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Rowen

L ifting Sierra from the cold tile floor felt like cradling a live ember in my arms. Her skin scorched against mine, droplets of water still running in rivulets down her naked body as I carried her from the bathroom.

Her silver hair hung in wet ropes, dripping onto my already soaked shirt, but I couldn't care less about the state of my clothing.

All that mattered was the precious, trembling woman in my arms.

"I've got you," I repeated, my voice rougher than I intended as I moved through our chambers.

She weighed almost nothing, supernaturally light despite the curves that filled my hands.

I'd carried weapons that felt heavier, yet none had ever been as dangerous to me as this small creature.

The way she clung to me, her face buried against my neck, her breath coming in small, heated pants against my skin.

It tested every ounce of control I possessed.

"Cold," she murmured, despite the fever raging beneath her skin. "I'm cold."

Our bedroom was dimly lit, the artificial twilight of my realm casting long shadows across the floor.

I moved toward the nest she'd meticulously constructed over the past few days, a fortress of blankets and pillows arranged according to some instinctual pattern only she understood.

It dominated our massive bed, a perfect sanctuary designed specifically for what was coming.

As gently as I could manage, I laid her in the center of her creation. She whimpered at the loss of contact, her hands reaching for me as I pulled away.

"Don't leave," she whispered, those silver eyes wide with fear. "Please, Rowen."

"I'm just getting you a towel," I assured her, my hand lingering on her cheek. "I'll be right back."

I returned moments later with one of the plush black towels from our bathroom.

She hadn't moved, still curled on her side exactly as I'd left her, her body trembling slightly.

The sight of her, naked, vulnerable, her silver hair spread dark with moisture across the pillows, made something in my chest constrict painfully.

Sitting beside her, I began to gently dry her hair, moving the towel in careful circles against her scalp. She leaned into my touch like a cat seeking affection, her eyes drifting closed with what looked like relief.

"Better?" I asked, my voice dropping to that register I reserved only for her.

She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "You're so gentle sometimes," she murmured. "No one would believe me if I told them."

A low chuckle rumbled through my chest. "Let's keep it that way. I have a reputation to maintain."

Working my way down her body, I dried her shoulders, her arms, the elegant line of her spine.

Every inch of skin revealed as the water dried away seemed to glow with an inner light, the celestial blood in her veins making itself known as her true heat approached.

She was transcendent, caught between worlds, not quite angel, not quite witch, not quite human.

Something unique and precious beyond measure.

When had this happened? When had this small, defiant creature carved a Sierra-shaped hole in the darkness where my heart should be?

I remembered our first meeting with perfect clarity.

Her standing in that ramshackle shop in Colorado, silver hair cascading down her back, those unusual eyes widening as she recognized what I was.

Most humans cowered before me. Most supernatural beings knelt.

Sierra had looked me dead in the eye and told me to get out of her store unless I was buying something.

She was just thirteen years old at the time.

I'd been captivated immediately.

Then came the years of watching from afar, ensuring her safety while keeping my distance, knowing that my presence would only accelerate the awakening of her powers, and would bring her heat crashing down before she was ready. Her body was much too young for that.

The agony of seeing her cry, believing I'd abandoned her, used her and discarded her...it had nearly broken me. But it was necessary, or so I'd told myself. Better she hated me than suffer the consequences of a premature heat with no proper mates to see her through it.

And now here we were. The moment I'd both dreaded and anticipated for years was upon us.

Her true primal heat, amplified by the angel blood flowing in her veins, would likely push all of us to our limits.

I thought we were out of the woods after her first heat, but the fates decided that we needed to be tested yet again.

"What are you thinking about?" Sierra's soft voice drew me from my memories. Her eyes were open again, watching me with something like wonder as I continued to dry her legs, her feet.

"The first time we met," I admitted, allowing a rare smile to touch my lips. "You threatened to hex me with public flatulence if I didn't buy something or leave."

Her laugh, weak but genuine, was music to my ears. "You deserved it. You were being an arrogant ass."

"I'm always an arrogant ass," I countered, tossing the damp towel aside. "It's part of my charm."

"Is that what you call it?"

I stretched out beside her, gathering her still-warm body against mine.

She came willingly, curling into me, her head finding that perfect spot on my chest where she seemed to fit like she was designed to rest there.

My hand stroked up and down her bare back, feeling the softness of her skin, the delicate ridge of her spine.

"Are you comfortable?" I asked, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

She nodded against my chest. "For now," she murmured, her voice already growing heavy with exhaustion. The heat was draining her energy, her body preparing for the onslaught that would soon consume her completely. "Just...don't let go."

"Never," I promised, and meant it with every fiber of my ancient being.

In my long existence, I'd made few promises.

The universe had a way of making you regret such things when you lived as long as I had.

Promises were shackles, bindings that could be used against you.

But with Sierra, the words came easily, naturally, as if my soul had been waiting millennia just to pledge itself to her.

I felt her breathing deepen, her body growing heavier against mine as sleep claimed her.

These moments of rest were precious. They were the calm before the storm.

Once her heat hit in full force, there would be little time for sleep over the coming days.

Her body would demand satisfaction, her newfound powers would seek expression, and all three of us would be pushed to our limits trying to keep her anchored through it all.

My mind drifted to the prophecy, to what Archer had discovered in those ancient texts.

Sierra was special beyond imagining, a nexus of bloodlines that should never have crossed, powers that had never before combined in a single being.

The daughter of a nephilim, granddaughter to the Angel of Death himself, with witches' blood running through her maternal line.

