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WHITLOCK brOTHERS

Z ane Whitlock was not a wolf who paced. Three centuries of careful control had taught him better. And yet here he was, wearing a path in his office carpet while his wolf clawed at his chest, demanding he go upstairs and claim what was his.

Their little bat. Their Luca. Their?—

“If you’re going to brood, could you do it sitting down?” Archer was sprawled across Zane’s leather couch. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Right.” Ryker didn’t look up from where he was methodically destroying a crystal tumbler with his lightning. “And I’m not about to short-circuit half of New Vale’s power grid.”

The lights flickered ominously, as if to punctuate his point.

“Both of you, out.” Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to think.”

“About Luca?” Archer’s grin was sharp. “About how he tastes like moonlight and cherry blossoms? Or about how perfectly he fit against?—”

A growl ripped from Zane’s throat before he could stop it. His wolf surged forward, eyes bleeding silver as he advanced on his youngest brother. “Careful.”

“Or what?” Archer sat up, citrus-sunshine scent darkening with challenge. “You’ll forbid me from thinking about it? Good luck with that. I can still feel him in my lap, the way he gasped when I?—”

Lightning crackled between them as Ryker finally looked up. “Both of you, enough. This isn’t helping.”

“Nothing’s helping,” Archer flopped back down dramatically. “I’m going to die. Right here. On this very expensive leather couch. Cause of death: sexual frustration and overwhelming guilt.”

“You’re not going to die.” But Zane’s voice was rough. He could still taste Luca on his tongue—moonlight and spring nights and something addictively sweet. Still feel the boy pressed against him, soft and willing and perfect…

The crystal in Ryker’s hand finally shattered.

“That’s coming out of your trust fund,” Zane said automatically, though his heart wasn’t in the reprimand. Not when Luca’s scent still clung to his clothes, making his wolf pace and growl.

“Add it to my tab.” Ryker’s storm-blue eyes flickered with lightning. “Right under ‘therapy needed after tasting our brother against a car.’”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Archer’s laugh held an edge of hysteria. “Because from where I was sitting—quite comfortably, with Luca in my lap during that drive home?—”

“Finish that sentence,” Zane growled, “and I’ll throw you off the balcony.”

“You’d have to catch me first,” Archer said. “And besides, we all felt what happened through the bond tonight. The car, the drive home, that wall scene… Very alpha of you, by the way.”

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Zane’s power leaked out. Frost crackled across his desk.

“Children,” Ryker drawled, though his own power sparked dangerously. “Perhaps we could focus on the actual problem? Like how our shy, sweet brother suddenly turned into…” He waved his hand vaguely.

“A devastating creature hell-bent on destroying three centuries of carefully cultivated control?” Zane supplied dryly.

“Sex on legs?” Archer offered at the same time.

Both older brothers turned to glare at him.

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” Archer held up his hands. “And don’t give me that look. We all felt everything through the bond. That whole ‘we must resist’ speech isn’t really working anymore, is it?”

“Felt everything.” Ryker’s voice was rough. “Through the bond. Every possessive touch, every growl, every…” Lightning crackled along his arms. “Gods above, the way he responded to all of us…”

“Like I didn’t feel what you both did.” Zane’s eyes flashed silver. “Every kiss, every touch. The way he tasted your blood, Ryker. The sounds he made in your lap, Archer.”

Their pack bond hummed with shared memories—Luca’s breathless gasps, the sweet taste of his mouth, the way he’d arched into their touches. The temperature in the room fluctuated wildly between Zane’s frost and Ryker’s lightning as their powers leaked out.

“This is insane.” Archer ran his hands through his hair. “He’s our brother.”

“Adopted,” all three said simultaneously, then exchanged guilty looks.

“That doesn’t make it better,” Zane growled, though his wolf disagreed vehemently. “We’re supposed to protect him, not…”

“Pin him against walls?” Archer suggested helpfully. “Let him bite us? Get drunk on his kisses?”

“I will end you.”

“You’ll try.” Archer smirked. “Look, something’s different about him. You’ve felt it too. The way he affects us, how our powers respond to him. Even our wolves…”

“Are completely obsessed,” Ryker finished. “It’s not normal. None of this is normal.”

Zane braced his hands on his desk, trying to center himself. But Luca’s scent still clung to him—moonlight and cherry blossoms and something addictively sweet that made his wolf howl.

