The fire crackled in the hearth, shadows flickering over the lodge's heavy beams. Eila shifted uneasily under the twin gazes fixed on her.
"You should be resting," Lukas said, his tone deceptively soft.
"I couldn't sleep," she replied, tugging her muffler tighter.
Zois's mouth curved faintly. "Or maybe you didn't want to."
Her pulse skipped. She moved to sit across from them, but Zois rose smoothly, his long frame cutting between her and the safety of distance. He leaned against the mantel, arms folded, watching her with eyes that gleamed silver in the firelight.
"You bought gifts today," he murmured, low enough to make the air feel private.
Eila blinked, caught off guard. "For my family, yes—"
"Not just them." Zois's voice sharpened with amusement. "Three mufflers. Three brooches. For your mates."
Lukas stayed seated, silent, but his gaze didn't waver. It pinned her as surely as Zois's nearness did.
Her throat worked. "It was nothing… a thought. Something practical."
Zois tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he leaned closer—close enough that she caught the clean scent of pine and steel that clung to him. "Practical? Choosing colors for each of us? Crimson for me, wasn't it?" His voice dropped lower. "So you thought of me while you shopped."
Eila's cheeks burned. She took a step back, only to find Lukas rising behind her, his hand brushing her arm as if steadying her. His touch was light but firm, making it clear she was surrounded.
"And what of Leonard?" Lukas's voice was soft, but edged. "You thought of him too. You think of him often, don't you, Eila?"
She swallowed hard. "He's… he's my mate. I can't ignore that."
The tension coiled tighter, a rope drawn taut. Zois chuckled quietly, brushing his thumb over the corner of her muffler where it met her throat. "So we're all sharing space in that little heart of yours. No wonder you couldn't sleep."
Her breath caught, her wolf pushing restlessly inside her. She wanted to deny it, to step away—but Lukas's hand stayed on her arm, and Zois's nearness burned against her skin.
For a long heartbeat, no one moved. The fire crackled, shadows swaying across the lodge walls, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
The room felt smaller, as if the walls themselves leaned in to hear her answer.
Eila's pulse hammered, and she tried to step back, but Lukas's hand on her arm tightened just enough to still her. Not forceful—just undeniable.
"You bought for all three of us," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear now. "But which one were you really thinking of when you touched that fabric?"
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Zois chuckled low, moving closer until the fire painted his features in molten light. He lifted a strand of her hair between his fingers, twirling it slowly. "You're not as careful as you think, little wolf. Your eyes gave you away. You lingered longest when you chose mine."
Her cheeks flushed, heat spilling down her neck. "That's not true—"
"Then prove it," Lukas cut in, voice a velvet challenge. He turned her slightly, facing him, his steel-grey gaze sharp as blades yet softened by something hungrier beneath. His thumb brushed against her wrist, tracing her pulse, lingering there as if testing her ability to lie.
Her heart thundered.
Zois leaned down then, close enough that she felt his breath ghost against her temple. His hand pressed lightly against the mantel beside her head, caging her without ever touching. "Tell us," he whispered, his voice molten silk, "when you imagine being marked… whose teeth do you feel first?"
Her wolf whined inside her chest, torn between defiance and surrender.
She tried to speak, but the words stuck. Lukas's gaze fell to her lips, his face lowering inch by inch until only a breath separated them. The heat of him, the raw intent shimmering in his eyes, made her knees weaken.
Just as his lips grazed hers—not quite a kiss, but more than a threat—he stopped. Froze. Smirked.
"Not ready," Lukas murmured, pulling back with deliberate slowness, his fingers trailing from her arm as though releasing a tether.
Zois's chuckle was darker this time, satisfaction lacing it. "But soon."
Eila sagged against the edge of the chair, trembling from the storm they left inside her. They didn't push further—they didn't need to. The mark of their possession was already branded across her skin without a single bite.