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My Songs Know What You Do In The Dark

Running… running… freedom.

The scent of the forest fills my nose—trees, leaves, grass, flowers. Moonlight streams through clouds and when I look up at the light, I feel the wind ruffling over my body. Hair stands on end as a loud mournful howl echoes off the hills. Sniffing the air, I take off, running towards the sound.

Soft flapping distracts me, and I throw my head back as the scent of peonies and snapdragons floats in the air. The sound of fluttering wings followed by heavier, larger ones that carry another familiar scent—vetiver, cedar, and ylang ylang—give me pause, but I howl loudly in response.

Howl?

I lurch forward, the ground soft beneath my feet as I gallop through the brush, eager to find the source of the roiling fire in my gut. I can hear voices, but I can’t focus on them as the bone deep drive to hunt my mate.

Mate?

Shaking my head as frustration and confusion fill me, I inhale again, searching for the trail he left. When I pick up the scent of pheromones, dragon’s blood, and sandalwood, I bare my teeth in a grin. I have him now—he won’t escape me so easily. I pick up my pace, leaping over branches and through the brush like a heat-seeking missile. The clearing is empty when I burst out of the woods, so I sniff the air and a rumble builds inside of me.

There is more than one. Canine and avian I can discern, but two others are human but not. The last is… simian? That is puzzling because the animal has a smell I don’t claim as mine—yet. Something about it draws me, but I know the time is not right. Narrowing my eyes as I scan the darkness, I bay into the starry sky, calling to them.

A flash of brilliant light just accompanies the answering howl over the next hill, close to the farm. The overwhelming aroma of horses and manure invade my nose, and I bolt across the field with purpose. I will find them, and I will claim what is mine.

* * *

T he sunlight hurts my eyes when I open them, and I groan as it feels like someone has tried to burn them out of the sockets. I close them to keep from passing out in pain, lolling my head back and forth. Pushing hair off my face, I struggle to sit up, but I’m weighed down by what feels like a metric ton. My hands find warm bare skin and I slide my palms up to broad shoulders.

Teddy.

Movement behind me catches my attention, and a soft kiss on my shoulder makes my lips curve. That’s Wolfie for certain. I don’t know why the bed feels so hard, but I’m glad that my boys are home. Grumbling to my right makes a brow arch because it’s in Gaelic, and the chuckle that answers the muttered sound has to be Prez.

I don’t remember everything that happened after they got home, but I can only assume they groveled well. To be honest, I angrier at myself for coming to depend on them so much I lost perspective. I didn’t move home to Whistler’s Hollow to collect men like a succubus in heat, but now that I have, I don’t plan on letting any of them go.

Every inch of my body aches, and when I try to move, I almost burst into tears. I’m so sore; I don’t even know if I can do more than breathe. It feels like I’ve been torn to pieces and reassembled—my joints are aching like I did a 10k with no prep. My skin is stinging from head to toe; did I get into a fight with a wildcat?

“Sugarplum, are you okay?” Wolfie whispers in my ear. His nose brushes the side of my neck and I sigh, a feeling of contentment so enormous that it overwhelms me blossoming in my chest.

I smile, but it hurts, too. “I’m achy as hell, but otherwise, yes.”

“You should hurt, drugar,” Teddy rumbles as he rubs fresh stubble over my chest. “We were out all night.”

“We were? When did we get home?”

A snort, followed by the unmanliest giggle of all time, erupts from the head buried against my right shoulder. His shoulders shake, and before I can ask why he’s so tickled, he speaks. “Gentlemen, I believe my Tíogair had one of her trademark blackouts. She doesn’t remember our… wild hunt, so to speak.”

Frowning, I force my eyes open with a moan of pain. They’re dry and burning, especially in the morning's brightness. “I remember coming home, doing target practice, and being angry. After that, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t remember when Boone and I found you outside?” Prez asks, leaning over my darling to look at me curiously.

“No?” I murmur, not understanding the look of sadness on his face.

“Fuck.” Teddy pushes up, finally lifting his weight off me. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted as he shoots looks at all the boys.

My heart thumps and for a moment, I worry they’re upset with me. I’ve never been able to control the weird fits I have, and while I know it’s not the easiest issue to deal with, it can’t be that terrible. “Are you… are you upset? I don’t mean to be such a burden. I know you didn’t ask to be stuck with my stupid fainting spells.”

Wolfie reaches up, cupping my cheek. “Sugarplum, we could never blame you for something you can’t control. Before you came back, we would have never imagined finding one person who could not only bring us together, but make us enjoy it as well.”

I blink, looking at each of them. I know he’s not discounting his obvious love for Presley, but I don’t know if I believe all the various personalities surrounding me enjoy being around one another. It’s not like I have some magical vagina; I’m just a girl with a wonky memory, dead parents, and a shit ton of pets. “I don’t know, Wolfie.”

Teddy surprises me by shaking his head. “He’s right, Tilly. I was a bit of a hound dog, and I had no intention of settling down, much less moving into a house harem.” His lips twist, and he sighs, dropping his forehead to my chest again. “But I find myself less and less eager to go to my place—even when you’re not home.”

“Aw, Boone! I think you’re warming up to Lucy and I,” Presley quips, batting his lashes over his love’s shoulder. “I enjoy being sister husbands with you, too.”

“For the love of curdled Bailey’s, you guys are going to make me heave. The lack of self-awareness in you eejits is shocking.” Doyle sits up, brushing dirt and leaves off of his chest.

Dirt and leaves? What in the ass nibbling fuck?

“Are we… in the dirt?” I ask, realizing why the light is so bright. The blackout curtains in my room prevent the morning eye strain, though it’s a much higher level of irritation than normal. They all laugh, and I glare.

“I think we might be, Sugarplum,” Wolfie says. He reaches up and plucks a leaf out of my hair with a soft smile.

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“Pup, I think we need to get our girl home and get her cleaned up. What do you think?”

Another snort and a string of Gaelic mutterings make me turn my head. “Would you like to come, Lucky?”

He sighs as if I’m the most trying being on the planet, and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll join the four most obtuse polyamorous people on the planet on a journey to the home they should share while they…” Doyle stops, a grin spreading across his face. “The chaos will be lovely. I can’t wait.”

I sigh, giving what I think is an evil glare. I’m honestly too tired and achy to know if I look threatening or not. “No shenanigans, no chaos—I’m not letting anyone move in if you assholes can’t get along or answer texts .”

Presley pokes his head over Wolfie’s shoulder again. “If we promise to make it up to you, can we go home and shower now?”

His use of the word home makes my chest tighten, and I nod, unable to voice my answer. My assent makes Teddy beam, and he jumps to his feet, bending to scoop me into his arms with a whoop. Holding his hand out to my vet, he tugs him to his feet, and the others follow suit.

My eyes widen as we walk away, and I whisper, “Okay, who wants to tell me why we’re all naked?” Their laughter rings through the hills as we head back to the house on a trail I didn’t even know existed.

I guess that’s a story for another day?