Stolen panties

Thalia's POV

What just happened? 

Who was that dude in the video? 

And a half-billion dollars given to charity?

What in the world were these guys actually doing? 

I managed to get out and away from the intensity of the cyber lair a few moments later. My head reeled with new questions, the peculiarity of it all. I retreated to my nauseatingly pink bedroom, and had to escape from the brothers' disturbing presence. 

The next day, I woke up to an empty home, a somber contrast to the storm brewing within me. 

I dressed, pushing myself into a semblance of normalcy, and went downstairs. 

The living room, a large and sparsely decorated but somehow cozy space, was empty. A great, streamlined TV screen was mounted on one wall, showing a muted news channel.

I walked over to it, attracted by the gentle hum of voices. The anchor was discussing global economic trends, dry stuff. 

I poured myself a cup of coffee from one of the several pots on a gleaming counter and settled onto a plush leather couch, trying to tune out.

A NEWS banner appeared on the bottom of the screen.

The anchor appeared and her voice stretched tight with barely suppressed alarm.

*"We bring to you a public safety announcement," she began, "Global meteorological and astronomical experts have confirmed the appearance of a rare Lunar Surge. 

The phenomenon, a highly unusual celestial event, has never before been observed to such a degree, and is predicted to have. significant physiological and psychological effects on certain sensitive populations."*

My coffee cup stalled on its way to my lips. 

Sensitive populations? 

My blood crawled with a chill of fear.

At the bottom of the screen, words rolled: "LUNAR SURGE: GLOBAL MENACE. NO KNOWN CURE."

The anchor continued, her voice growing desperate:

"News is already streaming in from everywhere on the globe of severe agitation, violent outbursts, an extreme loss of rational thinking, and having heightened sensitivities to lunar cycles. Medical science yet has no established cure or counter-agent for the effects of this Surge. 

These "Sensitive citizens" are advised to remain indoors, lock their doors.

And for the "General Public," avoid any individual exhibiting signs of aggressive or erratic behavior. 

This Surge will most likely induce uncontrollable primal urges, inducing extreme mental instability and an acute physical weakening of the affected. Authorities urge caution and compliance with local directives."***

My blood ran cold. Weak? Crazy? Uncontrollable base desires? No known cure? 

This.. This was them. 

This was for the "troubled" Robert's "sons." 

I knew what "sensitive populations" and "rare genetic markers" meant. It meant werewolves. It meant them. 

And if it was true, that meant that I was trapped in a house with four men losing their minds, and there was no known cure for it, and I had no idea at all how I was going to survive.

The Lunar Surge was coming. And I was squarely in its path, completely unready.

No known cure. My heart hammered, a wild, trapped bird against my ribcage. I had come here scared of monsters, and now the world was telling me they were real and I was stuck here with four of them. 

And the terrifying part? I don't know if I had to pretend not to know.

—

In the evening, after a subdued morning had slipped by in my room, there was a light tap on my door.

"Thalia?" It was Rhys' voice, softer than usual. "We're going out. Figured you might like to get out of here."

Stepped out of the room and I found them all in the sitting room, looking all ready. 

"Where are we going?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Milo practically vibrated with excitement. "The cinema! There's a new action movie out."

"A small token of appreciation for your observations yesterday." Blaze uttered trying hard not to sound so grateful. But his gaze held mine, a flicker of something very close to respect in their depths.

I hesitated. "A token of appreciation for what?" I asked, a streak of annoyance creeping into my voice. I loved that they considered me helpful but I didn't want to have some cozy situations with these men.

Rhys stepped closer, his smile broadening slightly. "Let's just say you were a key piece in a very profitable venture. Come on, it'll be good for you."

Much to my better judgment, I complied. The idea of a normal night out, even with these certainly not-so-normal men, was too tempting to reject.

The cinema was a crowded. The smell of corn filled the air, and the soft murmur of excited speech exactly the kind of relief I wanted. A moment away from the quiet house.

The brothers and I settled into the back row, Jux and Milo at my right, Blaze and Rhys at my left side. Somehow, I felt protected in the crowded cinema.

Halfway through the movie, a maddening alarm pierced, muffling the dramatic score. The screen flashed and an imposing message illuminated: "EMERGENCY EVACUATION. PLEASE PROCEED TO NEAREST EXIT."

A murmur of confusion, followed by fear, went through the audience. Meanwhile, a cacophony of phone ringing echoed around the theater.

 I could sense my own phone, which I had shoved into my pocket, pounding against me. Watching others searching in their pockets, their faces contorted with terror.

"What's happening?" I muttered to myself, a knot twisting in my stomach.

Blaze's teeth were gritted, his gold eyes scanning the panicky throng. "I think its the Surge. It's building sooner than it should."

Does that mean the News yesterday was true? And that means they knew about the surge?

"We have to leave. Now," Jax's voice was icy, his hand already on my arm, pulling me up.

The dizziness evening out had turned into a wild scramble. We pushed through the throng with a chilling purpose, their frantic urgency a jarring contrast to the general disarray. 

The journey home nobody spoke. Even if I wanted to say something, nothing really came.

The only noises that were the persistent ringing of their phones and the apocalyptic news broadcasts now blasting from the radio, reporting widespread "erratic behavior" and "unexplained phenomena."

…

I finally slept after some moments of pondering.

Suddenly,

I was a tangled, sensual net. I was in a daze of raw feeling, surrounded by the disorienting, lethal scent of wild earth and sweet, feral male_hands, incredibly strong but incredibly gentle, appeared to move across my skin, drawing heat, scorching a trail behind them. 

A low, guttural rumble vibrated near, shaking through me, a rough moan of hunger and overwhelming need that seemed to penetrate my very core. 

Soft, seeking lips caressed the sensitive flesh of my neck, made their way down my shoulder, then lower, drawing out a soundless, desperate moan that was trapped in my throat.

I felt a weighty body bearing down against mine, the heat seeping into my belly, sparking a raw, spreading heat between my legs. My nightshirt was turned, bunched up, open to the air and the unseen caress. 

A finger, or perhaps a tongue, teased my clit, tracing, pressing, sending me into a sharp gasp. I arched, pushing back against the divine touch, famished for more, for something I couldn't identify but ached for with a maddening ferocity. 

The sensation built, intensified, a whirlpool of brute, mind-blinding pleasure that built and built, until a wave of breath-robbing climax rolled over me, stole my breath and left me trembling.

I woke up with a start, a gagged gasp tearing from my throat.

My body still vibrated, every muscle pulled taut, the lingering waves of an overwhelming climax still coursing through me.

My skin burned, my breathing rasping, with a lingering aftertaste of remarkable desire. 

I was soaked, the sheets beneath me dampened by my own arousal.

My hand involuntarily dropped, tracing the line of my hip, then further down, to check for the unmistakable wetness. 

My nightshirt was rucked up, exposing my skin to the cold air and the stealthy touch. But my fingers found bare skin where they shouldn't. 

My panties.

The ones I had worn just before going to bed had vanished.

An icy, chill horror struck me, erasing the last remnants of the dream. 

This was not a dream. 

This was not imaginary. 

Someone had been in my

bedroom. Someone had touched me. And that someone had taken my panties.

My eyes swept the room in the moonlight, open and disbelieving. The door was closed, as I had left it. The window was locked. But a terrifying certainty bred in my stomach, heavy and nausea-inducing. 

Who? My mind screamed, 

Which one of them had snuck in here and done this?