Page 24 of Just Right (The Beasts of Blackmoor #3)

W inter in Blackmoor is as magical as you’d imagine in a fairytale forest.

The air smells like peppermint, a chilly wind blowing the delectable scent past me whenever I step outside.

Snow sparkles on empty trees, blinding yet glittering, and just so damn pretty.

The winding river behind our cabin ices over during the worst of the constant storms, but all it takes is one of my mates doing their version of a polar bear plunge—emphasis on bear, though they’re grizzlies instead of polars—to give us access to the flowing water again.

Rowan moved the big brass tub inside. Finn pouted a little when he noticed that Rowan maneuvered the tub into his room—making it clear that, whenever I wanted to bathe, it would be the oldest brother’s responsibility to wash their mate—but since I made my choice, choosing all three of them to be mine, it’s not like Colt and Finn don’t end up in Rowan’s personal territory during bath time.

They get the job of gathering the river water, warming it over the fire, and watching me sink into the hot water with pleasure before I inevitably—and enthusiastically—return the favor.

My mates all have fur of their own. The weather doesn’t bother them one way or another, though they’re more than happy to share their body heat with me.

From the moment autumn gave way to winter a few weeks ago, we’ve spent most of our days—and all of our evenings—in a huddle before the fire.

Sometimes I’ll curl up on top of Rowan in his bear form, or snuggle next to Colt’s fuzzy bulk while Finn sprawls out by my feet, but whenever I need one…

or two… or three of them, they’re more than eager to shift back to ‘human’ so that I’m constantly hot.

There hasn’t been any trace of the fever since I first experienced it. Rowan says that’s because I mated Finn first, then Colt, before finally accepting Rowan. Blackmoor got what it wanted from me—and I got my mates.

Goldie and her three bears.

I don’t regret my decision. Whether I made it because I was too horny to think straight, or the idea of staying with a trio of hunky brothers who want me so desperately, they share me was just too irresistible to pass up… I made it, and I’m happy that I did.

As always, my sweet Finn is the romantic one.

He bumps his nose with mine, threading his fingers in my golden locks, and says that fate brought us together.

I was always meant to belong to the Brown brothers, and they’d waited a long time for me.

They would’ve waited even longer, but I was theirs.

I found their cabin, just like I was meant to, and though Rowan’s bed was too hard at first, and Colt’s was too soft, and though Finn’s seemed to be just right …

it wasn’t until all three of us were together that first time that I truly understood what perfection could be.

Happiness.

Love .

I love my mates, and weeks after I should’ve returned to my boring, non-magical life back in New Jersey, I’m sitting on Colt’s lap in the kitchen while Finn feeds me honey straight from one of the jars he keeps stocked in the pantry during the winter months.

Rowan is leaning up against the wood stove, a small smile tugging on his rugged face, a mug of coffee in his big hands.

Do I know where the coffee comes from? No.

It’s another one of the contradictions that is Blackmoor.

We have oil lamps and a wood stove and steel pans.

A brass tub. An indoor toilet, but no running water.

There’s also things like coffee and potatoes, bread and cheese, all that appear in the icebox in the kitchen without anyone going out to buy them.

I have a closet full of clothes for all seasons, but no underwear.

Shampoo to wash my hair, but no conditioner until I complain about knots and, suddenly, Finn has a cream that tames my curls.

The forest is as magical as it appears through the windows of our cabin. I swear, it’s like looking through the thin, well-made glass and peering out into a snowglobe. The flurries twinkle beautifully in the moonlight, and it has a sense of coziness to our part of the woods. A sense of peace.

Like, for the first time in forever, I’m finally home.

Colt gooses my hips. Beneath my ass, I feel his erection, though he knows better than to try anything when his brothers are there.

When we have a night together alone, it doesn’t take much to have the insatiable middle brother throwing up the skirt of my dress and taking me fast and furiously before we’re both panting, out of breath, a pile of tangled limbs on the nearest flat surface.

But when Rowan and Finn are near? He waits until his oldest brother gives him a sign that he can claim their mate.

They might all be mine, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned since accepting all three of them, it’s that Rowan likes to watch almost as much as he likes to be in control, and the twins follow suit.

