Page 33

THIRTEEN

TWO TO GO

MAGNOLIA

T his is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Sort of.

Des and Korvin stayed as long as they could last night, probably cut it a little too close honestly, but after they bound us together, they didn’t want to leave. Partly because we’re newly bonded , partly because they were very determined to make sure not one ounce of their cum was wasted.

They had me lay on my back, still completely naked, with my head on a pillow in Vin’s lap while my ass rested on another one in Des’s. My legs were straight up in the air, buttcheeks, thighs, and calves against his abs and chest with my ankles crossed over his shoulder.

That’s how we stayed until they absolutely had to leave.

Gentle caressing, constant touching. So much purring.

I didn’t realize that was something alphas could do off and on for extended periods of time when they were content.

I honestly thought it was a myth, that happy, content, bonded alphas purred.They were, though.

Korvin and Des were practically beside themselves with contentment and happiness, and it sort of broke my heart.

Not entirely, I was flying high on cloud nine myself, but thinking about how touch starved they are, how shitty their lives have been until now, and how little basic, decent human interaction they’ve had. It made me want to keep them right there in my room forever.

They soaked up every bit of attention I gave them. Neither of them could stop touching me. Even while we were laying there talking about our tattoos because I had more than they expected and frankly, so did they since the majority of their work was done in prison.

Vin played with my hair and kept tracing his fingers over their marks.

Des rubbed my legs from ass to ankles and back again.

If they wanted to know about one of my tattoos, they pointed it out on my skin, touching it almost reverently while I told them.

I made sure to keep as much physical contact as possible, not just for them but for me, too.

Who knows when the next time will be.

That’s why I got emotional about everything when they left.

I kept it together when we said our goodbyes, I even managed to throw in a few playful comments about how incredibly sexy they are but as soon as they disappeared out of sight, I lost my shit.

I’ve wanted this for so long.

The number of fantasies I’ve had about finding my scent match and having them take me away from here before living out our happily ever after? It’s countless. More times than I’d ever be able to keep track of.

But I have no idea if that’ll ever be an option for us so, I cried.

Tears of frustration. Joy and sadness. I cried big fat angry tears because this feels like another sick joke orchestrated by fate, a prank to pull just like giving me the parents I have, and trying to force me into something with Camden.

That was bad enough.

To show me my mates, to let me forge bonds that I don’t think can ever be broken, but in a setting that makes it impossible to live the way I thought everyone was supposed to once they found their pack.

Granted, I’ve seen people who find their mate and live miserably.

My parents are the prime example of that.

They aren’t scent matches but they are fated, and I have been a witness every day since as far back as I can remember to how horrible they are to each other. I’d almost go as far as to say they might hate each other more than they hate me.

Almost.

Which blows my mind. Mates who can actually make the decision to hate each other.

I have been chomping at the bit to see mine this morning. I’m needy for them, and it’s because of the overwhelming love I feel. How anyone could replace that with hate is almost impossible to fathom.

I didn’t sleep after they left, I couldn’t, and once I realized how close it was to my alarm going off, I just started my day.

I obeyed my alphas by only washing my face, brushing my teeth, and using dry shampoo in my hair.

I made sure I didn’t stink, though, I don’t want to smell like I never bathe, then got dressed and grabbed my shit.

I took off earlier than normal, almost an hour and a half earlier, but I didn’t want to risk a run in with Camden, and the urge to be close to my mates in even the simplest of ways was so strong that it pushed me out the door.

Eve was still asleep on the couch and I made sure to leave her a note after I plugged her phone in. Then I basically rushed out of our building and straight to the nearest bus stop because the shuttle isn’t running yet and it was the only way to get to the asylum when I wanted to.

I got here before shift change.

The night guards and nurses were still clocked in and I know having me walk through the doors when I did had everyone raising a brow.

Either that or they can smell my alphas on me.

In me.

Which is definitely not my normal fragrance, and the way I’m walking might be a dead give away, too.

I understand that if I walk normally it doesn’t mean Des and Korvin’s cum is just going to fall out of me.

