Chapter Three

VIKTOR*

I hated clubs.

Too loud. Too crowded. Too many people pretending they were having the time of their lives while drowning themselves in alcohol and bad decisions.

Marco loved places like this.

I barely tolerated them.

I adjusted the cuff of my black sleeve as I walked away from the private booth we had reserved upstairs, the bass from the music vibrating faintly beneath my boots. The scent of liquor, sweat, and perfume mixed heavily in the air, irritating my wolf enough to make him restless.

“Five minutes,” I had told Marco before leaving. “I’m getting a drink.”

That had been the plan. Nothing more but then I smelled her and my steps halted instantly.

Every sound around me dulled.

The crowd blurred.

And my wolf slammed into the front of my mind so violently that my chest tightened.

Mate.

The word echoed through me like a growl.

I frowned immediately.

Impossible.

At fifty-one years old, I had long accepted that fate had skipped me entirely. Most wolves found their mates before thirty. Some were unfortunate enough to find them later.

But this late?

Unheard of.

Yet the scent invading my senses nearly brought me to my knees.

A harsh scent of Vodka and then Jasmine and oh, the smell of Rain.

My jaw clenched as I followed the scent through the crowded bar almost instinctively, my wolf growing more agitated with every step.

Then I saw her. Sitting alone at the counter. She was beautiful. Not in the artificial way most women in this place tried to be.

No.

Her beauty hit harder because it was real, messy, and emotional.

Her eyes were glossy from tears she was trying—and failing—to hide. Her cheeks were flushed from alcohol, lips slightly swollen from biting them too hard. And despite the sadness practically pouring off her, she still carried this quiet elegance that made it impossible to look away.

She looked exhausted.

Heartbroken.

And my wolf hated it instantly.

His growl rumbled through my chest.

Who hurt her?

I watched her pour another glass of vodka with shaking fingers, and before I could stop myself, I was already moving toward her.

The moment my skin touched hers—

Heat rushed through my veins so fast it almost felt violent.

Her scent wrapped around me fully now, driving every rational thought from my head. My wolf surged forward possessively, practically snarling at the idea of anyone else touching her.

Mine.

The word came instinctively.

Dangerously.

I forced myself to remain calm.

She was drunk and obviously upset. And judging by the tears in her eyes, someone had made her deeply sad tonight.

Then she looked at me.

And fuck.

Those eyes.

Even dazed with alcohol, they hit harder than anything I had experienced in years.

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

Beautiful.

When she started rambling about her ex-boyfriend, my control nearly snapped completely.

He cheated, insulted, and humiliated her.

I listened silently, though rage simmered beneath every breath I took. Especially when she repeated those disgusting words he had called her.

Old.

My fingers curled against the counter so tightly the wood creaked softly beneath my grip. He'd better pray we never meet. The moment he disrespected my mate, he became a dead man walking. I’d take great pleasure in teaching him the price.

Not only had he called her old—he’d called her loose.

The words ignited a feral rage in my chest. Just the thought of his filthy hands on my mate, his dick anywhere near her, sent my vision tunneling into black. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles cracked, the beast inside me roaring to rip him apart.

Before I could answer her, Marco stopped beside me with an irritated sigh. “Damn it, Viktor. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Marco froze mid-sentence the second he scented her.

I watched the exact moment realization hit him. His eyes widened slightly. Then he looked at me.

“…No way.”

I exhaled slowly.

“Fortunately,” I muttered, unable to stop staring at the drunken woman beside me, “there is very much a way.”

Then she looked up at me again with those drunken eyes and mumbled, “Why are there suddenly two sexy men?”

I nearly laughed.

Nearly.

She pushed her drink aside and stared at both of us for close to two minutes before finally speaking with her fists clenched in determination, “What are both your names?”

She slowly pushed the half-empty glass of vodka away from herself, nearly missing the counter entirely before correcting it with a tiny frown.

Then she turned toward us fully.

And stared.

Not casually either.

No—she stared at both of us with the most intense concentration I had ever seen from a person in my entire life.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as they moved between me and Marco again… and again… and again.

Marco shifted awkwardly beside me under the scrutiny.

I, however, remained still.

Mostly because I was trying very hard not to find her absolutely adorable.

A full minute passed.

Then another.

Finally, she straightened in her seat with drunken determination, fists clenching dramatically on top of the counter like she was preparing for battle.

“What,” she began slowly, pointing between us, “are both your names?”

Marco snorted under his breath.

I shot him a warning look before answering calmly, “Viktor.”

She repeated it under her breath.

“Vik… tor…”

Like she was testing how it felt on her tongue.

My wolf practically preened at the sound.

“And him?” she asked, lazily pointing at Marco.

“Marco,” my brother answered himself, amusement flickering across his face. “You’ve been staring at us like you’re trying to solve a murder case, sweetheart.”

She ignored him completely.

Instead, her eyes widened slightly as realization hit her drunken brain.

Then she gasped.

Actually gasped.

“Oh my God.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re twins.”

Silence.

Then Marco barked out a laugh loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. “Congratulations,” he drawled. “The alcohol hasn’t killed all your brain cells yet.”

She squinted at him offensively.

“You’re rude.”

“And you’re drunk.”

She pointed at him again like she had just proven a very important point. “See? Rude.”

I couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped me.

Her cheeks were flushed deeper now, the alcohol loosening her tongue in ways that made my wolf hungry. My mate—*our* mate—shouldn’t be this exposed around strangers. But the scent of her arousal was already starting to thread through the jasmine and rain, faint but unmistakable.

