Aviva
Hot water rolls over my skin as I press my forehead against the tile. The shower is a new addition to our house, built along with the second story and unused bedrooms in the upper level. For me, the shower is absolutely massive–unreasonably so. For Ryan, it was a much needed upgrade from our copper tub downstairs.
He stretches his arms over his head and groans as the scent of lavender soap fills the air, mingling with the steam. The window cut into the tile fogs up, blocking our view of the woods, but the first inklings of morning sunlight are trying to stretch toward Silverhide.
“So,” he says behind me, gently tugging twigs from my curls and tossing them out of the shower. “This hellhound you found… what did it look like?”
“A wolf,” I say, closing my eyes as his large hands drift to my shoulders, working out the knots from being in my wolf form practically the entire night. My breasts begin to ache with fullness but it’s a sensation I’m eager to ignore, especially as his touch burrows into my body, making me feel… other things I’d rather focus on. “Like a cross between a rogue and a shifter, but mutated, of course. Big and ugly.”
“That aligns with what Jacob and the hunters saw. He found it strange that it didn’t approach them.”
“It was guarding something,” I whisper before I can stop the line of thought from leaving my lips.
“Guarding what?”
I shrug, and his hands move down my sides. “I found it in a clearing a few miles away from their camp. The clearing was strange–like, something had been there at one point, but I couldn’t find any ruins. It gave me a weird feeling and the way the hellhound died was almost like a natural death… due to age. It’s like it laid down and took its last breath there.”
Ryan turns me around to face him, concern lighting behind his eyes. He looks handsome with his dark, curly hair wet and sticking to his face. He grew his beard out again over the winter after the war but has been shaving it clean every couple of days. He’s clean shaven now. I reach up to run my knuckles over the sharp line of his jaw then graze my fingertips down the column of his throat.
“I like to think dying of old age is a possibility for those creatures,” he says quietly over the rush of the water.
“We both know that’s not possible,” I reply, meeting his eyes. Hellhounds live forever, trapped in their immortal, devastated bodies.
“Maybe things are changing,” he says, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.
His proximity is also intoxicating but more so when he’s completely, utterly naked. I have a hard time focusing as my hands slide down his slick chest, over the firm muscles of his abdomen, and lower….
Ryan groans, moving his hands from my waist to cup then squeeze my ass, as I press the heel of my hand down his length. His cock stands immediately, harder than steel, and I only have a heartbeat to inhale a breath before his mouth is on mine, ravenous.
He built a ledge into the shower for our soaps and shampoos, but I found out rather quickly that he had something else in mind when he designed it. Our height difference makes this rather tricky, unfortunately, unless we’re in a bed, or on a couch, or if he has me sprawled over a table. In one swift motion, he hauls me onto the ledge, ignoring the bottles of soap that fall around his feet, and spreads my legs wide.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss while his hands slide up my soapy thighs. He growls in satisfaction when his fingers find my entrance–wet and hot for him. Ready for him.
“One day, I’ll have time to lay you down and fuck you like I want to,” he rasps against my lips. “With candles and shit.”
I choke out a laugh that quickly turns to a moan when he drags the head of his cock through my folds. We both tremble. “You know that doesn’t matter to me,” I whisper, my breath hitching as he enters me, inch by inch, stretching me wide to the point of fullness.
I doubt I’ll ever get used to his size, even after giving birth to his giant baby, but still, no one can make me feel the way Ryan can. My body was made for his–and vice versa.
“Goddess,” he curses, groaning as my muscles flex around his cock. “Aviva, I want to do this all day, all night. I want to make you come until you’re spent–”
I gasp as he pulls out and thrusts deep, hitting the spot that makes my toes curl. I wrap my legs around his waist on impulse, leaning back to take him deeper, to give him better access to everything he desires.
Any stress and anxiety I felt on my return to Silverhide vanishes, replaced by that tight, coiling tension in my muscles and a deep ache that edges on desperation as Ryan thrusts deeper, his pleasure loud and untethered. He nibbles my earlobe, whispering filthy things against my skin as my body begins to unravel, pleasure washing through me in waves.
He groans deep in his throat and slams his hand against the tiled wall as my inner muscles spasm and clench. I bite down on my lip to stop from screaming, my legs locked around his waist, my head rolling back and my eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
“Good girl,” he rasps, jerking into me once, then twice, then pulls out and spills himself on my belly.
I can barely catch my breath. He leans in to kiss me again–full and tender, brushing the words, “I love you,” over my cheek, into my hair.
I can’t choose just one reason I love Ryan so much, but his gentle, loving care is at the top of my list. He washes my entire body. He lathers shampoo through my curls and untangles them, brushing them out as the water pours over us, washing my late night journey down the drain.
Afterward, dressed in a robe with my hair wrapped tight in a towel, I creep into our bedroom, where Lexa is still fast asleep, sprawled in the center of the bed.
I curl up beside her, waking her gently to nurse, and notice she’s running a little hot as she nurses, not even bothering to open her eyes.
Ryan creeps into the room to grab some clothes. I turn to him, concern ripping through my body as I press a hand over Lexa’s forehead. “Is she sick? She’s hot.”
“She seemed fine last night,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he pulls a shirt over his head then pulls a belt through his jeans. He walks over, cupping Lexa’s head. “She is warm.”
“What–what do we do?”
“Shifters rarely get sick,” he mutters under his breath.