It’s already dark outside tonight. The oil lamps in the kitchen have cast a soft orange glow over everything.

It was Finn’s turn to clean up after dinner, but that gave him the idea for dessert.

And though I’m pretty sure that Goldie will be their dessert, for the moment, I’m lapping at his finger, licking the sticky sweetness off as Colt murmurs that I’m such a good girl.

Now, I won’t say that our romance is a true fairytale.

I’m hoping we’ll have a happily-ever-after—and since Blackmoor is magic, the ever part seems to be an upside to the whole deal—but it’s only been a couple of months.

Finn is as clingy as ever. Colt’s aggressiveness hides his soft side and obvious insecurities; as the middle brother, he worries that he can’t lead like Rowan or be gentle like Finn, with the outcome being that he thinks that the only way he can have me is if he constantly claims me.

That means he’s the one I have to assure of my feelings the most, which is surprising since Finn is, well, Finn.

And then there’s Rowan.

Rowan…

He told me once. That charged moment between us when I thought he was rejecting me, but he made it clear that he wouldn’t accept anything less than total surrender…

he told me that he wanted his bite on my skin.

And while I have his brothers’ there, too, it’s his that he nuzzles possessively when I purposely seek out Rowan’s bed.

And I have to. Big brother to his core, he’s satisfied in watching me with the twins. Just knowing that I chose to stay at their family cabin… that’s enough for him.

It’s not enough for me.

I don’t have favorites. I was drawn to and appreciate each of my mates in his own way. But I decided I wanted all of them—and that means that I am not satisfied with Rowan on the other side of the kitchen, a silent spectator with his after-dinner coffee an excuse to keep his distance.

He loves me. I know he does. Just like Colt and Finn do, too.

He’s just not as obvious, but that’s okay.

We have that ever to work toward making him feel comfortable in expressing his affection for his entire family.

At least I know he feels it, and that’s already loads better than a couple of my exes.

Besides, it’s super easy to get his attention when it’s understood that I always have it…

Leaning just a little away from Finn, I smile over at Rowan. “Hey. Can I have a taste?”

He raises his eyebrows at me, gesturing at the honey jar in his brother’s hands, but doesn’t come any closer.

Of course not. My wary bear always has to be sure of his invitation.

So I jerk my chin. “Your coffee. Can I try?”

It’s so not about the coffee, and the way that Rowan grips his mug while Colt rumbles in anticipation beneath me, they both know it. It doesn’t matter. With their impressive shifter noses, they can scent my arousal even before I get hot.

Which is, oh, always when I’m around them.

Pushing up from his casual yet undeniably sexy lean, Rowan stalks toward me.

I hold out my hand. He places the mug against my palm.

It’s warm, but the daring look Rowan gives me? That’s almost blistering.

I drink. He might be a bit of a hardass, and I’d expect him to take his coffee black, but I should’ve known better. My bears all have a sweet tooth, and Rowan poured enough sugar and milk into his mug, I’m not even sure there is coffee in this concoction.

“Mm.” I dart out my tongue, gathering a stray bead of liquid from the corner of my mouth as I return the mug to Rowan. “Yummy.”

Rowan lifts the mug to his mouth, putting his lips right where mine were seconds ago. Never taking his gaze off of my heavy-lidded stare, he drinks again. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a rough swallow.

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, and I know instinctively that he’s not talking about the sugar bomb we both tasted.

Shit. I felt that growl all the way to my pussy. You’d think that, with three devoted mates to service us… three devoted mates who are making up for only just losing their virginity… you’d think that I’d need a bit of a break. Nope. She’s a greedy bitch, always wanting more.

I reach out again, trailing a finger along the side of Finn’s hand. I shift my position just enough to draw Colt’s attention to his hard cock while also leaving no doubt that I wish the thin material of my skirt—and only that—wasn’t separating us.

I don’t look away from Rowan, but before I can suggest we take our dessert into the living room where there’s enough room for the three of us to sprawl out comfortably, his eyes flash. His nostrils flare.

His fangs punch through.

I blink. “Rowan?”

He shoves the mug onto the tabletop. “Someone is on our territory.”