Page 25

CHAPTER 25

POV: Briar

My priority should be putting leagues between myself and any alpha's territory. But the forest seems determined to shepherd me toward places I shouldn't venture. Typical of my luck, really.

A distant melody grabs my attention—haunting notes incongruous with this deadly wilderness. Music. Someone is performing during the Hunt, which means they’re either brave or dumb as hell.

Apparently I’m dumb as hell too.

I track the sound, moving carefully through thickets and underbrush. The melody becomes clear—a bone flute playing a mournful and defiant song. I recognize the musician from the Gathering Circle: Lira, the village artist whose song lyrics subtly undermined the fae a little too often.

The music stops abruptly, replaced by sounds that freeze my blood—rhythmic movements, flesh meeting flesh, and beneath it all, a woman's broken sounds that blur the boundary between pleasure and pain.

"Shit," I whisper, even as I creep closer. Every instinct screams to run. Instead, some grim compulsion draws me forward.

What I discover at the clearing's edge will haunt my nights for years to come.

Lira kneels on moss-covered ground, her dark hair unbound, falling around her face in disarray. Her body rocks forward with each powerful thrust from the magnificent alpha mounted behind her—his russet hair cascading to his waist, skin bearing subtle patterns of fallen leaves.

His brother—identical in every perfect detail—kneels in front of her, one hand twisted in her hair while the other strokes his engorged length, his expression one of anticipation. Both alphas are unnaturally beautiful—lean muscle beneath skin glowing with vitality, faces impossibly symmetrical, their arousals thick and alert in a way that would make any omega's body respond

The Raveling Brothers of the Autumn Court. Not twins, but bred so similar they share nearly identical features—and apparently, they share their prey as well.

"That's it, little songbird," the one kneeling before her murmurs, his voice like honey warmed before the fire. "Take my brother deeply. Show him how sweetly you sing."

His grip tightens in her hair, forcing her face upward. The expression I glimpse turns my stomach—eyes glazed with unwilling pleasure, tears streaking her cheeks even as her lips part in sounds she cannot suppress. Omega biology betraying her mind's resistance.

"Prynn," she gasps, the name torn from her throat. "Please..."

The alpha behind her—Prynn, apparently—laughs, the sound melodic and chilling. "She begs so beautifully, doesn't she, Blaim?" His hips drive forward with renewed force, drawing a startled cry from her. "I think she's ready for the transition."

Blaim smiles, somehow both charming and predatory. "I've been anticipating since you began." His arousal twitches in his hand, flushed and swollen, glistening at the tip. "She smells divine in heat."

Lira's scent carries on the breeze—honey and spice with the distinctive sweetness that marks an omega during the Hunt.

Prynn's rhythm falters, becoming erratic. His head falls back, russet hair flowing down his spine as he approaches climax. "Coming," he growls, fingers digging into Lira's hips hard enough to mark. "Taking this sweet omega... Knot forming..."

Lira cries out—half ecstasy, half despair—as he locks inside her, the knot expanding to bind them together. Her body trembles, caught in her own release despite her tears. This should conclude the claiming. Hunt protocol dictates that after knotting, an alpha releases his omega to flee, to find sanctuary before another claims her.

But the Raveling Brothers clearly don’t care about rules.

"Time for the transition, brother," Prynn says, voice strained but eager as his knot continues to pulse inside Lira. "She feels exquisite. You won't want to miss this."

Blaim rises to his feet, his arousal jutting proudly as he circles around to stand behind his brother. "How shall we do it this time? The quick switch? Or the full embrace?"

"Quick switch," Prynn decides, hands still gripping Lira's hips. "She's responsive enough that momentum won't be lost."

Wait. What are they planning? My stomach knots as I realize their intention.

Lira seems to understand too, because she begins to struggle. "No," she pleads, voice breaking. "You've claimed me. Let me go. That's the rule?—"

"We create our own rules, little songbird," Blaim croons, positioning himself directly behind his brother. "And we've discovered that sharing produces the most... intense experiences."

What follows makes bile rise in my throat. Prynn grips Lira's hips and, with deliberate intention, begins to withdraw his still-knotted length from her body. She screams—a sound of genuine agony—as the expanded knot stretches her beyond natural limits.

