Chapter 81: Time Flies
Chapter 81: Time Flies
Nelly
The air is thick with the scent of rain, a promise of a storm that mirrors the tempest in my heart. It’s been a decade since the war ended, since the darkness that once threatened to consume us all finally receded. Now, the world is different—quieter, more harmonious. Humans, Dark Ones, and supernaturals coexist in a fragile balance, and I find myself reflecting on how far we’ve come. My two oldest children, Alexis and Christian, are adults now, their lives stretching before them like an unwritten book. They each will soon find their mate, or perhaps mates, as the world has grown more accepting of the polyamorous bonds that define our family. I can only hope their eternities are as fulfilling as mine has been.
I stand at the window of our sprawling California estate, my fingers brushing against the cool glass. The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the garden, where Vincent, Quinn, and Alec are gathered, their laughter carrying through the open window. They’re planning something—I can feel it in the way their energy hums, a familiar buzz that makes my heart race. Even after all these years, the bond between us hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown stronger, more intricate, like roots intertwining deep beneath the earth.
Vincent’s voice rises above the others, his tone laced with that familiar sarcasm that masks his deep affection. “Nelly’s going to kill us if we track mud through the house again,” he says, his green eyes glinting with mischief. Quinn snorts, his werewolf vitality clashing with his vampiric pallor as he leans against the oak tree, arms crossed. “She’ll just clean it up with her super-speed,” he retorts, his smirk as sly as ever. Alec, ever the peacemaker, steps between them, his ice-blue eyes scanning the horizon. “Perhaps we should take this discussion inside,” he suggests, his voice smooth and measured. “Before the storm breaks.”
I turn from the window, my leather outfit hugging my curves as I move toward the door. The serum I had scientists create has kept me from getting pregnant again, but it hasn’t dampened our appetites. If anything, our sexual hunger has become more refined, more frequent. Vincent, Quinn, and Alec are insatiable, and I’m more than willing to satisfy them. Our days—and nights—are a blur of touch, taste, and pleasure, a constant reminder of the bond that holds us together.
As I step onto the porch, the cool night air brushes against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Vincent’s gaze locks onto me, his expression softening as he takes in my approach. “There she is,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. Quinn pushes off the tree, his movements fluid and predatory, while Alec’s eyes darken with a hunger that’s both ancient and familiar.
“What are you three plotting?” I ask, my tone light, though my pulse quickens at the way they surround me, their bodies close but not yet touching. Vincent’s hand brushes my waist, his touch electric even through the leather. “Nothing you wouldn’t approve of,” he replies, his lips curling into a smirk. Quinn’s fingers trail up my arm, his touch teasing, while Alec’s gaze holds mine, his expression intense.
“We were just discussing how much we’ve missed you,” Alec says, his voice a whisper that sends a thrill through me. “It’s been hours since we’ve had you to ourselves.”
Hours. It feels like an eternity. My lips curve into a smile as I step closer, my body pressing against theirs. “Well,” I purr, “I’m all yours.”
Vincent’s hand slides up my back, his touch possessive, while Quinn’s lips brush my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Good,” he murmurs, “because we have plans for you.”
Alec’s fingers tangle in my hair, his touch gentle yet firm as he pulls me closer. “Plans that involve a lot of touching,” he adds, his voice laced with promise.