That’s not how things work, and definitely not after the two of them pushed every drop inside me then had me lay the way they did.

Sure, it might be on my panties but it’s not going to all fall out just because I’m upright.

The entire population would have died out millions of years ago if that were the case.

And yet, I’m walking around like I’m clenching a stick between my buttcheeks.

Ultimately, it helps me feel close to my alphas. Especially since their marks are still healing and I had to cover them up so no one got suspicious.

I hate that, too.

I want the entire world to see those beautiful marks, to see the red and pink branded on my skin, and I want them to know I belong to Korvin and Desmond, and they belong to me.

One day.

With a sigh, I breeze past the charge nurse as if it’s totally normal for me to be here before 7am, say hello to the rest of the night shift, then do a waddle-run to Isaak’s office to sit and wait until everyone is up and functional.

I drop my bag on the couch then walk to the middle of the room before I stop and just stare out the window.

What the hell am I going to do with myself for two hours?

That’s when they get the residents up for meds and breakfast, it’s usually when I get in, too. Isaak will probably come in at eight or eight thirty, he likes to come in a little early to prep for the day but that still leaves me a ton of time to sit around and do nothing.

I have too much energy for that.

Stretching my arms above my head, I smile at the slight sting on my shoulders. I like that their marks are still tender. I like that I can feel my alphas on every inch of my skin each time I move.

I wish they would hurry up and get everyone else moving. Waiting to see them after last night feels like a form of torture.

My phone pings from my bag, one right after another and I smile because I have a feeling my hung over bestie might be back with the living.

THE DEAN: Wake up.

THE DEAN: I need to speak with you.

Talk about a killjoy.

If I were drunk, seeing his name on my screen would sober me up real quick.

I could definitely use a drink now. A little liquid courage to get through whatever I’m about to deal with. There isn’t enough liquor in the world to make talking to him any easier, though.

ME: I’m up, I’m already at work.

THE DEAN: Why?

ME: Because I work here…

THE DEAN: Change your tone.

THE DEAN: I don’t have time for your shit this morning.

ME: You texted me first.

THE DEAN: I want a video chat. 8am sharp.

My stomach twists as I reread his messages.

It’s clear my father is not in a good mood, though, I’m pretty sure he’s pissed off 99.9% of the time. But if he’s wanting to FaceTime, with me of all people, his foul mood is directly related to something I’m doing. Most likely here.

He doesn’t ask Isaak for reports anymore, not after he and I ganged up on him about who we answer to.

Nurse Jones is apparently in charge of telling him everything I do or say and I’m sure the narrative that asshole spins is enough to fuel my father’s desire to ruin my life more than he already wanted to.

At least I’ll get it over with before my day actually starts. Not that it’ll matter if he makes me feel like shit or something. That would change my vibe no matter when it happens.

ME: I’ll be on at 8am.

THE DEAN: You better be. I am not in the mood to be toyed with.

What a dick.

That’s not news to me, but sometimes I just have to reiterate it for good measure.

Guess I better get ready.

Practically dragging my feet across the carpet, I lean down and open my bag, pull my laptop out then head to Isaak’s desk to set up shop.

I’m pretty sure I could be one hundred and four years old and my father would still try to control my life, and stress me out while doing it.

I bet that asshole would probably figure out how to pull my strings all the way from Hell.

The more time that goes by without a clear way of breaking my contract, the scarier that reality gets.

“I’m not to be disturbed until Dr. Reynolds arrives.”

I look up as Isaak backs in his office, whoever he’s talking to right on his ass but I can’t hear them.

“No, not even for him. I have a lot to do this morning before the residents are up, I want to do that without interruption.”

Apparently the Dean isn’t the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Dr. Lowe is grumpy today.

And he has no idea I’m already here.

Isaak closes his door, almost slamming it in the face of whoever is on the other side, locks it then proceeds to drop his forehead against the wood and let out the longest sigh in the history of sighing.

If I wasn’t still a little miffed at him for yesterday, I’d find this absolutely adorable.

I am. I’m miffed but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s pretty cute in his misery.

“Rough morning?”