"Wait for it," Prynn instructs his brother, voice tight with focus. "Almost... now!"

With a wet sound that curdles my blood, he yanks his knot free. Blood trickles down Lira's thighs, but before she can even gasp, Blaim surges forward, driving into her in a single brutal thrust. Her body, already stretched from Prynn's knot, takes him easily, though her cry is one of absolute torture.

"Perfect," Prynn groans, his length still hard and glistening with a mixture of his release and her arousal as he moves to kneel in front of her. "Hold her steady, brother. I want to witness her expression while you take her."

Blaim establishes a rhythm the same as his brother, each thrust precise and deep. Lira's body responds—back arching, nipples tightening, moisture gathering despite the blood—but her eyes remain distant, haunted.

I should retreat. I should run. Every instinct screams at me that I can’t possibly take on two alphas. But I can’t tear my gaze from the horror unfolding before me.

"How does she feel around you?" Prynn asks, stroking himself idly as he watches his brother claim the omega they share.

"Divine," Blaim confirms, his pace quickening. "Her muscles keep contracting—I think she’s approaching orgasm.”

"Is that true, little songbird?" Prynn lifts Lira's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Will you come for my brother as you did for me? Your body recognizes its needs, even when your mind resists."

Lira's answer is a fractured sob that might be denial, but her body betrays her—a visible shudder coursing through her as she climaxes around Blaim's driving length. The brothers' identical smiles blend triumph and malice.

"There it is," Prynn purrs, leaning forward to taste a tear from her cheek. "The sweetest melody of all."

Blaim's rhythm grows urgent, his approaching release evident in the tension of his frame. "Going to knot her," he announces, voice strained. "Going to fill her just as you did."

"Do it," Prynn encourages, hand moving faster on his own length. "Let's see if we can make her sing for both of us."

I watch in horrified fascination as Blaim's knot begins to swell, stretching Lira's entrance for the second time. Her sounds grow more desperate as she's forced to take him, her body responding with unwilling pleasure even as her mind visibly seeks escape. When the knot locks fully inside her, both brothers groan in unison—Blaim from his release, Prynn from witnessing it.

"Exquisite," Blaim gasps, still pumping into the trapped omega. "She's squeezing me like she wants to drain every drop."

"She'll have another opportunity soon," Prynn promises, fully hard again despite having just emptied himself. "Once your knot subsides, we transition again."

Again? They plan to pass her back and forth, knotting her in turns? This isn't mere claiming. This is monstrous, beyond even the Hunt's brutal norms.

I need to intervene. Now.

My gaze scans the clearing, seeking anything to disrupt their ritual. A rotting tree limb hangs precariously above them, barely attached to its trunk—nature providing the perfect solution.

The claiming bond flares with sudden awareness—Cadeyrn must sense my intent through our connection. He doesn't want me interfering, doesn't want me risking exposure. Too bad. I may be claimed, but my decisions remain my own.

I spot a heavy stone in the ground near my foot. With blacksmith's strength, I wrench it free and hurl it at the weakened branch. The impact cracks through the forest silence, and the massive limb groans before crashing down.

Chaos erupts. The brothers curse, their perfect synchronization shattered as they dodge the falling debris. Blaim, still locked inside Lira, twists awkwardly to avoid being crushed, while Prynn leaps sideways, creating a swirling vortex of autumn leaves that deflects smaller branches raining down around him.

"An intruder!" he snarls, amber eyes scanning the forest. "Someone interrupts our claiming!"

I press lower into the undergrowth, heart hammering. I need another distraction—something to help Lira escape when Blaim's knot recedes enough for her to break free.

The wind shifts, and Prynn freezes, nostrils flaring as he catches a new scent. My scent.

"Brother," he calls, voice taut with sudden excitement. "Do you smell that?"

Blaim inhales deeply, his expression mirroring his brother's. "Omega. Heat. And... Winter Court magic?"

"A claimed omega," Prynn confirms, amber eyes glowing with lust as he turns toward my hiding place. "But still in heat. Ripe for the picking.”

Both brothers focus on my direction, their hunger palpable. Blaim remains locked inside Lira, but his attention has completely shifted. Prynn steps forward, his length glistening, ready for new conquest.

