anywhere. The elven had searched through their village and found nothing. The patrols were widening their range, trying to find a scent of the missing fairy. Cain had gone to the fairy realm to see if Pebin had decided to visit his family. He had not. Now Pebin’s parents and brothers were here on the farm, helping in the search, and trying to sense his location. They had no luck, and Larson didn’t like the despair he saw on their faces. They feared the worst.
However fearful he was, Larson could not. Until there was confirmation Pebin was dead, he would hold on to hope. If Pebin had died, Larson believed he would have felt the loss of his mate.
“How the fuck did anyone get in here to take him? The doors were locked, as were the windows.”
It was a question that had been asked more than once. Their confusion mixed with desperation. There was one thing Larson did know. He wanted to kill those responsible for taking their mate. Unfortunately, there had been no scent discovered that wasn’t supposed to be where it was.
Believing his mate alive, Larson hoped Pebin wasn’t too afraid. The fairy had such a gentle soul. But he was feisty, too. Knowing that gave Larson hope that Pebin would be able to get through this traumatic event.
Something Cain suggested they try was communicating with Pebin through a mate’s bond. Not everyone achieved it, and it was limited to mates of three or more. Larson thought that was unfair. He believed everyone should be able to do it. None of them had tried since they completed their mating. His heart jumped when he felt someone’s thoughts in his mind. He didn’t know who it was, until Chance asked, Is anyone home, asshole?
Don’t swear in my head, jerk, he responded. He glared at Chance, where he leaned tiredly against the kitchen counter. Cain, can you hear me? Larson didn’t know how else to phrase it. How did you describe silent sound, those inner thoughts directed at someone else? He wondered, his brain ready to short circuit.
Cain nodded. He reached out to give Larson’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Yes. So, which of us should try communicating with Pebin first? I don’t believe we should all try at once. It might be overwhelming for him, if we’re successful.
That made sense.
Not knowing the situation Pebin was in, whether he was being cared for or abused, they didn’t want to add to his stress. “I’ll do it. The two of you should rest,” Larson said aloud.
That statement didn’t go over well. Neither of his mates moved.
Pebin, sweetheart, this is Larson. Do you hear me? Larson didn’t know if it was manageable, but he tried to make the “voice” gentle. He didn’t want to scare his mate. He also wanted to be soothing.
There was no response. Hope took a direct hit, but it didn’t prevent him from trying again and again. Then Cain and Chance took turns trying to contact Pebin. As their failure increased, so did their fear.
Their mate couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. Pebin was vibrant and happy, even when he was scrapping with Chance. Laughter filled their home, as did their love. Losing Pebin would be an incredible loss to them all. They would lose so much.
But it was still something Larson wasn’t willing to contemplate more than a few seconds. His will was challenged during the next few days. The search continued. Something that was noticed, however, was the fact that the thefts had stopped. No one was missing anything. Not even a salt shaker. Did that have special meaning? Had kidnapping Pebin been the primary goal and the thefts only a distraction? To what purpose? No demands had been made. If the kidnappers wanted money, then they should have heard something by now.
Larson stood between two trees, his arms outstretched, his fingers biting into the rough bark as he attempted yet again to contact Pebin through their mating bond. This is Larson. I’m here for you, Pebin. Can you hear me? If so, please answer. We need to know you’re alive.
