Chapter Forty Six. 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

As the days pass, the tension in the house eases—slightly. I’m allowed back at work, though only under the strict condition that one of the Alphas comes with me. Elias and Theo are wound tighter than anything, their protective instincts on high alert. Every time I so much as step outside, I feel their eyes on me, scanning for threats that may not even exist.

Callum is seeing a therapist again, twice a week. He doesn’t talk much about it, but I see the way it leaves him drained, raw. Some days, he comes home exhausted and disappears into his room without a word. Other days, he lingers in the living room with us, quieter than usual but there. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.

Micah, now finally free from his deadline, has turned all his energy toward Callum. It’s not loud or obvious, but it’s constant. He makes sure Callum eats, even when he claims he’s not hungry. He coaxes him into short walks outside, never pushing, just offering. He sits with him when the nightmares hit, rubbing circles into his back until the shaking stops.

It’s the kind of care Callum has always given us—quiet, steady, unwavering. And now, finally, he’s letting himself be on the receiving end of it.

Some nights, I hear them talking softly in the kitchen, Micah’s voice gentle and Callum’s just barely above a whisper. I don’t eavesdrop, but I don’t have to. I can feel the way Callum is starting to trust that we’re not going anywhere. That he’s safe.

And for the first time since the attack, there’s a flicker of something close to hope.

~~~

The house is quiet, but my mind is anything but. I lie in bed, missing my men, feeling the absence of their warmth like an ache in my chest. Callum and Micah are curled up together in his nest, but I couldn’t bring myself to join them, not with the way I’m feeling.

I don’t know if it’s the connection I share with my Alphas or the fact that, as a pack, we’ve practically taken a vow of celibacy since Callum’s attack. And I get it—I do. Callum needs time. We all do. But knowing that doesn’t make the ache in my core any less unbearable.

I know where they all are. The Alphas are locked away in their respective rooms, drowning themselves in paperwork, working through club budgets and accounts as a distraction. Micah, ever the caretaker, is focused on Callum, and I can’t fault him for that.

But that leaves me, alone with my thoughts, my body thrumming with need that I can’t ignore any longer.

My fingers move over my clit, slow and deliberate, my breath coming in shaky gasps. The memory of Micah’s sweet, blissed-out expression as he comes, the way Theo’s tongue never relents against me, the sheer intensity of Elias when he’s buried deep inside me—it all crashes over me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

And then my bedroom door bangs open.

I jolt upright, heart racing, but before I can process what’s happening, I see him.

Theo stands in the doorway, his gaze locked onto me, dark and hungry. A deep growl rumbles from his chest, sending a sharp jolt of arousal straight through me. I should be embarrassed, caught like this, hand buried in my panties, but I’m already too far gone. If anything, the way he’s looking at me just makes it worse.

He stalks forward, slow and deliberate, shedding his suit jacket as he moves. His tie is the next to go, tugged loose with practiced ease. My breath hitches as he kneels onto the bed, gripping the edge of my blanket and yanking it down, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

He exhales sharply as he takes me in—my parted lips, my flushed skin, the way my hand still lingers between my thighs.

“You dare tease me like this?” His voice is rough, thick with something dark and possessive.

I barely have time to process the words before he reaches down, grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from myself. I gasp, squirming, but he’s too strong, pinning both my hands above my head with ease.

“Theo—”

A sharp rip fills the air, and suddenly my panties are in shreds, tossed aside like they were never there. I whimper, body thrumming with anticipation, but Theo isn’t done. He takes his tie and wraps it around my wrists, binding them to the headboard in a smooth, practiced motion.

“You know the stress I’m under,” he grunts, voice low and dangerous. “The stress we’re under. And instead of coming to me, you choose to take care of yourself?”

He tugs at the knot to make sure it holds, then sits back, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. His eyes never leave mine as he rips it open, fabric straining under his grip.

“I didn’t mean—”

“What?” His lips curve into something dark, something wicked. “Didn’t mean to tease me through the bond until you’re a screaming mess beneath me?”

I shake my head, too turned on to form words. He leans in, his lips brushing mine in the softest, most tender kiss—a stark contrast to the roughness of his actions. And then, without warning, he’s inside me, and I shatter, crying out as pleasure overtakes me.

I am delirious, drowning in sensation as he takes me, again and again, in every way imaginable. There is no guilt, no hesitation—only need, only raw, unrelenting relief.

By the time he’s had his fill, it’s past 2 AM. Theo finally collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms, his breathing still heavy.