"Reveal yourself, sweet one," he calls, voice honey-smooth now with false seduction. "We know you're watching. Did our performance please you?"

I remain motionless, weighing my options. If I flee, Prynn will pursue me, leaving Lira with only one brother to manage. If I stay hidden, they might discover me anyway, but Lira might escape when Blaim's knot subsides.

"Perhaps she's shy, brother," Blaim suggests, stroking Lira's back absently while still locked inside her. "Apprehensive about joining our celebration."

"No need for shyness," Prynn croons to the forest. "We excel at pleasuring omegas. Don't we, little songbird?"

Lira doesn't respond, her eyes pleading as she turns slightly toward my direction. She can't see me, but she knows someone might help.

The claiming bond pulses violently, cillae flaring with blue-white light on my skin. Cadeyrn has sensed my danger from wherever he is. The surge of possessive rage flooding through our connection steals my breath.

He’s approaching, fast. But I don't know if he'll arrive in time.

A twig snaps beneath my foot as I shift position, and Prynn's head whips toward the sound, triumph spreading across his perfect features.

"Found you," he purrs, moving directly toward my hiding place with predatory grace. "Don't fear. We only wish to include you in our pleasure."

I need a new strategy. Immediately.

Rising from my hiding place, I step into view at the clearing's edge—trying to keep my distance while keeping the trees at my back.

"Hello there," I call, forcing confidence into my voice. "Sorry to interrupt, but your methods seem excessive, don't you think? One knot at a time is traditional."

Both brothers stare, momentarily startled by my boldness. Their identical amber eyes widen at my copper hair, torn clothing, and the cillae glowing visibly beneath the fabric.

"Look at her, brother," Prynn breathes, appreciation evident. "Have you ever seen such coloring?"

"Copper and fire," Blaim agrees, still locked inside Lira but entirely focused on me. "And those cillae... Winter Court's claiming marks."

"The Prince's exclusive claim," Prynn murmurs, understanding dawning. "Breaking all Hunt protocols."

"Yet still in heat and ripe for the plucking,” Blaim notes, inhaling deeply. "Responding to us despite his mark."

"Still available," they finish together, identical smiles spreading across their perfect faces.

The cillae pulse more intensely across my skin, a warning that makes both brothers hesitate briefly. They exchange a look that chills my spine—not fear, but shared excitement.

"Your Prince violated tradition first," Prynn says, taking a careful step toward me, his arousal heavy and ready. "Exclusive claiming contradicts the Hunt's very purpose."

"Which means," Blaim continues, shifting slightly and drawing a whimper from Lira, "you remain fair game by court standards."

The forest stirs around us, silver leaves rustling with sudden agitation. My claiming bond burns with approaching fury—Cadeyrn racing toward us with his wrath gathering.

"You really want to discover what happens when you touch what he considers his?" I ask, taking a deliberate step backward, drawing Prynn further from Lira. “Nine dead alphas so far. Care to make it eleven?"

Prynn's laugh is genuinely amused. "The danger only enhances the appeal, doesn't it, brother?"

"Indeed," Blaim agrees, his knot finally beginning to recede. "Imagine her between us, Prynn. Could she accommodate us simultaneously? I suspect she could."

Simultaneously? My stomach drops as I comprehend his suggestion. Not just passing me between them, but sharing me at once. The mental image is repulsive and, horrifyingly, accompanied by an unwanted surge of heat between my thighs. Damned omega biology.

"I'm not interested," I state firmly, though my voice wavers.

"Your scent contradicts you," Prynn purrs, advancing another step. "Your body recognizes the opportunity we offer, even as your mind resists."

With a wet sound, Blaim's knot slips free of Lira. Instead of releasing her, he pulls her upright, holding her against his chest like a shield.

"How shall we proceed, brother?" he asks, one hand trailing up to cup Lira's breast possessively. "Should we complete our time with our songbird, or move directly to our copper-haired prize?"

Prynn's eyes gleam contemplatively. "Why choose? We should have both."

"Together," Blaim agrees, excitement coloring his voice. "Imagine the harmonies we could create with their cries of pleasure and pain.”

"Stop," I command, drawing my knife. "Release her."

The brothers laugh in perfect unison, beautiful and terrible.

