Page 24 of My Pucking Mates (Pucking Werewolves #4)

K eeping my eyes closed, I bask in the warmth of my mate’s soft skin against mine, the calmness of her aura while she sleeps slowly trickling down our mate bond, intertwined with my brother’s strangely calm energy—he’s usually wound tighter than a drum.

I’ve been awake for a while, but I haven’t even had the desire to open my eyes. If I open them, I’ll be fully awake, and my emotions could wake them.

Judging by the lack of blazing sun on my skin, I’d wager we managed to sleep the entire day away. Though, that does mean we laid in the island’s sun all day long—naked—and if we weren’t werewolves, we’d likely have third-degree burns.

While I’m not exactly upset about sleeping the day away—we all clearly needed the rest—I do hope Runa isn’t disappointed by missing out on her entire first day in Hawaii.

As a cool, sweet breeze rolls against our skin, I replay the look of wonder on her face as she took in our vacation home, then sprinted up the stairs to the deck.

I remind myself that we need to spend more time on the rooftop at home, maybe even finally building a cabin on the packlands with a similar observation deck overlooking the massive lake.

Eris and I hadn’t elected to build our own home on the property because we were always just wherever Roman and the rest of our tightly-knit group were. We’d all just chosen to stay in the Alpha’s cabin—before Leera came along anyways. I wouldn’t dare interrupt them now.

Finally opening my eyes, the air is knocked from my lungs at the view of my slumbering mate lying on her back between us, illuminated only by the bright light of the moon. Both of her shoulders are adorned with nearly matching mate marks. My chest constricts at the sight before me.

The patterns shockingly resemble waves of the ocean and are practically identical, but if you look close enough, you can easily tell them apart.

The pale, almost-white lines look like long-healed scars against her golden skin.

Eris’ mark is made of jagged and barbed lines, making the waves look angry, as though you’re encountering a storm at sea, while the lines of my mark are smooth, like a calm day at the beach with soft, rolling waves.

My fingers itch to trace the lines across her skin, and to see the marks that my brother and I have, but I still, trying not to move. I’m surprised my reaction to the marks hasn’t already woken them, but I can’t contain the way my heart soars at the sight of everything before me.

My thoughts are suddenly drawn to a tickling feeling on my leg.

My eyes instinctually slide to my mate and twin, but they are both still very much asleep.

Cautiously turning my head, I’m unable to contain myself when I yelp and jump from where I was lying because there is a freaking gecko crawling up my leg.

Runa startles awake like the cute, main character in a movie, while Eris springs into action, taking his battle stance with fists raised, ready to take on a monster—still completely naked, mind you.

“Uh…sorry,” I chuckle, “gecko.” I finish, shrugging my shoulder in embarrassment.

As Runa’s eyes focus, I can physically see her processing my words before she bursts into laughter. She doesn’t just laugh. She laughs so hard she’s clutching her middle, doubling over, and wheezing with tears escaping her eyes.

“Yes, yes, hilarious,” I mock-scold with a smile while she tries to get herself together, earning me a pillow thrown at my head from Eris, who has calmed and now sits next to Runa.

When she can finally breathe and wipes the last of her happy tears from her face, she looks to me and is about to say something when she stills, mouth hanging open on the words she was about to say.

Her eyes fill with new tears, but they’re not humorous or sad; I can feel the love rushing through our bond like a raging river.

Our marks, I think to myself just as she reaches out to touch mine. The action bringing my cock to attention, a shiver rolling through my limbs.

Ignoring the desire trying to take over this moment, I’m finally able to see Eris’ marks and part of mine.

From what I can see, they are identical.

Two sets of waves. The ones on each side of Runa’s neck.

We each have our own set of waves on our shoulder where she marked us.

Her head moves back and forth, looking between our marks before noticing her own on either side of her neck.

“They’re perfect,” she squeaks, reaching for us.

We simultaneously lean into her, our foreheads resting on either side of her face; all of our eyes close as we are consumed by the moment. You’re perfect, Eris promises through our bond, I allow my eyes to open, finding her face lit up with his words and being able to communicate through our bond.

Leaning forward, I pepper kisses along her collarbone, teasing the skin close to her new mark. How are you feeling? I ask before I get her all wound up. It’s the first time she’s taken two men at once—before you consider our knots. I don’t want to take her again if she’s still sore.

She wriggles where she sits, checking herself.

I’m perfect, she answers cheekily. Must have healed all up while we slept; I expected to at least be a little sore…

Her face stills in realization. “We slept all day?” she says in a way that makes it sound more like a question, but I think she meant it as a statement.

Nodding, I answer cautiously, hoping again that she’s not upset to have missed her first day of vacation. “It would appear so. That may be why you’re feeling okay.”

Springing from where she was settled between us, she stands over us and starts gathering clothes. She collects mine first, throws them at me, and repeats the process with Eris’ clothes before she begins pulling her own over her body I was hoping to taste more of.

“Get dressed, boys; you’re taking me to the beach,” she beams, and there’s no way either of us could say no if we had wanted to.