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You’re really ours now.
Last Updated:
2025-06-13 18:28:40
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The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Mating
Amara's POV And I couldn't take it. The slow, agonizing, delicious torture was pushing me to the brink. I needed more. I reached behind me, my fingers tangling in the thick hair on Jaxon's thigh, pulling him closer still, my back arching into his relentless pressure. He let out a low curse, a guttural sound of pure pleasure, and his hands, powerful and impatient, slipped beneath the lace of my panties, discarding the flimsy barrier. His fingers were hot, seeking, finding my aching core. When I moaned, a raw sound of pure bliss, Ryder's eyes, dark with desire, met mine. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his jaw tight. “Tell us what you want, Luna,” he demanded, his voice low and strained, thick with urgency. “You,” I said, breathless, barely able to form the word. “I want all of you. Every touch. Every kiss. Every part of this bond.” Ryder’s gaze never left mine as he reached down, gripping himself, his arousal a testament to his own intense need. His eyes were hooded
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Mating
Amara's POV I wasn’t sure when the soft touches, the quiet affirmations, turned into something deeper, something far more primal and consuming. Perhaps it was the way Ryder’s lips, so impossibly soft, brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, a possessive, tender exploration that felt like he was memorizing the very shape of me. Or maybe it was the way Caden’s hand, strong and sure, found mine under the silken blanket, his fingers curling with an aching, unspoken need that mirrored my own. Jaxon was still at my back, a solid, grounding presence, always the last to speak his heart but the first to feel everything too deeply, too fiercely. His broad chest pressed against my spine, the familiar tension in him a low thrum against my skin. One powerful arm slipped beneath my waist, pulling me closer still, as if he was truly scared I’d disappear again, vanish into the moonlight like a fleeting dream. My breath caught in my throat as Ryder shifted, his hand gently cupping my chee
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Nightfall at the Mansion.
Amara's POV The mansion was swathed in a profound silence, bathed in the soft, golden glow of strategically placed lamps and the hushed reverence that always followed moments of immense significance. The Binding Ceremony had concluded hours ago, yet its powerful echo still resonated within me, a subtle thrumming beneath my skin, wrapping around me like invisible threads of fate. I stood by the window in one of the upper rooms, a chamber more luxurious and intimately appointed than any I had ever occupied, gazing out over the moonlit forest. The ceremonial gown I still wore, despite the late hour, shimmered faintly in the dim light, its silver embroidery catching the elusive moonlight. Though cloaked in silk and intricate patterns, I felt utterly bare, exposed. Yet, paradoxically, I also felt a profound sense of completeness. An integration of self I hadn't known was possible. Behind me, the soft creak of the door opening broke the stillness, but I didn't turn. I didn’t have to. I
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast You’re really ours now.
Amara's POV The cacophony of cheers and the joyous clamor of the pack faded behind us, slowly receding into the tapestry of the moonlit forest. We slipped away from the sacred clearing like shadows, our hands brushing, fingertips trailing sparks of nascent connection, our footsteps soft and whisper-quiet on the mossy ground. Moonlight poured over the ancient trees like liquid silver, dappling the forest floor in an ethereal glow. For once, the world didn’t feel too loud, too cruel, or too uncertain. It just felt… right. Profoundly, unequivocally right. The kind of right that settled deep in your bones and resonated with the very core of your being. I didn’t know who reached for me first—maybe it was Ryder, his innate charm drawing me in, or perhaps Caden, his steady presence a magnetic force—but suddenly, I was enveloped. Not seized, not taken, but surrounded. One was behind me, a broad, warm presence anchoring me, another stood directly in front, his gaze holding mine captive, an
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Binding ceremony
Amara's POV The sacred clearing was alive, pulsating with an ethereal glow, bathed in the gentle luminescence of countless lanterns and the incandescent wash of the full moon. The air hummed with a tangible energy, the very trees whispering with a hush that felt less like wind and more like reverence, as if holding their breath for the sacred ceremony. The pack had gathered in a wide, unbroken circle, a silent, expectant ring of faces, their eyes reflecting the shimmering light, forming a protective, watchful barrier around the ancient Moonstone Altar. It gleamed in the center, a monumental slab of polished white stone, worn smooth from centuries of rituals, of vows made and bonds forged. I stood beneath the majestic full moon, its powerful light a beacon, my heart pounding a frantic, primal drum against my ribs, each beat echoing the tumultuous symphony within me. Three distinct heartbeats answered mine—familiar, chaotic, yet surprisingly steady, like the undeniable pull of gravit
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Do you think they’ll regret this?
Amara's POV The moon, a heavy, swollen orb of molten gold, hung in the ink-black sky, radiating an almost sentient glow. It felt less like a celestial body and more like a silent, all-knowing presence, aware of the profound, sacred event that was about to unfold. Its luminescence streamed through the large window of the guest chamber, painting the familiar room in hues of silver and shadow. I sat before the ornate, antique mirror, its polished surface reflecting a distorted image of myself. This room, once a cold, isolated annex at the very edge of the pack house, a place of quiet solitude and sometimes, crushing loneliness, was now different. They had moved me. It was now situated right in the heart of the main wing, pulsating with the distant hum of pack life, a steady, reassuring warmth that seeped into the very walls. It was safe. Too safe. Too many memories, both bitter and sweet, pressed into the very fabric of the old stone. Across the bed, a vision in pristine white, lay t
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