Page 26 of The Wolf and the Witch

Geralt tightened his grip around Brice’s waist, his own balance mourning the extra support of Rex’s barely upright form. His ears picked up the front door being swung open with enough force to bang against a wall. He commanded his leaden feet to carry him and Brice forward. Gabriel’s scent carried to him on a spare breeze, his Beta’s feet pounding down the stairs.

Geralt couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Where’s Sebastian?” Gabriel asked, heavy breaths leaving him in a rush.

“We couldn’t find him.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth, souring his stomach. His body ached, wounds itched, and he needed to lay eyes on his mate.

“Geralt—”

“We’ll send a party to look for him. Tomorrow. Right now, I’d like to go inside and hold my mate. Fetch Dr. Andrews so our wounded can get tended to, will you?” Red bled into his vision, but he kept the violence out of his voice. None of the mistakes that occurred over the last few days laid at Gabriel’s feet.

Gabriel’s face twisted with grief, but he gave Geralt a solemn nod, striding off without uttering another word. Fuck, Geralt lacked the patience to debrief his Beta. Ryker sunk his claws into Geralt’s mind, pain blooming across his body. Gritting his teeth, he helped Brice limp forward, taking one step at a time. On another day, he’d worry about the blood drawing predators, but the way his canines ached, he’d tear into anything trespassing into his territory. As soon as his body fully healed.

The stairs groaned beneath the four Lycan’s weight, but they made it up the stairs with no one collapsing. Geralt’s eyes felt dry as sandpaper, exhaustion slowing his steps. Every movement threatened to rip over scabbed wounds. Brice panted against him, leaning more of his weight on Geralt.

Geralt pulled his packmate forward, ignoring the drag of his feet trailing blood, staining the wood varnish. Gunter grunted behind them, bearing nearly all of Rex’s weight. The deep, uneven breaths of Rex left Geralt with the suspicion the male passed out again from blood loss.

Helen stood in the doorway, tears brightening her eyes. She ran the last few feet between them, throwing her arms over Geralt and Brice. Tears dampened his neck, her body trembling against his. He brought a weak arm across her torso, inhaling her rosemary and lemon scent. Home. To him, Helen smelled like home.

Mate, Ryker snarled, but Geralt felt the beast’s aggression ease from the comfort of Helen’s embrace. Unable to resist the impulse, he turned his head, letting his tongue collect some of Helen’s tears, tasting her scent and letting it soothe his beast even further. She chuckled, pulling away with a watery smile. She didn’t birth them, but their bond transcended blood. He couldn’t count how many wounds she’d stitched for him, tantrums she’d soothed, or sleepless nights she’d spent tending to him when the impending shift tormented his body.

Mother, Ryker purred, hostility draining from the beast. A mother’s touch held power, he’d learned long ago.

“Greta’s in the living room, helping with some of the minor injuries,” Helen informed him, stepping forward again, motioning to take some of Brice’s weight. Geralt’s lips twisted into a frown, but he loosened his grip on the male.

The five of them made slow progress from the front door, shuffling through the foyer, and halting in the living room’s archway. Several heads shifted in their direction.

Glass shattered and Geralt’s heart loosened, Greta racing across the room, long dark hair flaring out behind her. Without thinking, Geralt dropped his hold on Brice, striding forward to meet his mate half way.

He growled, mouth crashing into hers, arms lifting her in the air until her legs wrapped around his waist. His claws dragged along her scalp, pressing her closer, needing beneath her skin. The bond throbbed between them, desires bleeding into each other. Geralt turned, walked them toward the archway, shoving Greta against a wall.

Claim, Ryker urged. The beast didn’t need to say it twice.

?*

* Skip next chapter to avoid spice.

Song of choice: Drip Off - Austin Giorgio

Claimed

Geralt’s hard cock pressed insistently against Greta’s damp panties, his hips making slow, deliberate thrusts. Her pebbled nipples scraped along the material of her bra, heightening her arousal. She felt eyes on them and pulled her mouth from his.

Through swollen lips, she gasped, “Geralt, we can’t—” His mouth cut off her protests. Calloused fingers slid against her thigh, aiming for her pulsing core. She shook her head, dislodging his mouth again.

“Geralt—”

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his husky voice sliding along her nerve endings. She nodded with wide eyes, wondering where he was going with this. Her eyes drifted shut, and she moaned when his fingers slid along her slick folds. Her hips eagerly thrusted toward his fingers, forgetting why she was protesting.

Soft lips caressed her cheek, breath fanning her warm skin. “Do you know how Lycans claim their mate? To welcome them into the pack?” She moaned, shaking her head, chasing the pleasure his talented fingers offered her.

“They rut them in front of the entire pack.” Greta gasped, eyes snapping open as pleasure slammed into her, walls clenching on air. She needed him inside of her like she needed her next breath.

“Geralt,” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision. His lips lifted into a satisfied smile. “I’ll take care of you, mate. Just keep those pretty eyes on me.” His lips teased hers, a featherlight touch. “Imagine it’s just you and me here. Just let go and trust me.”

A whimper slipped from her lips when she felt the tip of his cock teasing her opening. She moaned when the head breached her, tightening her legs around his waist. Geralt groaned, slamming one hand near her head. His eyes locked with hers and she felt helpless to look away. He gazed into her while slowly sliding his cock home, stretching her with his girth.

She clenched around him, moans erupting from her with each delicious inch scraping her walls, edging her closer to exploding around her mate’s cock. Her eyes must’ve closed in bliss because they popped open when canines scratched against her throat.

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