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The thought should have shocked me, should have made me protest. Instead, I felt a rush of liquid heat between my thighs and a shameless whimper escaped me.

We moved deeper into the forest, following a path I couldn't see but that Callum navigated with confidence. The trees grew denser, older, their massive trunks covered in luminous moss that gave off a soft blue-green light. The air grew thicker, charged with magic that made my skin tingle.

"Where are we going?" I managed to ask between waves of fever.

"My private glade," Callum answered, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch. "It's a sanctuary within the Fae realm that's accessible only to me and those I choose to share it with." His eyes met mine, intense and possessive. "Now that I've found my fated mate, it will open for you and for our other mates."

I should have bristled at the possessiveness in his tone, the assumption that I was already his. But the part of me thatwas caught in this heat, the omega, the witch, whatever I was becoming, purred with satisfaction at his words.

The forest suddenly opened up, revealing a clearing bathed in dappled sunlight. At its center stood... not quite a building, but not merely a natural formation either. It was as though the forest itself had grown into a home. Walls were formed by living trees that had twined and curved together, their branches creating a canopy overhead that was both ceiling and sky.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, momentarily distracted from my need.

"It's yours now, too," Callum replied, carrying me toward an arched entrance that seemed to widen as we approached, the living wood parting like water to let us through.

Inside, the space opened up into a chamber that defied the exterior dimensions. Gauzy fabric draped from the living ceiling, catching the light that filtered through the leaves overhead. The floor was covered in soft moss that cushioned Callum's steps. Natural pools steamed in one corner, fed by a spring that bubbled up from underground.

And dominating the space was a massive bed—a platform of smooth wood that seemed to have grown naturally from the floor, its surface covered in furs and silks. The four posts rose up like trees, intricately carved with vines and flowers. The headboard was even more elaborate—a twisting mass of wooden vines complete with delicate leaves and loops.

Loops that looked perfect for binding wrists.

The thought should have alarmed me. Instead, I felt a throb of desire so intense it made me cry out.

Callum laid me down on the bed with surprising gentleness, given the barely leashed hunger I could feel through our growing bond. The soft furs caressed my overheated skin, and I arched into the sensation.

"Please," I gasped, reaching for him, beyond shame, beyond pride. "I need?—"

"We're here."

Rowen's voice drew my attention to the entrance, where he and Archer now stood, watching us with identical expressions of raw hunger. They crossed to the bed, moving with the coordinated grace of predators.

As they approached, the full reality of what was happening hit me. Here I was, surrounded by three supernatural men who all claimed to be my mates, who all looked at me like they wanted to devour me whole. Men I barely knew, in a realm that wasn't my own.

"Wait," I said, struggling to sit up, to clear my head. "I don't—I need to think?—"

But thinking was becoming harder by the second. The proximity of all three of them at once was overwhelming. Their scents mingled in the air—Callum's forest and night, Rowen's spiced mahogany, Archer's ocean breeze—creating an intoxicating mix that made my head spin.

A sudden realization cut through my haze. "I haven't seen any spirits," I said, the observation random even to my own ears. "Since I left the human realm, I haven't seen a single ghost."

The three men exchanged glances, and Rowen moved to sit beside me on the bed. His weight dipping the mattress sent a cascade of sensations across my hypersensitive skin.

"I've been helping you block your abilities," he explained, his deep voice oddly soothing despite the fire it stoked in my blood. "With the exception of when we were inbetween. I did it to help you acclimate to the different environments."

"Block them?" I repeated, trying to focus on his words rather than the way his hand rested so close to my thigh.

Rowen nodded. "Supernatural spirits are different from human ones. They can be dangerous if a necromancer doesn'tknow how to deal with them properly. I've been... filtering them for you, until you're ready."

"But—"

My protest was cut short as Callum leaned over me, his face mere inches from mine. "Don't worry about that now," he murmured, his breath warm against my lips. "We have more pressing concerns."

Before I could respond, his mouth claimed mine in a kiss that was both question and answer. His lips were soft but demanding, coaxing mine apart with practiced ease. The moment his tongue swept into my mouth, the heat that had been simmering in my core flared into an inferno.

I moaned against his lips, my hands flying up to tangle in his hair. He tasted like wild honey and something ancient, something that spoke to a part of me I was only beginning to understand. The bond between us expanded, brightened, sending waves of pleasure through me that had nothing to do with physical touch.

Through half-lidded eyes, I saw Archer and Rowen watching us, their expressions hungry, approving. Rather than feeling self-conscious, I felt... powerful. Wanted. Needed.

Callum broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my jaw, my throat, pausing at the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. His teeth scraped lightly over my skin, and I shuddered, knowing instinctively what he wanted—what all of them would eventually want.