And an omega, to top it all off, the rarest designation, believed extinct until she came along.

No wonder the Shadow Beast had targeted her. No wonder every supernatural being who encountered her seemed instinctively drawn to her orbit.

Including me. The feared ruler of the Underworld, brought to his knees by a silver-haired witch with too much mouth and not enough fear.

Sierra shifted against me, a small sound of discomfort escaping her lips. Even in sleep, her heat was building, making her restless. Her leg hooked over mine, her small hand fisting in my shirt as if to ensure I wouldn't slip away while she slept.

As if I could.

The truth was, I was bound to her now more thoroughly than any magical oath or contract could have managed.

Whether it was the mate bond, the prophecy, or simply the inexorable pull of her spirit against mine, I couldn't say.

Perhaps it was all three, weaving together into a connection that transcended explanation.

I pressed another kiss to her temple, inhaling the scent of her damp hair.

Beneath the generic soap from the shower, her natural fragrance was intensifying, honey and jasmine giving way to something richer, more complex, with notes that reminded me of lightning strikes and summer storms. Her celestial heritage manifesting in her scent.

Time seemed to slow as I held her, the rhythm of her breathing becoming the only measure that mattered. Outside this room, my kingdom awaited. Demons to command, souls to judge, plots to unravel. None of it seemed important compared to the woman in my arms.

I must have dozed off at some point, lulled by Sierra's steady breathing and the warm weight of her against me.

I woke to the exquisite sensation of her hand sliding down my chest, fingers tracing the ridges of my abdomen before slipping lower to brush against the hardness straining against my pants.

"Sierra," I rumbled, my voice thick with sleep and sudden desire.

She was already awake, her eyes fixed on my face as her palm pressed more firmly against my cock. Those eyes. Gods, her eyes. The pupils had expanded until only the thinnest ring of silver remained around the edges, black pools of hunger that seemed bottomless.

"Need you," she whispered, her voice different now, huskier, laden with a desire so raw it was almost tangible in the air between us. "Please, Rowen. I need you inside me."

The last threads of my control frayed as her fingers worked at the fastenings of my pants, her movements clumsy with urgency.

I should stop her, should insist we wait for Archer and Callum to return.

We'd agreed to face her heat together, as a united front, but the sight of her like this, desperate and aching for me specifically, shredded my resolve.

"Are you sure?" I asked, even as my hips lifted to help her push my pants down.

Her answer was to straddle me in one fluid motion, her naked body poised above mine, her silver hair, now dry and slightly wild, cascading around her shoulders.

The position left her completely exposed to my gaze, her full breasts heaving with each rapid breath, the apex of her thighs glistening with evidence of her arousal.

"I need this," she answered, her hand wrapping around my length, guiding me toward her entrance. "Need you. Before I lose myself completely. While I can still remember who I am, who you are?—"

She sank down onto me without further preamble, taking my full length in one smooth motion that drew matching groans from both our throats. The heat of her was indescribable. Tight, wet, perfect. She enveloped me completely, her inner walls clenching around me like a vice.

"Sierra," I groaned, my hands flying to her hips, steadying her as she began to move. "Fuck."

Her pace was frantic from the start, her body seeking relief from the burning need consuming her. There was no teasing, no building rhythm, just desperate, primal rutting as she chased her pleasure, using my body as the tool to achieve it.

I let her set the pace, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, sure to leave bruises that would remind her of this moment when she looked in the mirror tomorrow.

My tail materialized, lashing behind me with the effort of restraint as I fought the urge to flip her beneath me and pound into her with all the strength my demonic nature could muster.

"That's it," I encouraged as she rode me, her head thrown back, exposing the elegant column of her throat. "Take what you need from me, little omega."

Her movements grew more erratic, less coordinated as her pleasure built.

I could feel her approaching the edge, her inner walls fluttering around me in that telltale way.

Shifting one hand from her hip, I pressed my thumb against her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with her increasingly frantic bounces.

The effect was immediate and devastating.

Sierra cried out, her back arching as her orgasm crashed through her.

Her inner muscles clamped down around me in rhythmic pulses, milking my cock as she shook above me.

The sight of her coming undone, her face a mask of ecstasy, her silver hair wild around her shoulders, was nearly enough to push me over the edge as well.

Nearly, but not quite. I held back, gritting my teeth against the pleasure threatening to overwhelm me. This wasn't about me. It was about easing her discomfort, about buying her a few more moments of clarity before the full force of her heat consumed her.

As she collapsed against my chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks, I heard the door to our chambers open. Archer and Callum had returned, no doubt drawn by the scent of Sierra's arousal and the sounds of our fucking.

Sierra's head snapped up at their entrance, her eyes immediately finding them where they stood frozen in the doorway. The hunger in her gaze was feral, predatory, despite the orgasm she'd just experienced. If anything, it seemed to have intensified her need rather than sated it.

"Need you," she said, the words more growl than speech as she launched herself from my lap, moving with inhuman speed toward them. "Need all of you."

I barely had time to pull my pants back up before she reached them, practically tackling Callum in her desperation. He caught her easily, his arms encircling her naked form as she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him with mindless need.

"Nest," she panted between frantic kisses to his neck, his jaw, anywhere she could reach. "Take me to the nest. All of you. Now."

Archer's ice-blue eyes met mine over Sierra's shoulder, a silent communication passing between us. It had begun in earnest. Her heat was here.

The next few days would push all of us to our limits.