Page 27

It’s early enough that they might not even be up and roaming around yet. If I’m really fast, maybe I could sneak away to the rec hall and try to get this smell off of me.

Doubtful.

I have a feeling it’s going to take multiple rounds of washing for me to stop smelling Camden all over me.

What an asshole.

Ugh.

Maybe I can at least find a pair of scrubs to change into while I wash my clothes in the ward laundry room.

That’ll have to suffice for now.

I turn around, ready to go see what I can scrounge up when I’m suddenly snatched up from behind. There’s a hand over my mouth, an arm around my midsection pinning my arms at my sides, and I’m lifted off the ground in a way that would be comical, maybe even fun if I wasn’t terrified out of my mind.

I’m being dragged backwards, away from everyone who could keep me from being kidnapped at work but when the door in front of me closes and I’m spun around, I’m convinced even that wouldn’t matter right now because I’m going to die.

In the storage closet on Ward C.

Smelling like Camden Blackhurst took a shit in my purse.

“Jesus, Vin. She looks terrified.”

My brows shoot up then immediately form into a scowl as Desmond Hawthorne grins at me.

“Gonna scream, sugar?”

I shake my head at the voice behind me, trying to look over my shoulder at Korvin so he can experience an equally dirty look. I can’t in this position, but I’m putting in the effort.

“What’s the big idea?” I snap as soon as he sets me free. “You almost sent me into cardiac arrest, grabbing me like you’re about to drag me in here and kill me. I’d like to think we’ve made enough progress with the two of you to take that off the table.”

Korvin walks around to stand next to Desmond and I swear it’s like some sort of bomb goes off in my brain the second he does.

The two of them standing side by side, towering over me with all the muscles and prison tattoos.

Staring at me with pretty eyes and even prettier smiles.

I swear if I keep looking directly at them they’re going to start batting their stupidly long lashes and making kissy faces with their full, Cupid’s bow lips.

I won’t have to worry about my clothes if that happens. They’ll spontaneously combust right off my body but don’t worry, I’m sure the river of slick gushing from my pussy will put out the flames.

Oh boy.

Oh boy, I am in so much trouble.

”You’re both ?—“

“What in the actual fuck happened to your throat?” Korvin comes straight at me, backing me up against the wall until I have no choice but to bump into him when it stops me. “This is a goddamn hand print.”

“And to think we only dragged you in here because you stink.” Desmond takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my head so they can see the marks Camden left. “Tisk, tisk, little flower. You’re two for two.”

Is it possible to have a contact orgasm?

One that happens from the most unsexy contact ever, like checking a person for injuries?

The realization that both of these men are my scent matches—I have no fucking clue how I didn’t know before this second—is one thing. A thing that had me slicking almost instantly, but now? Skin to skin with Desmond, chest to chest with Korvin? One false move and I’ll come without even trying.

Hence proving I am a hot fucking mess because I was just attacked down in the parking lot and ready to go into hiding, but now I can’t seem to think of anything other than how these two men would look naked while those fantastic scents surround me.

Thunderstorms and spice.

It’s what I imagine it would smell like if I were sitting in a cabin in the woods, late at night in front of a fire while the rain pelted the window outside.

Cozy, inviting, a touch unsettling but not in a bad way.

The extra edge on the back of those dominant scents are what account for the unsettling.

It’s the same edge both of these men wear on their faces.

Granted, Desmond is usually grinning like a cat who got the canary and I sometimes wonder if it physically hurts Korvin to smile since I’ve seen it less than a handful of times, but still. They wear the malice well, just in very different ways.

“Who the hell put their hands on you?” Korvin grunts, leaning down to get a better look before he growls in a way I have never heard anyone growl before. “Fuck.”

He takes a few steps back, gritting his teeth as he buries his fingers in his hair, tugging hard on those dark brown strands.

My eyes widen as he starts to pace, breathing heavily while every muscle in his body seems to go rigid.

“Korvin?” I take a step away from the wall as the urge to comfort him starts to build in my belly. “Korvin, I?—“

“Don’t,” he barks, side stepping away. “Don’t fucking move.”

My heart sinks as I follow his commands, his tone almost icy.

