Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2), Sam Hall [leveled readers .TXT] 📗

driving all thought from my mind. In my unfocussed stare, the shadows on the wall shifted and changed, showing leaves and branches wavering in the wind and then, them.

She rode her wolf lover as I did mine, my body moving as hers did, or was it just a shadow of mine on the wall? I cocked my head, unable to tell, but then he moved. The two of them moved, silent witnesses to what was happening, their hollow gaze directing mine. He lay beneath me, broken open and aching by me, but he looked so fucking beautiful.

“Baby…” he said, stroking hands down my body, as if to soothe me. “You’ve taken all of me.”

“Not all,” I croaked out. “Not yet.”

I felt my fangs snap down as I began to move in earnest, only able to move in short strokes, the great lump inside me dragging over something that flared hard with every pass.

“Yes, Paige…” he hissed, over and over with every stroke as my hips snapped faster and faster, as I squeezed him tighter, racing towards something, but what? It was him, of course. It felt like I’d always been on a collision course with this moment, the realisation hitting me when his head turned away, baring that muscular column of his neck. He surrendered, opened himself to me, making himself as vulnerable as a wolf could. I dropped down low, my hips still working, feeling it swell inside me. Between my legs, in my chest, my body couldn’t decide, the whole of me rising up to meet the whole of him.

I sobbed when my teeth sunk into his neck. This was the homecoming I should always have had. His arms snapped around me, holding me hard, his voice calling my name over and over, a prayer, an invocation. He raised our teenage relationship up from the dead and recreated it as something entirely new.

He was my mate.

Tears rained down on his skin, diluting the blood I shed as I pulled back, but not for long. He wouldn’t let me, would never let me now, I realised. Something hard and desperate was in his eyes as he yanked me down beside him, the pop of his knot pulling free a little too abrupt, but I was caught up in the cage of his arms, his body cradling mine. He stared at me like he couldn’t believe I existed and then pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to my forehead.

“Is this what it was like?” Lorcan asked. I looked up reluctantly, unable to do anything else, held fast as I was. “When she bit me, was that what it was like?” His eyes shone, a single tear falling free. “Was it?” he barked harder when no one responded.

“Yeah,” Zack replied, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, looking impossibly tired. Somehow, whatever had happened had taken something out of all of us. “It’s… I dunno about other blokes, but it tears me in two every time. It’s like all the bullshit of day-to-day life is torn away so fucking completely and there’s only her. Her and her love, her heart, her mate.”

“I…” Lorcan scrubbed his eyes dry and then looked down. “I know you two are having a moment right now, but I really need to touch her too.”

Declan smiled the slow lazy smile of a well satisfied cat, pressing his nose into my hair before rumbling, “You all do. I can feel it now. There’s enough to go around.” His eyes closed at that, as if those words were what he needed to hear and say. I felt Lorcan first, slotting his body against mine, then the others climb onto the bed, settling around us. I closed my eyes, just for a minute, and breathed my pack in.

Chapter 38

I woke up to darkness, stillness, and the sounds of my mates sleeping. My mouth was dry, my bladder protesting loudly, so I carefully extricated myself from my love’s arms and tiptoed out of the room.

I saw the light on in the kitchen when I came out of the bathroom, so I threw a towel around myself and walked out to find Mason having a quiet beer, gazing out the big glass doors to the dark landscape beyond. His expression didn’t change when he saw me, but his eyes warmed, watching every step I took, observing in particular my precarious grip on my towel. I walked into the kitchen, feeling a little odd about stepping into his space.

Would we ever let go of the past? Would it always feel like someone else was standing between us? He just watched me, raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a slow swig before setting it down on the bench and moving closer. His movements were deliberate, careful, one hand going to the bench behind me so he could lean in, the sour, yeasty smell of beer on his breath fanning across my lips. I froze as he moved in, as if at any moment I could do something to fuck this up all over again. He shook his head, like he could see my thoughts, and then pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t a deep, hungry kiss, more a pressing, claiming, reorienting thing, then he pulled away all too quickly.

“You did well with Dec,” he said. I blinked, taking a second to process what he was saying. “You’re building a strong pack. Your dad would have been proud.”

Words froze in my throat. I wanted to ask where he fit in all that. Wasn’t it our pack? But as was often the case with Mason, I couldn’t force the words out. When I was pissed, sure, I had plenty to say then. But not in the quiet stillness.

“But you’ve got another mate who needs you.” He pulled back somewhat, retrieving the beer and using it to point out the glass door. “Micah, he doesn’t have the years with you. The memories, the mistakes, the growing up with you. He just