Page 60 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Every part of me feels raw, torn between the depths of sorrow for the father I lost and the profound relief of the life granted back to me. My thoughts swirl, caught between these polarities, and in that emotional vortex, one anchor remains steady.

Zirah.

She is a pillar of strength amid the chaos, but beneath her resolute exterior, I feel the tremors of her guilt. She saved my life at the cost of my father’s. It wasn’t a simple weight to bear.

It’s a weight I want to lift from her because she shouldn’t have to carry it alone. “I’m covered in wolf fur,” Zeke whines, and I roll my eyes at him as he wanders to my bathroom.

“Since when did my room become your room?” I call out to him, but it’s Lyon who answers.

“Since you brought our mate into your room. Now it is our room,” he announces.

“What’s hers is now ours, brother,” Zeke yells from the bathroom. I shake my head instead, following Zirah to the bed. Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow follow Lyon, who starts building a fire in the fireplace. I fall on the bed beside Zirah.

Amid the strange atmosphere of mourning and realizing I have to share her with my brothers, a moment of lightness breaks through when Zirah leans over me with an almost sheepish look in her eyes. “Regan,” she begins, biting her lip slightly.

“Hmm?” I ask. She almost looks nervous about speaking whatever is on her mind. “Given everything that’s happened...It seems I need to...I still need to mark you again.”

I raise an eyebrow, and the corner of my mouth quirks up in amusement. “Are you saying I’m unclaimed still?”

She rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance, though her eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you must put it that way. You’re like a blank canvas, but trust me, it won’t remain that way for long. I wanted to wait, but I’d rather know you’re not going to...” she trails off.

“Drop dead on you?” I offer, and she nods.

I grab her, dragging her on top of me and closing the distance between us.

Her fingers trace patterns on my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

Her eyes are deep pools of warmth and desire, making my heart race.

There is a moment of stillness where the weight of our shared pain and the depth of our connection becomes all-encompassing.

We are a tangle of emotions, but this act of reclamation and marking feels right.

It feels like the balm needed to soothe our souls.

I turn my head to the side, and Zirah delicately places her lips on the nape of my neck, marking me with soft, feather-light kisses.

The sensation is electric, every nerve ending coming alive and tingling.

I tilt my head, granting her better access before her teeth sink into me, sealing our bond once more.

Then, with a playful nip, she pulls back, her eyes dancing with mischief. “There,” she says with a satisfied smirk. “Mine, once more.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Always,” I reply, pulling her higher and capturing her lips with mine. Our lips meet in a dance of longing and relief, sorrow and hope, and above all, love.

Breaking the kiss, our foreheads touch, breaths mingling. She lets out a soft, contented sigh. “It’s funny,” she whispers. “Even with all this chaos, this moment feels so...right.”

I smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s because it is,” I reply. “With you, everything feels right,” I tell her when the bathroom door opens. A billow of steam follows Zeke into the room. He wanders off to my walk-in closet. “For fuck’s sake, first my room, now my clothes,”

“I can sleep naked if you prefer,” he laughs, and I growl at him.

Zirah goes to climb off me, but I roll, forcing her onto her back.

“Are you forgetting something?” I purr, nipping at her neck.

My teeth graze her soft skin, making her gasp.

Without hesitation, she gives me her neck, and I sink my teeth into her, feeling the bond solidify as her legs wrap around my waist.

Pulling back, I look down at her. “Now you’re mine,” I whisper, and she lifts her head, capturing my lips with hers, a fervent urgency in the kiss.

From the closet, Zeke chuckles, emerging in a pair of my sweats.

“Always staking your claim, aren’t you, Regan?

” he teases, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Speaking of claims,” he says with a wink, walking over to the edge of the bed and tracing a fingertip up Zirah’s exposed calf.

“You seem to forget we are all hers. That means you have to share.”

I growl at Zeke and glare at his fingers walking up her thigh.

His eyes sparkle challengingly. When the mattress dips beside me, I turn my attention back to Zirah and see Lyon leaning over and kissing her.

Zirah moans, her hips arching against me, and I can feel her desire loud and clear. She wants us, all of us.