“But she’s–” I look down at Lexa, confused. She’s more peaceful than usual. “Was she like this last night?”
“She was calm and slept through the night. I thought she was just getting over her separation anxiety,” he explains. Lexa unlatches, sighing deeply before slumping back into sleep.
This is abnormal behavior on her part, and we both know it.
Ryan bursts into action, scooping her up and wrapping her in a blanket. I roll out of bed and quickly dress, ignoring my wet hair and rushing out the door following my mate, struggling to keep up with his long stride.
The village is just waking for the day. Sunlight hasn’t reached the valley yet as we move under the cloak of amber light falling from lanterns, but he doesn’t turn toward the new healer’s cottage that was built this spring.
His pace is just under a brisk jog as he bee-lines toward the cabin where Misty and Cole are staying.
He knocks once, raising his fist to knock again, but the door swings open, revealing Cole, mussed from sleep but wide-eyed as he looks at Ryan, then down at Lexa.
“She’s running a fever,” Ryan rushes out.
Cole nods, motioning us inside. Misty peeks out of their bedroom holding Adrian, looking skeptical with hooded eyes like she just woke up, but her expression shifts when she notices it’s us.
Ryan hands Lexa to Cole, and I have a visceral reaction to seeing Lexa in his arms.
Memories of the war and what happened prior sprint through my head. I remember the day we gathered in the kitchen in Crescent Falls after finding out Cole planned to use Misty as a breeder. I remember seeing her for the first time after her abduction, screaming in that pink gown while Ryatt and Isaac tried to calm her down… and she shifted for the first time.
Cole isn’t the monster he was forced to be, but I don’t know him that well yet. He’s a physician. A doctor. He’s here to learn the more traditional shifter medicine Eastonia is known for… but I still imagine him in the black cloak Misty described–with a dead look in his eyes.
Right now, he’s wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants, his curly blond hair sticking out at all angles as he lays Lexa on their kitchen table, unwrapping her blanket.
“Misty, can you please grab my kit?” he asks, looking up at his mate, who nods and hands Adrian to me before disappearing back into their bedroom.
I rest Adrian against my shoulder and absently pat his back while Cole examines Lexa, who has barely even started to wake up from the longest sleep of her life so far.
“She is running a fever,” he confirms, glancing at me and Ryan. “It’s nothing to be worried about.”
“She shouldn’t be,” Ryan says as Misty reappears with a large metal box balanced in her arms. She sets it down, opens it for Cole, and steps to the side while he pulls out a variety of instruments I can’t begin to name.
But then Lexa sputters a cough.
Panic echoes through my body. I grab Ryan’s hand. He squeezes.
Cole listens to Lexa’s chest. I feel Misty gently taking Adrian back, cradling him as we all watch Cole work. Finally, he wraps Lexa up tight, turning to me with a resigned look in his eyes. “Is she nursing like normal?”
“She did, just recently,” I say, but my voice cracks. “I was gone last night–”
“She took a bottle around ten in the evening and fell asleep right afterward and slept through the night for the first time ever,” Ryan cuts in, sensing my rising guilt.
“I was gone,” I sputter. “I shifted and went hunting–”
“She’s okay,” Cole assures us. “It’s probably a little respiratory virus.”
I turn to Misty. “Your powers–”
“On someone this young, it’s not a good idea,” Cole says before Misty can answer. “It’s better that we let her ride this out, but I’ll check on her again today. If she stops nursing, we have a problem, otherwise… the fever will burn out.”
But Cole has an odd look in his eyes as he turns to Ryan and asks, “Has anyone else been sick lately? With a cough and fever?”
“It happens from time to time, but rarely in children,” Ryan says. It’s true. It’s incredibly difficult for shifters to get sick, and when we do, it’s usually not that serious.
“I’m just asking in the event this is contagious.”
I close my eyes. Several years ago, a sickness swept through Endova at the tail end of our harvest season. It was a mess. Everyone got it and was in bed for a week, at least, meaning half of our harvest went to waste, and we barely made it through the winter.
After last winter and the war, our supplies are minimal at best. We’ve had to work insanely hard to restock for this coming winter and to trade at the harvest festival.
As a pack, we can’t afford to miss that much work.
As parents, we can’t sit here and let our baby suffer.
“I could… I could nurse her,” Misty says quietly, glancing at Cole before turning to me. “My healing powers might transfer through my milk. It wouldn’t overwhelm her little body like my full powers might.”
Cole nods his agreement. “That's a great idea. If you’re all right with it.” He turns to look at us, and I… I can’t decide.
Ryan looks down at me.
“Okay,” I whisper, and Lexa’s feverish body is handed to Misty, who hands Adrian to Cole, and I sit on the couch and watch–and wait.
At some point I fall asleep and wake up to Lexa tucked snug in my arms and the room empty and quiet.
Misty steps out of their bedroom with Adrian, the two of them now dressed for the day. I run my hand over Lexa’s head, noticing that she’s still warm to the touch. My heart sinks.
“Where’d the guys go?” I ask. The sun is high in the sky now, so it’s likely just past noon.
“A few others are sick. Cole confirmed it, and Ryan is doing whatever Alphas do in this situation.”
I lean my head back against the couch and close my eyes, the memory of the hellhound and the strange clearing slipping away, replaced by worry for my pack.
Misty sits down beside me, groaning softly.
And we sit, and wait, for news.