She licked her lips slowly, then blurted out:

“I want to fuck both of you.”

The words hit the air and Marco went completely still beside me. I felt my own pulse slam against my throat.

She didn’t stop there. Her voice dropped, shaky but fierce, like she was confessing something dangerous.

“I’ve never done a threesome before. Never even thought about it… but looking at you two—*twins*—fuck, it’s making me stupid wet. My ex said I was loose and old and boring in bed. I want to prove him wrong tonight. I want both of you inside me. At the same time. I don’t care how. Just… make me forget him.”

Silence stretched for a beat.

Her eyes flicked between us again, suddenly nervous, like the boldness had cost her everything. “Unless… unless you don’t want me. I know I’m a mess right now—”

I moved before I could think.

My hand slid under her chin, tilting her face up gently but firmly so she had to look at me. Her breath hitched at the contact. Heat flared between us so strongly I could feel it in my teeth.

“Careful, little mate,” I murmured, voice low and rough. “You have no idea what you’re offering.”

Marco stepped closer on her other side, caging her in without touching her yet. His usual easy smirk was gone, replaced by something darker, more predatory. “She’s drunk, Viktor.”

“I know.” My thumb brushed her lower lip. She trembled. “Which is why we’re not doing this here.”

Her eyes widened, hopeful and glassy. “You’re… you’re saying yes?”

I leaned in until my lips brushed the shell of her ear, inhaling that intoxicating mix of vodka, jasmine, and pure, needy woman. My cock was already hard enough to ache.

“I’m saying you’re coming with us. Tonight you’re ours. We’ll take care of you—every inch of you. But only if you still want it when you’re sober enough to remember our names in the morning.”

Marco’s hand settled lightly on her lower back, steadying her as she swayed. “And we’re going to make damn sure you never think about that worthless ex again.”

She let out a shaky little moan that went straight to my groin. Her small hand grabbed the front of my shirt like she was afraid we’d disappear.

“Please,” she whispered. “I want it. Both of you. I’ve never been this turned on in my life.”

I exchanged a single look with Marco. The bond between us—twin alphas—hummed with the same raw need. She was ours. Fate had finally delivered her, drunk and heartbroken in a shitty club, but still ours.

I paid for her drinks, then scooped her up against my chest without warning. She gasped, arms looping around my neck as her face pressed into my throat.

“Fuck… you smell so good,” she mumbled against my skin, lips brushing me. “Both of you do. Like… like safety and sex at the same time.”

Marco chuckled darkly as he cleared the way through the crowd, one hand resting possessively on her thigh while I carried her. “You’re going to be a handful, sweetheart.”

She smiled drunkenly, already rubbing her cheek against my chest like a contented kitten. “Your handful. For tonight.”

I didn’t correct her.

My wolf was already chanting *mine* with every step toward the exit, and I knew Marco’s was doing the same.

We were going to ruin her for any other man.

And she was going to love every second of it.

---

The drive back to our penthouse was pure torture.

She sat curled in my lap in the backseat, her soft curves pressed against my chest, her breath warm and sweet against my neck. Marco drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. The scent of her arousal had thickened the entire car—jasmine, rain, and slick, needy woman. My cock strained painfully against my slacks, and every small shift of her ass against me made my wolf snarl for release.

Her fingers played lazily with the buttons of my shirt, occasionally brushing the skin underneath. “You’re so warm,” she whispered, nuzzling closer.

She lifted her head, eyes still glassy but sharper now. The fresh air outside the club had helped a little. “I meant what I said. I want you. Both of you.” Her voice dropped, almost shy. “I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like… my whole body is aching for you.”

I tightened my arm around her waist, my hand splaying possessively over her hip. “You’re going to get us, little mate. First, we need a little bit of that alcohol out of your system. We don't want you regretting it as soon as you wake up."

By the time we reached the penthouse, she was more coherent, though still delightfully loose-limbed and flushed. I carried her inside, her legs wrapped around my waist, face buried in my neck as she inhaled me like I was oxygen. Marco locked the door behind us, his eyes dark with hunger.

I set her gently on the wide leather couch in the living room. “Water first,” I said, heading to the kitchen. Marco stayed with her, crouching in front of her and brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked softly.

She blinked, then smiled shyly. “Maria.”

Maria.

The name settled in my chest like it had always belonged there.

I returned with a glass of water and made her drink half of it while I knelt on her other side. She obeyed, watching us with wide, curious eyes.

I took the glass from her and set it aside. “How are you feeling now, Maria?”

She licked her lips. “Sober enough to know I still want this. Sober enough to be embarrassed that I basically begged two strangers to fuck me in a club.” Her cheeks burned darker. “But not sober enough to stop wanting it.”

I cupped her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. “Good. Because we’re not strangers. Not really.” I leaned in, letting my lips hover just above hers. “You’re ours, Maria. You feel it too, don’t you?”

She shivered. “I feel… something. Like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life and didn’t know it.”

Marco’s hand slid up her thigh, stopping just beneath the hem of her short dress. “Then let us show you.”

We didn’t rush.

We stripped her slowly on the couch—first the dress, revealing smooth skin and black lace underwear that made both of us growl. Her breasts were full and perfect, nipples already tight. When Marco pulled her panties down, the scent of her drenched pussy hit us like a drug.

“Fuck,” Marco breathed, spreading her thighs. “Look at this pretty little cunt. Already dripping for us.”

Maria whimpered, trying to close her legs from embarrassment, but I held them open gently.

“No hiding,” I murmured, kissing the inside of her knee. “Not from us.”