Page 5 of The Night Movers: Season One

Ridley went to his knees in front of Titus, holding out his hands palm up. “You’ll need to take your gloves off.”

Titus studied Ridley closely but made no move to comply.

There was an aura about the man that Ridley found intimidating.

He didn’t fear Titus hurting him. Even the slap earlier hadn’t really hurt, but it had probably looked like it did to the men of the New Guard.

Given the way his body reacted to the slap, he wasn’t even sure he’d mind under… different …circumstances.

No, Titus was intimidating in a different way. When Ridley looked at him, his belly swooped and he just…ached. He craved his time, his touch, his undivided attention. He wanted Titus to see only him, to want only him. The way his soul yearned for the stranger scared the shit out of him.

Alphas couldn’t be trusted.

Not even the good ones.

Ren’s voice rang loud and clear in his head like she was right there beside him.

There are no good ones, Ridley. Never forget that.

Pain raked over his heart at the memory.

He missed her. He missed her like he would miss a limb.

He wasn’t whole without her. They were never meant to be apart.

They had started as one being split in two and they were meant to end that way, too .

Together, at the same time. Side by side. But now, when he thought of Ren, he grew icy in his core, like a phantom passed through him, like he stood at her grave. There was a big gaping hole in his chest and it terrified him.

He shook the thought away. Ren was fine. She was tough. She had to be. She could handle anything.

Ridley met Titus’s gaze, giving his hands a little shake as if to remind him what they were doing. “I need to— we need to be skin-to-skin for this to work.”

Ridley hoped that was true. He’d been embellishing a bit about that particular facet of his gift.

He’d only ever shared a vision once and only with his twin and it had happened accidentally, traumatizing them both.

He’d had this ability long before he presented, but sporadically—it was unpredictable and inconsistent.

Only since his presentation had he gained any type of command over his gift.

What would become of him if he couldn’t do this?

“You can show me,” Diesel said, moving closer and holding up his bare hands.

Ridley gave a stilted nod, but before he could move, Titus gripped his chin and turned his face back towards him. “No. Show me.”

Ridley’s skin burned where he touched him.

His mouth was a desert and his hands trembled as he tried desperately to ignore the way every atom in his body pulled him towards the pale-eyed alpha like his gaze was magnetic.

Ridley wished he could smell him. At least then he might have some…

hint of what the alpha thought of him. Did he hate him?

Was he disgusted by him? Was he as affected by Ridley as Ridley was by him?

Ridley dry-swallowed audibly, then once more placed his hands palm up as Titus tugged his gloves off.

His hands dwarfed Ridley’s, making his appear dainty by comparison.

Ridley jumped as soon as their hands collided, static shock zapping him like the sting of a rubber band, like even the air itself understood how deeply rooted Ridley’s desire for this stranger went.

Titus’s palms were sandpaper rough and covered in ink.

Strange symbols mixed with deep scars covered his fingers, and he had a tattoo on the back of each hand—a skull with Xs for eyes on his left and two overlapping masks on the right.

Recognition scratched at Ridley’s brain.

He’d seen the tattoo on the right before, spray painted on a wall.

The masks of comedy and tragedy.

Ren had said they represented two Greek Muses. One was the muse of tragedy, the other of comedy. He didn’t really know what any of that meant. He wished he’d paid closer attention to her when she rambled. Maybe then he’d know which muse stood beside him tonight.

“Go ahead, Strawberry,” Titus murmured. “Show me.”

The alpha’s voice floated along Ridley’s skin like a feather, making his core tremble.

He let his eyes float shut, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly.

His visions were easier to tap into when he was relaxed, when he didn’t concentrate too hard.

But every muscle in his body was tense, his fight or flight instincts still flooding his brain with chemicals, telling him he needed to be ready for anything.

He tried to access the vision, then tried again. And again. And again. A frustrated whine spilled from his lips before he could stop it. Ridley froze. Even without the alpha’s scents, he could feel the atmosphere change, the air thickening around him. The other three alphas closed in on him.

Ridley eyed each of them warily, unable to stop another distressed sound from leaving him. He was rapidly losing control of what little control he had on himself.