~~~~

The next morning, I slip out of bed, sore and thoroughly satisfied, and make my way to the shower. The hot water soothes my muscles as I let it cascade over me, washing away the remnants of the night before. I close my eyes, enjoying the rare moment of peace—until a flicker of movement catches my attention.

Blinking through the steam, I spot Callum sitting on the bathroom counter, legs crossed, head propped in his hands. There’s a familiar look on his face—one I haven’t seen in far too long. Contentment. Amusement. Something else simmering beneath the surface.

I swipe the water from my eyes, tilting my head. “You okay?” I ask, mildly confused but also a little concerned.

His lips curve into a small, lazy smile, one that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

The heat in the room suddenly feels heavier, different.

For the first time in a long while, I feel a flush creep up my neck.

I arch a brow, tilting my head slightly as the steam curls around me. Callum’s expression is soft, content in a way I haven’t seen in weeks. It’s a stark contrast to the hollow, distant looks he’s been giving lately, and the sight of it makes my chest tighten.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask again, reaching for the soap.

Callum hums, his gaze never leaving me. “Better than I have been.”

That tingle of arousal from before lingers, spreading warmth through my body at the way he looks at me—like he’s really seeing me again. Like he wants me.

And that is something I haven’t seen in him for far too long.

I turn to face him fully, letting the water cascade down my body as I study him. His posture is relaxed, legs still crossed, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze now, something playful yet simmering beneath the surface.

“I missed this,” he admits, voice quieter now. “Missed you.”

A flush creeps up my neck despite myself.

“You’ve had me the whole time,” I murmur.

Callum shakes his head, exhaling softly. “Not like this. Not like me.” His eyes drop for just a second, a flicker of vulnerability beneath his teasing expression. “I’ve felt so... disconnected since the attack. Like I wasn’t really here.”

I stay silent, letting him speak at his own pace.

His fingers tap against the counter as he looks at me again. “But last night… I felt something again. The bond, the need, all of it. And this morning, I woke up wanting something instead of just existing.” His lips twitch into a small, almost shy smirk. “And right now? I want you.”

My breath catches.

He sees it, of course, because his smirk widens just a little. “If I joined you in there… would you mind?”

The heat between us shifts, deepens. I step back slightly, an unspoken invitation.

“Not at all.”

He moves before I’ve even finished the sentence.

Callum slips off the counter with effortless grace, his movements slower than usual, more deliberate. There's a hesitation in the way he reaches for the hem of his shirt, like he's testing the weight of this moment. I watch as he pulls it over his head, revealing pale skin marked with old scars and fresh bruises that haven’t completely faded. His fingers tremble slightly as he undoes the drawstring of his sweats, but his gaze never wavers from mine.

The steam wraps around him as he steps closer, his bare feet padding softly against the tiled floor. I can feel the bond thrumming between us, warm and electric, a thread pulling him toward me. He hesitates at the edge of the shower, his expression shifting, uncertain now.

I reach out first.

Fingers brushing against his wrist, grounding him, letting him know it’s okay. That we’re okay.

That’s all it takes.

With a slow breath, Callum steps inside, letting the hot water cascade over his shoulders. His eyes flutter shut for a second, lips parting slightly as the tension in his body seems to melt away. But when he opens them again, they are locked onto mine—dark, searching.

“I missed this,” he murmurs again, softer this time.

I reach up, fingertips trailing lightly over his collarbone, down the center of his chest. “Then take it,” I whisper.

Something shifts.

The hesitation fades, replaced by something deeper, more instinctual. Callum moves before I can take another breath, hands slipping around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My skin tingles where we touch, and I swear I can feel the way his heartbeat stutters before settling into a steady rhythm against mine.

His forehead rests against mine, breath mingling with the steam around us. “You ground me,” he admits, voice barely audible over the water.

I smile, threading my fingers into his damp hair. “And you bring me back to you.”

Callum exhales, a shaky, relieved sound, before he finally, finally closes the distance between us.