Chapter 49 49
\[Rhea’s POV\]
I woke up slowly.
The first thing I felt was pain. Deep, throbbing pain that started between my legs and spread through my whole body. My core and thighs ached like I was still full of them.
I tried to move but a sharp pain shot through me and I hissed.
Lucien's heavy arm lay across my stomach, his hand resting near my thigh. Damian was pressed against my other side, his face buried in my neck. His breath was hot on my skin.
The room smelled thick with sex. Musky and heavy.
I groaned and tried to push Lucien's arm away.
"Don't move," Lucien's voice rumbled. His eyes were still closed, but his grip tightened, pulling me closer. "You're staying right here."
"I'm sore," I whispered.
Damian stirred then. He lifted his head from my neck, and leaned over me, his dark hair messy and his eyes filled with a predatory hunger that hadn't faded. He looked down at my still naked body.
"You're sore because we marked you," Damian said, his voice deep and rough. He didn't sound sorry. He sounded proud. He reached down and ran a hand over my hip, his thumb pressing into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I flinched, the soreness still there, but he didn't pull away. "Get used to it, Rhea. This is how it's going to be from now on."
Something had changed in them. Yesterday they were just protective. Today they were almost possessive. It was like the mating had flipped a switch.
"I need to wash up," I said, pushing his hand away. "I feel sticky and gross."
"You feel like us," Lucien said, opening his eyes. Those silver eyes locked onto me with intensity. He sat up and the sheet fell away from his bare chest. He watched me struggle for a moment, then grabbed my jaw. "You're not gross. You're perfect."
He leaned in and kissed me hard. It was demanding, his tongue pushing into my mouth as if he were taking territory. I could help feeling a spark of heat despite the pain in my core. When he finally pulled back, he looked at Damian.
"She wants a shower," Lucien said.
Damian didn't wait and stood up, his tall, naked frame casting a shadow over the bed. He reached down and scooped me up.
I let out a cry of surprise, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. The movement made my core throb again, and I winced.
"I can walk, Damian. Really," I said, my face heating up.
"I don't care," Damian muttered.
He carried me to the bathroom and Lucien followed.
The bathroom was large, with grey stone tiles and a massive glass shower. Damian set me down on the edge of the marble counter, but he didn't let go of my waist. He stood between my legs, his heat making me dizzy.
Lucien turned on the shower and steam filled the room. He walked over and ran his finger over the dark bruise on my collarbone, his eyes darkening.
"We might have been a bit too rough last night."
"It's okay. I like it. You can go now." I said, feeling a bit overwhelmed by how they were hovering.
They ignored my protest and led me into the shower. The warm water felt amazing on my aching muscles.
But they didn't give me space and were both there with me.
Damian grabbed soap and started washing me. His hands roamed everywhere. When he reached between my legs, I gasped and tried to close my thighs.
"Stop, I'm still sore."
He ignored me and pushed his fingers between my thighs, rubbing the soap into my skin with a pressure that was borderline too much. "You're sensitive because you're full of us, Rhea. It's a good pain. Don't fight it."
Lucien's hands were on my shoulders, his chest pressing against my back. He leaned down and bit my earlobe, his teeth grazing the skin. "We want more," he whispered. "Even now, seeing you like this... I want to put you against this wall and fuck you again."
I shivered. Fear and excitement mixed together. "I can't. Like I said, I'm too sore."
"We'll see," Lucien said, his hand sliding down to cup my breast. He squeezed it firmly, making me moan.
They spent a long time in the shower, washing me at a slow, possessive pace. They were acting like they couldn't get enough of my skin, like they were trying to memorize every curve.
Finally, after a while they let me out. Damian dried me off with a towel, while Lucien went to the bedroom and came back with clothes. He handed me a pair of black leggings and one of his own thick, grey hoodies.
"Put these on," he said.
I pulled the hoodie over my head. It was huge. The sleeves covered my hands, and the hem reached my mid-thighs. It smelled strongly of Lucien and I liked it.
We went downstairs. My legs were still shaky.
In the kitchen, Lucien pointed to a chair. "Sit."
Damian started to move around the kitchen, pulling out eggs and a frying pan.
"We're going to make you breakfast," Damian said, glancing over his shoulder. "You need to eat. You lost a lot of energy last night."
"I can help," I offered, starting to stand up.
"Sit down, Rhea," Lucien said, his voice firm. He sat across from me, his eyes never leaving my face. "You've done enough. Just stay there and look pretty."
I felt a flash of annoyance, but I didn't argue. I watched Damian crack eggs into the pan. The sound of the sizzling butter was the only thing filling the room. For a moment, it felt almost normal but then….
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound was sharp and loud, echoing through the house.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat, and then starting to hammer against my ribs. My
Mark. It had to be Mark.
Fear instantly flooded me.
Damian's hand froze on the pan. His knuckles turned white. Lucien stood slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Is it him?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Lucien didn't answer and moved toward the door, Damian following behind him.
I stayed in my chair for a second, my mind racing, thinking of everything. Then something hot rose inside me. Anger.
I remembered the forest. The hunters. The basement.
I wasn't weak anymore.
If Mark was at that door, I wasn't hiding.
I stood and walked to the foyer, my steps were confident despite my fear.
"Get back, Rhea," Lucien warned.
"No."
I pushed past him. Nyra growled in my mind, ready to fight. I was ready to tear the throat of anyone who tried to take me away from this house.
I grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, my hands curling into fists.
It wasn't Mark.
He was a young man, maybe a few years older than me. He had messy blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a simple denim jacket and jeans.
He looked at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a friendly smile.
"Hi, I'm Noah.”