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“A mate—oh!”

His knot locks, and his teeth nip my throat over his claiming mark.

“Good girl, you can take it,” he purrs against my throat. “You will need to. By all accounts, Gideon’s hung like a fucking centaur.”

I gasp and giggle.

He chuckles and nips my throat. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re a bad girl.”

He’s right, I really am.

Wolf leaves. Seven arrives with Gideon as if summoned when I sit down to eat breakfast at the table on the balcony. So I eat breakfast while sitting on Seven’s lap. Then he eats me.

Everyone is happy.

Well, maybe not Gideon, who stands attentively beside the balcony doors the whole time.

Then, Seven heads off to his duties, and I decide to read more of my book.

Gideon groans as though in pain when he notices the book in my hand. He looks away with a massive bulge in his pants.

Smiling to myself, I settle on the couch.

Am I being mean?

Maybe.

He is still very formal and proper despite rutting me silly on the grassy bank beside the lake. I would feel much better about this if I could use his lap as a pillow, but I might have to build him up to that. Also, he is very gullible for my poor acting. I’m confident I can sabotage his good intentions soon enough.

The story is very compelling. The doe shifter is a complete hussy, and I already love her well. I believe I can pick up some tips on managing many men.

…you have wagged your cute little tail at my men in an invitation to rut. We have no choice now. You will have to take them all.

My eyes widen. “What? No!”

“Are you well, my lady?” Gideon asks.

I had forgotten he was there.

“Shh!” I hold up a hand. He instantly falls silent… he really is surprisingly good at following instructions. I’m confident Wolf would have turned me over his lap for taking such a sharp tone.

Gods! Itisan invitation to rut when my doe wags her tail, at least according to this passage. Then again, it’s just a book—a romance story—which, as Estelle has pointed out, is not always based on sound facts.

Only it sounds true.

A lot of things begin to make sense.

How could I not have known?

My doe knows. She did it on purpose. And for Wolf.

My face is burning hot. I keep reading the same passage, hoping the words will rearrange into something more palatable.

“It can’t be true,” I blurt out.

“What can’t be true, little doe?”

I jump, hearing Nox’s rumbly voice right beside me, and butterflies begin to swarm in my belly. Where did he come from? How did I not notice his approach?