CHAPTER ONE
A smattering of bruises, varying in size and int ensity, dotted the curves of Mila’s hips. Light abrasions blemished her legs and torso, all the byproduct of wayward claws and mismanaged canines. Her alphas had been particularly careless lately, their needs increasingly voracious, and now she knew why.
Everything has a price to pay, kid, especially great sex.
When she was younger, she used to think her mother was a cynical bitch. Like most women in their twenties, she was starting to realize that her cynical bitch of a mother may have been right about a few things. Granted, it would have taken a crystal ball for her mom to see where she’d ended up: mated to two werewolves, and soon to be their broodmare.
“Just get in, Mila. It’s not so bad.”
Washing and sunning themselves in the last rays of daylight, Brae, Rosie, and Gem were resplendent. With their beautiful hair, long legs, and shapely bodies, any man who encountered them would probably think that he had stumbled upon bathing sirens.
“I can see my breath,” Mila told Brae. She pointed down at the shoreline. “That water is going to give me pneumonia.”
“You smell like sweat and mating,” Rosie said impatiently. “You really need to clean yourself up before the thrall begins.”
Unlike Brae, who erred on the side of tactfulness, Rosie had a bluntness to her that vacillated between refreshing and irritating. With Mila’s nerves already frayed, she was in no frame of mind to appreciate the she-wolf’s candor.
“If I smell like sweat and sex, it’s because your stupid alphas can ’t keep their paws off of me,” she said, kicking at a pile of gravel. “And I don’t give a crap about the stupid thrall. If you really want me to be clean then take me back to the den and help me heat up some water in my tub.”
Mila was being a whiney brat, and it had very little to do with how cold it was. She had taken her clothes off with every intention of suffering through another icy bath time, only to see the marks on her body and be reminded of the one thing she was trying to forget about.
If Asch was right, then some time tonight, the mating thrall would begin. A week ago, Mila’s biggest concern had been that the two alphas would fight to the death over her. Now that that was settled (she hoped), there was a far more unnerving prospect looming over the horizon: motherhood.
To be fair, before she had left Tye County, Mila had considered the fact that as a werewolf’s mate, she would eventually be expected to have children. Eventually being the operative word. Although she had read Wolves of the Cordilleras from cover to cover and a hundred times over, the memoir was written in the thirties. While it was considered a racy book for its time, a lot of the more lurid details of life in the pack, particularly the details surrounding the mating thrall, had been glossed over or left out entirely.
Going into this, Mila had been under the impression that she would meet a handsome, dominant guy who had the occasional urge to howl at the moon. They would engage in a few weeks of courtship, which would culminate in passionate lovemaking. After a few years, once they were sure they were a ‘good fit’ for one another, she and her alpha would come to the mutual decision to begin a family. Oh, and the den would have running water and electricity.
Instead, Mila had two dominant guys, and while Asch had his moments of seeming moderately human, Caim was pure alpha wolf. Rather than being courted, Mila had sex with both of them by her second day in the pack, and what the three of them did together could never be called lovemaking . Now, a week into her life as a werewolf mate, they planned on impregnating her and everyone expected her to be okay with that? Oh, and there was no damn running water or electricity.
God, she could just scream.
Pale arms came around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She recognized Brae’s minty scent and
A smattering of bruises, varying in size and int ensity, dotted the curves of Mila’s hips. Light abrasions blemished her legs and torso, all the byproduct of wayward claws and mismanaged canines. Her alphas had been particularly careless lately, their needs increasingly voracious, and now she knew why.
Everything has a price to pay, kid, especially great sex.
When she was younger, she used to think her mother was a cynical bitch. Like most women in their twenties, she was starting to realize that her cynical bitch of a mother may have been right about a few things. Granted, it would have taken a crystal ball for her mom to see where she’d ended up: mated to two werewolves, and soon to be their broodmare.
“Just get in, Mila. It’s not so bad.”
Washing and sunning themselves in the last rays of daylight, Brae, Rosie, and Gem were resplendent. With their beautiful hair, long legs, and shapely bodies, any man who encountered them would probably think that he had stumbled upon bathing sirens.
“I can see my breath,” Mila told Brae. She pointed down at the shoreline. “That water is going to give me pneumonia.”
“You smell like sweat and mating,” Rosie said impatiently. “You really need to clean yourself up before the thrall begins.”
Unlike Brae, who erred on the side of tactfulness, Rosie had a bluntness to her that vacillated between refreshing and irritating. With Mila’s nerves already frayed, she was in no frame of mind to appreciate the she-wolf’s candor.
“If I smell like sweat and sex, it’s because your stupid alphas can ’t keep their paws off of me,” she said, kicking at a pile of gravel. “And I don’t give a crap about the stupid thrall. If you really want me to be clean then take me back to the den and help me heat up some water in my tub.”
Mila was being a whiney brat, and it had very little to do with how cold it was. She had taken her clothes off with every intention of suffering through another icy bath time, only to see the marks on her body and be reminded of the one thing she was trying to forget about.
If Asch was right, then some time tonight, the mating thrall would begin. A week ago, Mila’s biggest concern had been that the two alphas would fight to the death over her. Now that that was settled (she hoped), there was a far more unnerving prospect looming over the horizon: motherhood.
To be fair, before she had left Tye County, Mila had considered the fact that as a werewolf’s mate, she would eventually be expected to have children. Eventually being the operative word. Although she had read Wolves of the Cordilleras from cover to cover and a hundred times over, the memoir was written in the thirties. While it was considered a racy book for its time, a lot of the more lurid details of life in the pack, particularly the details surrounding the mating thrall, had been glossed over or left out entirely.
Going into this, Mila had been under the impression that she would meet a handsome, dominant guy who had the occasional urge to howl at the moon. They would engage in a few weeks of courtship, which would culminate in passionate lovemaking. After a few years, once they were sure they were a ‘good fit’ for one another, she and her alpha would come to the mutual decision to begin a family. Oh, and the den would have running water and electricity.
Instead, Mila had two dominant guys, and while Asch had his moments of seeming moderately human, Caim was pure alpha wolf. Rather than being courted, Mila had sex with both of them by her second day in the pack, and what the three of them did together could never be called lovemaking . Now, a week into her life as a werewolf mate, they planned on impregnating her and everyone expected her to be okay with that? Oh, and there was no damn running water or electricity.
God, she could just scream.
Pale arms came around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She recognized Brae’s minty scent and
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