Page 12
A warm shiver travelled the length of her body, and her breath caught, but she didn’t exactly know how to respond.
Kilian and Theodore had claimed her first night, and she stayed up as late as possible and trained as hard as she could in an attempt to ensure she was out cold for the four hours she did eventually lay down.
She was petrified of having one of her nightmares and waking up to a bedroom populated by ghosts.
“Be more gay,” Cian clipped, gently lifting her away from Kilian.
“Me?” she asked with pretend confusion.
He cut her a glare, but she was immediately distracted by how amazing he looked with the chandelier cutting little pieces of golden light across his tightly muscled golden skin.
She quickly tore her eyes away and skipped over to the tripod set up against the mirrors.
She hooked up her phone while Cian set up a proper camera to record, just in case they wanted to release a version with higher quality.
It was highly unlikely, but Gabriel had beaten the habit into all of them.
“Okay, ready.” She grinned to her camera before backing away. She could already imagine the comments comparing her stoic professionalism during her solo dances to this happy, flushed version of her, but … well, she was too happy and tipsy to care.
She didn’t dare to hope that the tide might be turning in their favour, that there was even a narrowly possible future where she wouldn’t have to hide even one of her relationships—because ten was stretching it. Maybe she could sell the public on two of them? Or three? But no, she wouldn’t hope.
It still didn’t stop her body from feeling lighter and her smile from blossoming.
She pivoted to stand between her two shirtless mates, before realising they were in their socks and she still wore shoes. She kicked them off clumsily.
“Act sober,” Cian said, deadpan.
Kilian sighed. “They can hear you.”
“Are we ready?” Isobel ignored them, cueing the song to start from her smart watch.
It was impossible to get even halfway through the whole song without cracking a few small smiles, but Cian and Kilian salvaged it by shifting a little closer to her, almost boxing her in.
Because they were so close, they weren’t able to fully extend their movements, and the subtler version of her choreography became suddenly more sensual, especially with their bodies almost brushing hers.
It was almost too sensual, but after only a few seconds, they both eased away again, and they resumed the proper choreography and went right back to trying not to laugh at themselves.
When it felt like they were about to burst into laughter again, she deliberately turned the wrong way and spun into Cian’s chest, forcing them to grind the next few moves against each other before the choreography required them to switch positions again.
Just like before, it was almost too sexual, so she made sure to giggle once she was free of him, like it was just a funny mistake.
Toward the end, Cian began to sing along to the song, everything about him beautifully sexy and carefree, pulling the focus just enough for them to finish off with straight faces, because it wasn’t funny at all to watch him lose himself to a beautiful song for a moment, even if the dance was over the top.
As soon as they were done, panting from exertion and dizziness, Isobel tore her eyes from Cian to look at Kilian in the mirror, expecting him to be watching his friend—but he wasn’t.
He was staring at her, apparently as transfixed by her as she had been by Cian’s singing, even though she hadn’t been doing anything.
It wasn’t until she focussed that she recognised the intensity in that stare, and it pulled her up short.
He wasn’t transfixed. His eyes were narrowed, his body tense.
He was jealous.
She had no idea if it was an act or not, so she fixed a dazzling smile in place and went to turn off the cameras. As soon as she stepped away from the bigger camera, she found her body spinning, her back hitting the mirror, a hard mouth crushing into her own.
She had closed her eyes automatically, but she didn’t need to look to know it was Kilian.
His tongue pushed into her mouth, one of his hands dwarfing her face as he cradled her jaw, his bergamot and bark scent hooking into her pores.
This sort of sudden attack from any of her other mates might have made her pause.
It might have even scared her for a moment.
Alphas were territorial at best and downright volatile when pushed too far, but Kilian had a way of tearing down every reaction she might have had and exposing only the soft, drugging want that he could inspire in her.
So instead of freaking out, she jumped on him. He caught her easily with one arm, jostling her to wrap her legs around his hips and pressing her into the mirror again. His kiss grew deeper and hungrier in an instant, but a rough throat clearing quickly broke them apart.
“Hello?” Cian sounded like he had just answered a phone call.
Kilian eased back another inch, his pale green eyes digging into hers.
“Yeah, we’re still here,” Cian said to whoever had called him.
Kilian’s hands slipped to her ass, squeezing her through her shorts, his hips tilting to press between her legs.
He was hard, his eyes hooded, a stern look falling over his features.
She knew that look, as rare as it was. He was either lecturing himself right now, or he was preparing to snap at Cian.
“They’re making out right in front of me,” Cian said, sounding exasperated. “Okay, we’ll head back.”
He appeared beside them, propping a shoulder up against the mirror and slipping his phone away. His eyes drifted between them, his lips lifting in a slight smirk.
Kilian’s jaw began to tighten.
“This is cosy,” Cian whispered.
Even Isobel knew he was pushing his luck. Kilian almost never flexed his dominance, but he was higher up the Alpha chain than Cian, and she could feel that he was seconds away from ordering him out of the room.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Mikel.” Cian breathed out a sigh that didn’t even attempt to look disappointed. “He said you better get your ass back to the dorm in the next ten minutes or you’ll be limping to bed.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
Kilian huffed out a laugh, his grip loosening slightly.
“Yes, you.” Cian pushed off the mirror and went in search of his discarded clothing. “Apparently, you only got four hours of sleep last night. He’s being serious, Illy. You better start running. ”
She swore and rushed for her shoes, shoving them onto her feet and gathering her belongings.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
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- Page 81
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- Page 84