Seraphine POV
The penthouse suddenly felt way too small.
Seraphine pressed her face deeper into the couch pillow and groaned again.
At that moment, that all-too-familiar heat hit her like a high-speed truck. Stronger than it was in the shower.
It was hunger, but deeper. Like having a knife twist through your gut while your whole body begged for... release. Not food. Not drink. But something else.
Man. Woman. Didn't matter. Her body didn't discriminate.
And she was starving in more ways than one.
She staggered toward the side table and grabbed the bottle labeled:
Suc-a-Bust: Suppress those urges with just a pill!
Bright yellow warning label: Not for long-term use. Take one pill every six hours.
She ignored it.
Tipped the bottle.
Swallowed a handful.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she waited for the burn to dull. For the ache to fade.
It didn't.
She wept out of sheer frustration.
I hate that I met him.
I hate that I fell for a human.
I hate that I believed him when he said I was ruled by lust.
I hate that I listened.
I hate that I loved him.
I hate that now I have to drug myself just to feel sane.
He was supposed to feed her with love and vitality.
Instead, he gave scraps.
Now her company—a passion project turned empire—was in jeopardy.
She moved to her minibar. A collection of rare, gifted bottles from people who loved her.
One in particular always caught her eye: a crystal skull bottle.
"Pretty," she muttered, entranced like a crow drawn to something shiny.
She grabbed it.
Took a long swig.
Stars danced behind her eyes.
"Yup. Shouldn't have done that on an empty stomach."
She squinted at the label.
Crystal Head. Canadian Vodka.
Fuuuuck, she thought. Even my internal voice is drunk.
Thud.
She blinked.
Another thud at the door.
Or was that... knocking?
She stood.
Correction: She swayed.
Trying to decide if she'd ordered more food or if there was a murderer bashing a skull on her door.
"Uhhh…" a deep voice came through, muffled.
She staggered forward like Jack Sparrow after a tequila crawl.
Peeked through the peephole—
And saw three drop-dead gorgeous men.
Her succubus instincts howled.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
Three strangers. Hot. Tall. Armed. Probably trained to kill.
Her stomach growled.
"Why do hot men keep showing up when I look like roadkill?" she muttered.
"If you are, roadkill never looked so good," said a teasing voice.
She inhaled deeply—big mistake. Bile rose to her throat.
A gurgled "urghhh" escaped her lips.
Then—clarity.
Fuck it.
If they were strippers?
Free show.
If they were serial killers?
At least she'd die hot and buzzed.
If they were neighbors?
…She preferred the serial killer option.
She flung the door open.
Skull bottle in hand like a makeshift weapon-slash-vase.
Silence.
Then the one in leather murmured,
"We've got to stop meeting like this."
"Who are you supposed to be—the Village People?" she slurred.
"Uh—we—uh—" the man in front stammered, chiseled and buttoned-up like he walked out of GQ.
"Christian Grey? Fifty Shades?"
The leather-clad one lost it. Dropped to the floor, laughing.
GQ turned to him.
"At least I'm not singing YMCA anytime soon."
"If my audience looked like her, I'd sing it on repeat," leather said.
Seraphine ignored them and turned to the giant.
He made the hallway look tiny.
"OH MY GOD. I ALWAYS WANTED A LIFE-SIZED TEDDY BEAR!"
The other two went silent. Jealousy written all over their faces.
A sultry sigh slipped from her lips as she leaned in the doorway in blue sheer lace and feathers.
"So… hic… what can I do for these lost strippers?"
As if on cue—
All their stomachs growled.
---
Zaire POV
We were all flushed from embarrassment.
I cleared my throat. "Sorry, we—we're your new neighbors."
I struggled to stop stuttering.
"My name's Zaire Panther. This is Kaiden Wolf. And the, uh… teddy bear is Theodore Bear."
Smooth.
She looked either drunk or drowsy, judging by the half-empty Crystal Skull bottle swinging from her fingers. I was betting on being drunk. But it didn't dull her charm—if anything, it made her more dangerous.
She crossed her arms, the movement pressing her already generous chest against the flimsy lace that barely counted as clothing. My brain short-circuited.
"I thought I'd seen my fair share of handsome men, but I've just been proven wrong," she said. "Where have these men been hiding, and how many hearts have they broken?" she asked.
I felt my face further redden, my body unable to decide if my blood should travel up to my brain or further down, my eyes unable to decide whether to look at her beautiful face or... I stifled a groan.
"None, ma'am," I said.
One glance and she'd left a permanent mark on my sanity. And now? She was still in that damn lingerie. Only now it had a silky blue robe. It was even further enticing, making you want to slowly unravel her.
"Kitty," she said suddenly.
"I'm sorry?"
The word snapped me out of my spiral.
The sweet scent of vanilla hit me again. We're starving, my inner voice growled.
"Can I call you Kitty, Wolfy, and Teddy instead?" she asked, smiling, slurring—definitely tipsy.
"Absolutely!" Kaiden grinned.
"Only for you," Theodore rumbled, smiling.
"Y-Yes?" I barely managed, not even sure what I'd agreed to before she yanked me inside by my necktie.
"Wait—" I grabbed the doorframe, the last of my logic clinging for survival. "We just came to ask for food recommendations. We're not strippers!"
She licked her lips slowly, showing a mischievous forked tongue. "Hmm… you look so desperate. It's so sexy."
We groaned in unison.
"Us hungry," she added, explaining like we were toddlers. "Me have food. Let's all eat."
"Can't argue with that," Kaiden said, pushing past me like a man on a mission.
"Shoes off!" she called, wagging a finger at us like a scolding mom.
"Yes, ma'am," we chorused without hesitation.
What were we doing? Three alphas, blindly obeying a lingerie-clad stranger. This was completely illogical.
She turned toward the kitchen island, her robe lifting just enough to showcase a bouncing, heart-shaped tail. Her perfect behind swayed hypnotically. I stared.
What does "illogical" even mean again?
"Logic.exe file not found" is what was in my head.
Kaiden dove into the takeout. Theodore was already grabbing plates.
"You boys always this obedient, or am I just that charming?" she teased.
"Oh, I forgot," she said. Before we could answer, she walked back to me, her strut making her bosoms jiggle at every step. "My name's Seraphine Valak," she outstretched her hand to offer to shake mine, which I took.
"And I think I'm gonna throw up," she added, turning on her heel and rushing off. But she tripped on her heels and falling to the side.
I rushed to catch her.
We all did.
—