My stomach starts to twist over the conflicting feelings he clearly has and the way I can feel them race through my body.

I look between him and Desmond, ready to burst into tears over the weird sense of panic and worry, over the possibility of rejection, over a million different things I haven’t ever really experienced before.

I blink a few times, trying to keep myself from crying because I don’t really understand what’s happening right now and the last thing I want to do is fall apart over a damn mystery.

”It’s your scent.” Desmond leans against the counter, centering himself between me and Korvin. “You’re lucky it didn’t set him all the way off until now.”

I frown as I look between them again. “My scent?” He nods. “I thought, well, I mean, I thought that was supposed to be a”— my cheeks flame as a blush blooms over my skin—“I thought it was supposed to be a good thing in these kinds of situations.”

One very expressive brow arches as he tilts his head, his grin turning to something devious. “What kind of situation, Maggie?”

”Well, you know.”

”Enlighten me.” Desmond crosses his arms against his chest while he stares holes in my head.

I swallow hard, dropping my gaze briefly before I decide I shouldn’t be weird about this.

It’s not a bad thing that these two are my scent matches.

Inconvenient maybe, considering our meet cute took place in an asylum they aren’t allowed to leave.

And yeah, there’s the little matter of the whole doctor-patient thing, but I’m sure I can work around it.

So what if they’re both murderers? I’ve never felt like I was unsafe around them, never felt like they wanted to murder me. I have my flaws, too.

Somehow I don’t think leaving my clothes all over the floor and biting my cuticles are in the same category as killing people, though.

To hell with it.

If these two men are my scent matches, then there's a reason we were thrown together under these circumstances.

But what if I’m wrong?

What if I want them to be something they’re not, just because I’m trapped in a forced relationship with someone who might actually kill me?

What if I’m making this up because I so desperately want to believe that someone could want me, that someone could love me entirely and for who I am, not because of what I represent?

What if I’m so tired of fighting to free myself from this prison that I’ve lived in my entire life, that I’m willing to conjure up a scent match scenario with two men I should be terrified of, just so I can live the fantasy a little while longer before that same life comes to an end?

Or worse yet, what if I’m right?

What if I’m right and both Desmond and Korvin are my scent matches, but they don’t want me?

Which is insane because how the fuck could we be together right now, anyway, but the idea of either of them rejecting me makes me want to cry.

I’d rather not have that happen and have to figure out how to get them out of here, not stay on this ward as a living corpse who wasn’t even good enough for her scent matches.

”Maggie.”

I lift my eyes from the tile floor, turning slowly toward Desmond.

A single tear manages to roll down my cheek and it annoys the fuck out of me.

That bothers me more than the fact that I just answered both of their barks with my actions.

Which has to mean something since I think the last time I answered one was when I was little and my father lost his shit over something I did.

It was so long ago I can’t remember the specifics, but I know it was the last time because I spent the majority of my life in that house dissociating from reality.

Can’t respond if you don’t hear it.

”Oh, sweet little Magnolia,” he says with a sigh, a more genuine smile pulling at his lips. “Say the words. We both need to hear them.”

”You’re my scent matches,” I whisper while maintaining eye contact with Desmond. “Both of you.”

His entire body relaxes and his eyes slide shut as if he’s savoring the words, but Korvin reacts a little differently to my proclamation.

He growls again, nearly ripping his hair from his head before his right arm shoots out and sends his fist through the wooden crate on the shelf next to him.

Splinters of pine and dust explode on the other side of him, whatever was in the crate crashes into the wall, and all I can do is stand there wide eyed because I haven’t even seen this much emotional expression from him in his therapy sessions.

“Then why,” he spits out through clenched teeth. “Why the fuck do you smell like another alpha?”

Shit.

”Uhm… I, well…” I pull my hands up into my sleeves to refrain from biting at my fingers. “I can explain that.”

”Do it,” Korvin barks as his eyes snap to mine.

Frankly, that pisses me off.

So instead of obeying him while he’s being a shithead, I motion like I’m zipping my lips, locking them, then throw away the imaginary key.

That pisses Korvin off.

He turns toward me, fingers flexing at his sides and when I’m convinced he’s going to plow into me again, I watch the most interesting thing happen.