This was the first ti Lethia had ever seen Zeran asleep. Deeply.
She even lifted her head a few tis, testing if the arm he used as her pillow had gone numb under her cheek.
Yet every ti she moved, Zeran instinctively pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tighter in his sleep.
She thought he’d wake up, open his eyes—but no. He stayed asleep, peacefully, not even a faint snore.
Every ti the tip of her nose brushed against his firm chest as he drew her close, Lethia couldn’t help wondering, did his body crave her even in his dreams?
Her stomach churned, overwheld by feelings she hadn’t known she could feel. It would be greedy to assu this was love. But... was it wrong to feel this safe, this warm?
Her thighs pressed together, trembling—sothing throbbed between them.
She still rembered how her body had buckled in the bathroom earlier, how her limbs had gone weak just from Zeran rubbing his veiny shaft between her thighs.
She had kept rolling her hips, desperate for him to slip inside her slick entrance—but Zeran... damn him, he’d been too good at controlling himself.
Why... Just why?
If only she had t Zeran first—hadn’t been possessed by Whisney, hadn’t gotten tangled up with Renar and Caelum—maybe her feelings wouldn’t be this conflicted now.
How could she even tell Zeran that she had to share her body with all three of them? No, it wasn’t just about Zeran.
It would’ve been easier if the three of them were her fated mates. But wait... in Ashenhold, many she-wolves and lycans had more than one mate, didn’t they?
So her plan—her desperate, reckless plan—was to make them all agree to beco her official mates. Even Renar and Caelum shared a faint bond with her pup.
And since the three of them were milk brothers, it shouldn’t matter to share her, right? Right?
Lethia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away those lewd thoughts.
Even without the pup’s bond, without her primal urges, without the lust stirred by three powerful lycans... what did she truly feel for them?
Flashes of mory crossed her mind—the way the three of them had been so protective, so gentle, so completely undone because of her.
Why did those feelings feel so familiar?
It was as if she was experiencing them for the first ti, and yet not at all. As if the three of them were born, created, solely for her. For Lethia’s happiness alone.
She shook her head. Of course, she would feel that way.
The three of them were the ideal mates any she-wolf could dream of.
That must be why her heart fluttered and why she drowned in their pampering.
If they had t under normal circumstances—t, introduced, grown close, dated—if Lethia had known them as their true selves, would she have let herself be kissed, touched, cuddled, played with fire like this?
She couldn’t answer that.
She kept looping back to the sa question—was it love?
Lethia closed her eyes, pressing her face against the center of Zeran’s collarbone. She inhaled deeply.
Zeran’s musky scent—soap mixed with a faint hint of sea salt—filled her senses. She wanted to separate those scents, to single out only Zeran’s. And she did.
Because the mont she took her deepest breath, all she could sll was him.
And she liked it.
She wanted to drown in it.
His scent cald her, hypnotised her, like standing on a beach with a gentle sea breeze brushing her face, fresh, soothing, washing away every unrest in her heart.
It felt like the world belonged only to them. And she wished it could stay that way.
***
The next morning, Lethia opened her eyes and found the space beside her empty.
Yet when her palm reached for it, Zeran’s warmth still lingered.
She buried her face in his pillow and inhaled it. Her stomach fluttered—like a swarm of butterflies dancing inside.
Why did she feel so obsessed with his scent? Was it because of the pup? Or had she caught Zeran’s perverted habit?
She puffed her cheeks, trying not to smile too widely as her hand caressed her belly.
’Did you see the butterflies in mommy’s tummy? Sorry if it feels a bit cramped. Bla your dad!’
A soft giggle escaped her, like a teenager in love.
She glanced at the window, the sky still faintly blue, the colour of dawn. She looked around for a clock but saw none.
Then, a savoury, salty aroma wafted into her nose, making her decide to get out of bed at once.
When she opened the door, the sll grew stronger. The sound of running water and clinking dishes guided her straight to the kitchen.
The smile on her lips spread wide the mont she caught sight of Zeran’s back. He was standing in front of the stove.
She tiptoed toward him, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but—
"It’s still dawn. Why are you up so early?" Zeran’s voice made the beam on her lips fade instantly.
Her shoulders slumped as she trudged closer and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Her cheek t the warmth of his back, and she closed her eyes.
"You should at least pretend to be surprised when I back hug you. You’re no fun."
"Should I redo it then?" he murmured, his palm brushing over hers.
Lethia shook her head and peeked at what kept him busy so early in the morning.
"What are you making?"
"The reason why we are here."
As she peeked, her gaze caught a glass box like an aquarium, holding four purple sea urchins inside. Her eyes lit up.
"Whoa... that’s it! I can’t believe it. Did you really catch them yourself?"
"Hm." Zeran humd while stirring the porridge. "You see—ah, it’s gone already."
He showed his right hand. "It would’ve been perfect proof if it didn’t heal so fast."
Lethia took his hand, examining it closely.
"Which part got pricked by the sea urchin?" she asked, studying it with a serious look.
Zeran chuckled. "At tis like this, it’s better not to have healing power, I guess. What would you do if it left a mark?"
"I’d do this."
She blew gently across his palm.
"And this."
She planted soft pecks over it.
"And—"
Zeran pulled his hand away and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"It’s morning already. Please restrain yourself," he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Slap!
A sharp smack landed on his shoulder.
"Ow..."
"Ow? I should’ve slapped you with a sea urchin shell, then licked it clean till the mark disappeared. Let’s see if you’d still dare give just a forehead kiss after that. I will—"
His lips brushed hers, soft and lingering, just long enough for a smile to bloom between them.
"You should’ve returned that forehead kiss with a proper one. Why use your palm?"
They both giggled, teasing each other as Zeran turned off the stove—the porridge was finally done.
The chilly dawn air lted into warmth in that kitchen, until...
"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but you need to take this call now." Derreck stood at the doorway, his expression grim, holding out a phone Zeran had to take.
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