THREE

RHYS’ POV

WHEN YOU see her, you will know. When you smell her for the first time, it'll feel like heaven made out of roses.

When you touch her, you’ll feel ecstasy in the hum of energy.

Pure, maddening ecstasy that drives you to the edge, that makes your heart race like it wants out of your chest, adrenaline that makes you move the heavens and the earths just to be with her.

That was the bullshit my mother shoved down my throat the second I came of age, the promise of the real Mate connection.

For years, I’d believed it was a lie.

Feelings hadn’t been a thing for me.

Or rather, I’d been numb to it.

I've had females thrown at me my entire life: strong, desperate, beautiful.

I take every one of them, searching for the slightest spark of that promised ecstasy. I go deep, trying to feel that heart-racing rush, across packs, across the werewolf towns and cities, seeking the best women, paying for it, betting for it, playing for it.

For years, nothing.

Until my eyes landed on her the first time three years ago—a small, trembling thing serving drinks at a regional summit in Arkansas—and my wolf stirred.

Now, the sight of her tear-streaked face after Silas's ritual… is driving my wolf insane.

Var won’t stop shaking…

Var won’t stop trembling…

Var won’t stop fucking whining….

From the very moment I stepped into this pack house, her scent had filled every corner, so intoxicating I'm forced to push the growls back down my throat.

Mom was right after all…

My heart's racing.

Var is in agony, desperate to soothe, to claim and rage.

I watch her small, shuddering figure retreat to gather her things with teeth digging into the inside of my cheeks, filling my mouth with the coppery taste of blood.

“Pleaseee!” Var whines like a pup in pain, pacing in the back of my mind. His desperation wants to flood my eyes with tears. "She's gone now. Let me take on him! He hurt her! I need to kill them all!”

“Wait!" I snarl back internally, trying so hard to control my twitching fingers. "She's still nearby. I will not risk a war over a poorly executed transaction. Just wait!"

"Wait for what? For him to soil her name again? He touched our mate! I know you smell him on her!"

“She was his, before us,” I remind him.

The first time I saw her, I had wondered why the Moon Goddess decided to pair me with a woman who already got claimed.

It made no sense.

Mates are supposed to be in pairs, not in trios, and I had lived years trying to understand why my Luna was someone else’s, spying from a distance, until it was unbearable to handle. The relief of knowing their claim bond is shattered leaves my heart thumping painfully.

But while I feel the slightest relief, Var wants revenge..

“Wait for what?!” he repeats with a snarl.

"Wait for her to be legally ours, you fucking animal! You get your revenge when the ink is dry. CONTROL YOURSELF!”

Var is temperamental in making decisions. When he wants to kill, he wants the blood immediately.

This is the animal I have bottled up since I was eight, and now, with her scent everywhere and the insult hanging in the air, the cork is flying off the bottle.

All those bottled-up emotions start setting loose now. It's hard to keep control when all Var wants is to sink his fangs into these losers' necks.

I wait until she is out of the doors, then swiftly, I turn to Silas. "We need to finalise things," I tell him, "Lead me to your office now."

He dismisses his crowd, guards taking control of my acquired omegas, while Var starts humming a countdown in the back of my mind for the moment we'll have Silas alone.

“Thirty…”

“Twenty-nine…”

“Twenty-eighth...”

Every path I’m led through, the smell of my mate fills it—which is ironic because she supposedly has no wolf, yet I can feel the pulse of her energy even when she’s miles away.

I hear every thud of her heartbeat as she packs her things—like a third eye, I see her leaning against a red box, stuffing it with clothes, her fingers still shaking.

Across the room, her figure reflects in a mirror.

Just as the sickening image of her on all fours for Silas remains a blur at the back of my mind, I see her now—her pink lips quivering as sobs escape them, nose blotched, face beet-red, the shuddering breath rattling her nostrils.

I’m insanely, maddeningly aware of her, and the intensity of it is a threat.

Mom never mentioned this third eye ability to peek at my mate, and it intrigues me as much as it delights Var.

She's not in the same room with me, yet, I see her in HD.

*

A FEW minutes later, I slam the paperworks—signed, sealed, and legally binding—onto the polished mahogany desk in Silas's office.

Silas Deveraux, still pale and nursing the subtle injury I know he sustained from the rejection shockwave, eyes the documents with contempt.

"Paperwork, Rhys? Really? You have to involve your legal team for a wolfless piece of inventory?"

I lean against the desk, my hands flat on the polished wood. "I don't do things messy, or sloppily, Silas. And I don't leave loopholes. What's mine is mine, and I ensure the courts agree."

Silas smirks wolfishly, "Relax, Rhys. I am not coming back for her. It is a bet you won that bitch fair and square. You have got your pathetic, broken toy now.”

Var growls, the sound loud in my ears as I slam a fisted punch into the table, splitting through the wood, leaving a visible center splinter right under my knuckles.

“Listen to me, Deveraux…”

Smirk intact, he nods, “I'm all ears.”

“I am quiet when you handle your pack business because I haven't gotten ownership yet. I let you parade her and reject her because it is the fastest way to acquire her, legally and publicly."

Silas makes the mistake of cutting me off, waving a dismissive hand. "So it's a possession kink that you have, eh?”

“No!”

However, he spews on, “It's alright, I get it. You have a thing for the forbidden fruits? Disabled?"

"I do not gather collectibles," I snarl.

"Seems like it to me," he says, leaning in like we're old pals, his breath sour. "Ten Lunas in five years. You tire of them quickly. But I can tell you, Wren is a good fuck….”

Var is impatient, pacing, growling, energy pulsating at the tip of my fingers.

I force him down, teeth gnashed as he howls in my head in resistance. “I counted to thirty! Thirty! Fucking thirty, you bitch!”

Silas doesn't sense the danger which is shocking, because with the force of Var's push, my eyes are supposed to be blood red.

Yet, he continues to chatter like he’s reciting the manual to a used good, “....she's desperate to please, she bites when you tell her to, and she whines when you deny her. And, to be honest with you, I had to fuck her one last time before I handed her over.….”

He stops, his gaze going momentarily distant, like he’s running a video loop in his mind, eyes half-lidded. “She's so goddamn tight, man, she makes you ache, and the way she squirts….?”

That does it.

Var takes over without begging this time.