Chapter 79
Asher
The shower is already running when I carry Kara into the bathroom. Steam rises, fogging the glass walls. Blake and Cole crowd in behind us—three wolves circling our mate, unable to leave her even for a moment.
I set Kara down under the spray. Warm water cascades over her shoulders, soaking the towel still wrapped around her trembling body.
"Let it go," I murmur against her ear. "Let us see you."
Her hands shake as she unwraps the towel. Lets it fall to the wet tile.
And then she's standing there. Naked. Golden skin glistening. Curls plastered to her shoulders. Brown eyes wide and uncertain but—God—so trusting.
"Fuck." Blake's voice is guttural behind me. "Look at her."
"Perfect." Cole's mint scent spikes—sweet and almost drugging now. "Every curve. Every inch."
I reach for body wash. Lather my hands. Force myself to move slowly even though my wolf is screaming to take, claim, mark.
"Turn around, Kara. Let me wash your back."
She obeys. I slide my soapy hands across her shoulders. Down her spine. Gentle but possessive—letting my scent mix with hers, layering claim after claim into her skin.
Behind me, Blake groans. "Asher. Let me—"
"Wait your turn." My voice comes out harsher than intended. "We do this carefully. No rushing."
But Blake can't resist. He presses against Kara's front—still clothed in swim trunks that do nothing to hide his massive erection. His hands find her waist, thumbs stroking her hipbones in slow circles.
"Blake—" Cole warns from where he's braced against the glass wall, visibly fighting for control.
"I'm not doing anything." Blake's lips graze Kara's temple. "Just—holding her. Making sure she doesn't slip."
Except his thumbs keep stroking. Tracing patterns that make Kara's breath hitch and her scent spike with fresh arousal.
Through the mind link: "This is torture. I can see her pussy from here. See how wet she is. And it's not just water—"
"Control yourself," I snap back at Cole. "We all want her. But we do this right."
My hands slide lower—over the curve of Kara's ass, down her thighs. Clinical touches. Except there's nothing clinical about the way my wolf howls with satisfaction every time she shivers under my palms.
When my fingers brush the crease where her thighs meet—when I feel the unmistakable slickness there—I freeze.
"Kara." My voice drops an octave. "You're—"
"I know." She can barely speak. "It won't stop. Ever since the pool, I—I can't—"
"It's the Heat." Cole moves closer, cool mint wrapping around us both. "Your body is preparing. Making you ready for us."
Blake's hands tighten on her waist. His gold eyes meet mine over her shoulder. Through the link: "Asher. We need to move faster. Her scent—if it gets any stronger, I won't be able to—"
"You will," I command. "Because the alternative is hurting her. And we will never do that again."
Out loud, I ask Kara: "Are you in pain?"
She bites her lip. Nods.
"Where?"
Her hand drifts down—presses against her lower abdomen.
"Inside?" Cole asks gently. "Like you're empty?"
Another nod.
"Like you need to be filled?" Blake's voice is pure gravel.
"Yes." The word comes out as a whimper that nearly breaks my control.
I curse under my breath. Spin Kara to face me. Water streams between us as I rinse the soap from her body with efficient hands.
"Blake. You're next. Wash her front. But do not—" I pin him with my Alpha stare. "Do not touch her between her legs. Understood?"
He swallows hard. Nods.
Blake takes over with barely-there touches that somehow ignite every nerve ending. When his soapy hands cup Kara's breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples, she gasps and sags against him.
"Steady." His lips brush her ear. "I've got you, Princess. Always."
Cole is the last. He kneels in the spray and washes her legs—long, slow strokes from ankle to thigh. When he reaches the apex of her legs, he pauses.
"May I?" His mint-green eyes meet hers. "Just to clean. I promise."
Kara nods, unable to speak.
Cole's touch is feather-light. Clinical. But when his fingers brush her clit—just for a second—Kara jerks and moans.
"Cole." My warning is sharp.
"Sorry." But his pupils are blown wide. Feral. Through the link: "She's so sensitive. So swollen. Asher, she's dripping—"
"Out." I snap. "All of us. Before I lose control and take her right here on the tile."
Blake shuts off the water. Cole grabs towels. And within seconds, we're drying Kara with gentle, reverent touches—three sets of hands moving over her skin like she's something precious.
Sacred.
Through the link, Blake sends: "I can't believe she's ours. After everything we did—"
"She forgave us," Cole responds. "She chose us."
"Then we make sure she never regrets it," I finish.
Out loud, I tell Kara: "Go to the bedroom. Lie down. We'll be right there."
She hesitates. "What are you—"
"Planning," I say simply. "Trust us?"
Her brown eyes search mine. Then she nods and pads toward the bedroom, wrapped in a towel.
The moment she's out of earshot, Blake slumps against the wall. "Fuck. Asher, I almost—in the shower, when she moaned—I wanted to bend her over right there and—"
"I know." I grip his shoulder. Hard. "But you didn't. That's what matters."
"What's the plan?" Cole asks. He's breathing hard, hands shaking. "Because if we don't mark her soon, she's going to be in agony."
I take a breath. Force my strategic mind to override my wolf's demands.
"Here's what we do. We make her come again. Buy her body more time to adjust. Then we teach her how to pleasure us—let her feel powerful, in control. And then—" I meet both their eyes. "Cole goes first. Takes her virginity. Gently."
Cole's eyes widen. "Asher—"
"Then Blake. Fast and rough, the way you need it. Get the aggression out."
Blake nods jerkily.
"And I'll go last. Teach her to ride. To take control. And when she's ready—when she's on the edge—we mark her. All at once. Synchronized."
Through the link, I feel their agreement. Their determination.
And their terror that we might still somehow fuck this up.
"We won't," I send to them both. "Because she's not just our mate. She's our salvation. And we will spend the rest of our lives proving we deserve her."
Together, we walk back into the bedroom.
Where Kara is sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a towel, looking terrified and brave and so fucking beautiful it physically hurts.
"Come here," I say softly. "Lie down in the center of the bed. Let us worship you the way you deserve."
She obeys. Slowly. The towel falls away as she stretches out on white sheets—golden skin against white linen, dark curls fanning around her head like a halo.
And I think:
This is it. The moment we stop being her tormentors and become her protectors.
The moment the girl who froze in the snow finally gets to be warm.
Forever.
"Spread your legs for us, Kara," I command gently. "Let us see what's ours."
Her breath catches.
But she opens her thighs.
And we descend on our Luna like the wolves we are—hungry, desperate, and finally, finally home.