AT THE SAME TIME
MICHAEL
The steam curled like fingers toward my face, warm and sweet, with a hint of cinnamon that was too sweet. My nostrils flared, wolf instincts snarling poison, trap, lie, but the ache in my bones whispered just one sip, just warmth. Selene stepped closer, boots silent on stone.
"Enjoy your tea, sweetie." She purred, voice like silk over blades.
I didn't move. Not yet. My claws stayed dug into the floor. My tail stiffened as her shadow stretched toward me a predator offering mercy that wasn't mercy at all.
"You don't have to play saint." I hissed through fangs. "I've seen what happens to omegas who drink from your hands… they wake up chained to prophecy… or worse."
Her smile didn't waver. Calm. Cold. Perfect.
"And yet here you are." She said softly, tilting her head. "The Moon's chosen fool, the fake saint who refuses grace." She crouched again, close enough that her scent, jasmine and frost, wrapped around me like a leash I couldn't see.
"But tell me… how long can defiance keep you warm at night? How many nights have you trembled alone in this cell? No mother's lullaby… no father's howl to guard your sleep…"She asked.
My breath caught. She had touched a nerve, and she knew it.
"Don't." My voice cracked, just once, but fire roared behind it. "You don't get to speak their names."
"I do." She whispered, her eyes gleaming silver-fire under moonlight, "Because I was there when Charlie vanished... when the stars screamed for a new Saint. And now?" She gestured lightly toward the cup. "Now look at you the boy with crescent marked skin burning hotter than any before... fighting fate while bleeding from every pore."
I growled low, not fear now but pain remembered.
And still… That smell of the tea it called something deeper than hunger. A pull older than thought. The omega's curse that draws even now to the comfort offered by its captor. One sip... Just one. No! With a snarl ripped raw from my chest, I knocked the tray aside. Porcelain shattered! and tea splashed across stone, staining white tiles amber red like blood spilled over altar steps. Silence crashed down hard, as heavy as chains falling into place. Selene didn't flinch. Something was not right. Slowly... slowly... she lifted sad eyes filled not with anger but pity?
"Oh Michael…" Her breath stirred cold against my ear as wind followed her whisper. "You already drank it."
And then, I froze. A heart stuttering not from terror but heat rising low in the belly a pulse throbbing between thighs.
"No…"I muttered.
"Yes."Selene grinned.
"Our little wolf is heating up."Adrian smirked.
"Smell that? Like honeyed moonlight..."Xavier licked his lips.
Terrence said nothing, but stepped forward one paw pressing firm against mine as if staking a claim, but worst of all? Zavier stood last in line, youngest of them all, young Alpha of Silver Storm, with storm-silver eyes fixed on me... Not hunger there, but recognition?
"Mine." He breathed without sound.
I pushed everyone out as the door clicked shut behind me. I was finally alone, or so I thought. I curl into the darkest corner, arms wrapped tight around my knees, silver fur matted with sweat and the lingering sting of that tea. My skin hums. The crescent mark on my hip pulses like a second heartbeat, warm, insistent. All I want is a nest: soft furs, hidden away from prying eyes and hungrier mouths. A den small enough to guard… safe enough to break in private. Suddenly, I smelled jasmine. The door opened without sound. Selene walked in again.
"Still hiding?" She murmured, tilting her head like I'm some fragile thing about to shatter. "What do you want, little wolf? Tell me."
I don't trust her voice, but the heat coils tighter inside me now, low and deep, begging for relief even as I snarl through it.
"A nest." My voice cracked. "Not… this. Not stone walls. Not royal chambers with high ceilings that echo every gasp. Something small. Warm. Mine."
She smiled slowly and stepped aside. With a flick of her wrist, the doors burst open wide, and servants enter carrying silks dyed midnight blue. And behind them?
It rolls in on golden wheels a bed. Huge doesn't even come close, it's monstrous! Wide enough for five alphas, piled high with pillows, draped in chains not of iron but pearl threaded silk meant to be broken. At its center, a hollow lined with heated stones, pulsing gently like an ember heart, designed exactly for an omega going into heat.
"This." Selene said sweetly. "Is your new nest."
My jaw dropped.
"That's not what I said, what I meant, a nest! A burrow! A crate would've been better than… this!"I shouted. "This isn't safety, it's an altar!"
She turned at the door, long hair catching moonlight.
"You asked for warmth." She whispered back, smiling over one shoulder. "You'll have more than you can bear soon enough."
The bed is made from the dreams of kings, and I'm sinking into it like it was meant for me. I knew that it was a trap, but I needed it too much. The pillows wrap me tight, soft yet firm against my back as I arch into them. Furs brush against my legs like a lover's touch, and when silk drifts around me pearl threads twinkling under the moon, I swear it's the caress of fingers wanting to hold me still. My body trembles under that touch. I can't think. It's a drug, and I want more.
"Too soft."My wolf muttered.
"I know it's too good."I muttered.
The door groans open without a knock. First, Adrian all shadow and smirk, amber gold eyes glowing like embers in the dark. He breathes deep at the threshold, chest expanding.
"Honey and fire." He purred. "Our little saint is already dripping for us."
Xavier steps in next, wild chestnut hair tousled as if by wind only he can feel. His fingers trail along the edge of the pearl chain silk.
"You broke the tray." He murmured, crouching beside me. "But your scent didn't lie… you wanted it."
His nose brushes my neck, one slow drag and I shiver violently.
"And now? Now you're begging without words."He whispered.
Terrence follows like thunder behind stormlight, his heavy paws pressing into the rugs as if claiming ground. No flourish, no tease, just dominance in silence as he looms over me, gray eyes pinning mine like prey caught beneath snowfall. Then… him. Zavier. Silver haired ghost of my nightmares. He doesn't speak. He doesn't have to. His storm-silver eyes lock onto mine with that quiet certainty that scrapes against my soul. Recognition... claim... kinship? No, it's a dangerous thought.
"Get out!" I snarl weakly, but even I hear how broken it sounds beneath panting breaths and rising heat pulsing from my core like waves crashing against a crumbling shore.
Adrian laughs low the sound vibrating through bones older than kingship as Xavier begins untying his cuffs with deliberate slowness.
"You're not ours yet." Adrian whispers near my ear before pulling back just enough to grin. "But soon?"
Terrence growls once deep throaty rumble and places one clawed hand on either side of me on this monstrous bed that swallows more than space, it swallows dignity, choice and freedom. And Zavier? He steps forward last… slowly… Pulls back silken strands from where they stick to sweat-slick skin at my temple Then bends down until his lips graze not mine but just below.
"Mine."He whispered.
The bed isn't an altar anymore... It's a throne built by Moon Godness herself, and they've come not to save me...but to break me.