“We need answers,” he said, glancing at the antique clock on his desk. “But not tonight. Get some sleep. We’ll talk to Great Uncle Johnathan in the morning.”

“Sleep?” Archer laughed hollowly. “Right. Because that’s totally possible when I can still taste him on my tongue. Still feel him?—”

“Don’t.” Ryker’s voice crackled with warning. “Not unless you want me to short-circuit the entire building.”

They all felt it through the bond—the desperate need to go up to Luca’s wing, to check on him, to make sure he was safe. Their wolves were practically clawing at their chests, demanding they protect, claim, possess.

“Back to your wings,” Zane ordered, his alpha voice brooking no argument. “Now. Before we do something unforgivable.”

“Too late for that,” Archer muttered, but he pushed himself off the couch. “Fine. But if I die from sexual frustration tonight, I’m haunting both of you.”

“Add it to your list of dramatic deaths.” Ryker headed for the door, though his power still sparked dangerously. “Right after ‘death by overwhelming guilt’ and ‘death by inappropriate brother feelings.’”

They separated, each to their private wing of the penthouse.

But sleep proved elusive. Every time Zane closed his eyes, he saw Luca—flushed and wanting, pressed against his wall.

Through their bond, he felt his brothers’ similar torment.

Archer tossing restlessly, Ryker’s power crackling through the building’s electrical system.

The grandfather clock in Zane’s room chimed three times, each dong echoing through the silent penthouse.

His wolf was too restless, pacing and growling, demanding they check on Luca.

The pack bond hummed with similar agitation from his brothers—Archer’s usual playful energy turned sharp with need, Ryker’s power making the building’s electricity fluctuate.

Then he caught it. A scent so sweet, so devastatingly potent it made his wolf rear up with a howl.

Moonlight and cherry blossoms, but different now. Heated. Desperate. Like spring nights and forbidden promises and pure, undiluted want.

Anyone else suddenly feeling like they’re in heat? Archer’s mental voice was strained through their bond. Because I’m pretty sure I’m not the one producing these pheromones.

Shut up, Archer. Ryker’s response crackled with electricity. Just… don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t ? —

Too late. Already breathing. Already dying. Tell my anime collection I loved it.

If you don’t stop being dramatic, Zane growled through the bond, I’ll come over there and end you myself.

Kinky. But I’d rather you didn’t. Pretty sure if any of us leave our wings right now, we’re going straight up to ? —

DON’T. Both older brothers cut him off.

As four a.m. approached, the scent grew stronger.

Zane’s claws dug into his mattress, shredding expensive sheets.

His wolf was going mad, demanding they go upstairs, claim what was theirs.

Each breath brought more of that intoxicating sweetness—Luca’s natural scent but amplified, heated, calling to something primal in him.

This isn’t just desire, Ryker’s mental voice was rough. Something’s happening to him. Something…

Hot? Devastating? Literally killing me? Archer had shifted, his wolf unable to maintain human form. Because yes to all of the above.

Focus, Zane commanded, though his own control was slipping. We need to ? —

A wave of pure need hit them through the air, making all three wolves howl in response. The clock struck four thirty, each chime accompanied by a surge in Luca’s scent.

Oh gods, Archer whined. He smells like… like…

Like ours, Ryker finished, his lightning now visible through the penthouse windows. Like he’s meant to be ? —

ENOUGH. Frost covered every surface in Zane’s room as his power leaked out. We are not having this conversation. We are not going to Luca. We are not ? —

Going to survive this night? Archer suggested. Because I’m pretty sure I’m actually dying this time. Not like those other times I said I was dying. This is it. The real deal. Death by vampire prince pheromones.

If you don’t shut up, Ryker growled, I’ll help you achieve that death.

By five a.m., the situation had become unbearable. Luca’s scent had turned fever-hot, carrying notes of need that made their wolves thrash against their chains.

Underground, Zane commanded through the bond. Now. Before I destroy the entire penthouse.

Oh, thank gods, Archer’s wolf whined. I’ve already shredded everything in my room. Twice.

The electrical grid is about to collapse anyway, Ryker added, his voice crackling with barely contained power.

They converged on the private elevator that connected the penthouse directly to the underground facility.

Even in their agitated state, the familiar presence of pack helped ground them somewhat.

Though none of them spoke during the descent, their wolves recognizing the need to work off this dangerous energy together.