"She plays protector, brother," Prynn observes, approaching me with unhurried confidence. "How charming."

"Endearing," Blaim agrees, his grip on Lira tightening. "But unnecessary. Our songbird enjoys our attention, don't you, sweet one?"

Lira's eyes meet mine, their depths full of emotion. Shame, terror, but also resignation—she needs for this to end, even if it means sacrificing me to take her place.

"It's okay," I tell her, meaning it. "Run when you get the chance."

Prynn stands close enough now that his scent surrounds me—autumn leaves and spice and alpha musk. Despite everything, my body responds, wetness gathering traitorously.

"You smell divine," he murmurs, close enough to reach me with a single lunge. "Like metal and honey and defiance. I understand why the Winter Prince broke protocol for you."

"But he's nowhere to be found,” Blaim adds, voice dropping to seductive tones. "While we stand before you."

The claiming bond flares so violently that I gasp aloud, cillae illuminating my skin from within. Cadeyrn approaches rapidly, his rage tangible through our connection.

The brothers sense it too, their expressions shifting from confident to wary.

"He comes," Prynn acknowledges, glancing briefly toward the forest edge.

"Which means we must act swiftly," Blaim replies, shoving Lira aside and moving to join his brother. "Hold her for me, Prynn. I want the first taste."

Panic surges through me. Cadeyrn approaches, but not quickly enough. If the brothers capture me...

I back away, hands raised defensively as I retreat toward the forest. "Stay back. I'm not yours to claim."

"But you could be," Prynn purrs, circling to my left while Blaim moves right. "Temporarily, at least. Until your Prince arrives to reclaim his property."

They’re trying to trap me between them. I feint left, then dart right, attempting to break past Blaim toward the denser forest where their larger frames might struggle to follow.

Blaim anticipates the move, blocking my path with preternatural grace. "Where are you rushing to, copper-beauty? Our entertainment has just begun.”

The temperature plummets suddenly. The brothers sense it too, their movements faltering slightly as they turn toward the eastern clearing edge.

"He’s almost here,” Prynn notes.

"Then we should do this quickly," Blaim responds, lunging toward me with startling speed.

I grab a fallen branch, swinging it wildly. The makeshift weapon catches his forearm with a solid crack. He hisses, not in pain but something like pleasure, amber eyes darkening as a bruise forms on his perfect skin.

"She fights," he says, sounding delighted. "I adore when they fight."

"Makes their surrender sweeter," Prynn agrees, moving to flank me.

I'm cornered now, the brothers blocking all escape with their powerful frames. Their matching arousals stand fully erect again, ready to claim, to take, to share me between them in their twisted ritual.

"Final chance to retreat," I warn, branch raised before me. "He'll destroy you both. You know this."

"Perhaps," Blaim acknowledges, unconcerned.

"But what a glorious end," Prynn finishes, his smile predatory and beautiful.

They attack together, perfectly synchronized. I swing my improvised weapon, connecting with Prynn's ribs with a satisfying thud. He laughs.

"Spirited," he approves, grabbing my wrist. "This exceeds even our expectations, brother."

His fingers close around my arm with bruising force, twisting until the branch splinters and falls from my grip. I kick out, connecting with his knee, but Blaim has circled behind me, arms encircling my waist, holding me against his hard body.

"Feel her readiness?" he murmurs into my ear, his length pressing against my back. "So wet with need, despite her struggles?"

To my horror, he speaks the truth. My heat-influenced body responds to their alpha pheromones with instinctive preparation, wetness gathering despite my mind's revulsion. Not from arousal, as they suspect, but for self-preservation. To be knotted without enough slick is a thought too horrifying to consider.

"Release me!" I snarl, fighting their restraint.

"Never," Prynn purrs, close enough that I'm trapped between their bodies, front and back. "We'll make you sing so sweetly, copper-beauty. First for me, then for my brother, then both together."

His hand slides between my thighs, discovering the evidence of my body's betrayal. His smile turns triumphant as his fingers emerge glistening.

"See, brother? Her desire contradicts her words."

"Her body knows its true needs," Blaim agrees, one hand moving to my breast through torn clothing.

I realize with sinking dread that Cadeyrn may not arrive in time to save me. Which means I’m going to have to figure out how to save myself.