Disappointment knifed through him as Titus pulled his hand from his. Was he giving up on him already? Ridley’s chest tightened, tears of anger welling up behind his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, unwilling to cry in front of these men. Ridley didn’t cry in front of anyone. Ever. Ridley’s gaze followed Titus’s hand as it lifted to his neck, peeling back the scent patch and tossing it to the ground.

A wave of alpha pheromones hit Ridley like a physical blow, rocking him back on his heels.

Then the alpha’s scent flooded his nostrils, rich and bitter, like coffee and dark chocolate.

Ridley swayed towards him without thought, an embarrassingly needy cry filling the space.

His omega wanted to climb this man like a tree.

He wanted to crawl inside him and live there forever.

He wanted to bite and claw at him until there was no doubt to anyone that Titus was his.

That they all were.

Ridley didn’t even register that Titus scooped him up until he was straddling the alpha’s lap, burying his face into the crook of his neck, whimpering against his scent gland as Ridley’s hips stuttered against his.

The others growled. There was no doubt they could smell how wet Ridley was.

Even if they couldn’t, there was no missing the way Ridley fisted his tiny hands in the fabric of Titus’s hoodie or rubbed his lips against the heated skin where his scent was strongest.

Titus was hard, the rigid outline of his terrifyingly large cock pressing against Ridley’s own.

Ridley wanted to rut against him, wanted to tear off his clothes and let these alphas claim him just like in his vision.

Some small voice screamed at him to control himself but he was no longer in control. Was this what a heat felt like?

“Easy,” Titus rumbled against his ear. “Shh.”

“His stress levels are off the charts. You might have to scruff him,” Ryker said.

Titus’s hand slipped into Ridley’s hair, pressing him deeper into his scent gland. “He’s not mine to scruff. He’s not pack.”

Ryker scoffed. “Well, do something before his heart explodes. He’s overwhelmed.”

Another thirty seconds passed, then a wave of calm washed over Ridley, his mind hazy, his body floating on ocean waves. “What’s happening…?”

“You’re not the only one with gifts, Strawberry,” Titus said softly. “Don’t fight it. Just let me in.”

“I’m trying,” Ridley whispered .

Ridley’s breath hitched as Titus’s lips brushed against his throat. “Show me,” he crooned. “Show me what you saw. Show Alpha.”

Show Alpha.

Show Alpha.

Show Alpha.

Ridley bit back an embarrassingly debauched moan.

Alpha. His alpha. They were all his alphas, but Titus was their alpha.

He was the boss, the one they all listened to.

Ridley’s head lolled on his shoulders, Titus’s hand the only thing keeping him in place.

Ridley’s eyes slid shut as Titus threaded their fingers together, palms touching.

He opened his mouth to say this was clearly pointless, but his breath punched from him, his hand clamping down on Titus’s until the alpha hissed like he was in pain.

The images were far clearer this time. They were in a bedroom.

Large but shabby. No windows. A picture of a car in neon lights on one wall and boxing gloves hanging on a hook.

There was a stack of old books on the floor.

Actual books.

They’d banned those years ago. Ridley lay on the bed, his skin snow white against the navy blue comforter beneath him. Just like moments ago, the alphas flanking him in real life surrounded him on the bed as well. Steele, too, and the beautiful man with the lochs.

Ridley was covered in mouth-shaped bruises and fresh bite marks, none of which had penetrated the skin.

Not yet, anyway. There were fingerprint-shaped bruises, too.

On his thighs…on his hips…like they’d held him in place while they used him.

There was cum drying on his skin and sweat and tears dripping into his hairline, but he didn’t look sad.

He looked well fucked. Had they all taken him at once?

He clamped down on his bottom lip to keep from making another embarrassing sound, but his cock kicked at the implication, more slick leaking from his hole .

Ridley needed to get off the alpha’s lap before he embarrassed himself further, but Titus had him in a death grip, one arm around his waist and his other hand holding Ridley’s tight enough to cut off circulation.

When he began to struggle, Titus growled, holding tighter. “Not yet.”

In his vision, Titus was on his knees by Ridley’s head.

He pulled him into a sitting position in his arms, back to chest. He tangled his hand in Ridley’s hair, baring his scent gland.

He looked at each of the other alphas in turn until they nodded.

Ridley cried out as the six alphas sank their teeth into him at once.