Page 45 of Fight or Fly

SIXTEEN

Leo

JAX AND I held Kambetween us. Shock at what had just happened swirled with the pleasure pulsing through my core from the knot tying us together.

I didn’t think Kam was angry or even upset at Jax’s lapse of control. Of our three alphas, I would have pegged Jax as by far the least likely to slip like that—but I’d also been painfully aware that he was struggling emotionally, reeling from both the loss of his pack and our capture, followed by Irina’s revelation. Of course, he’d had no way of knowing that the ugly scar on Kam’s right shoulder hadn’t succeeded in its aim of destroying his mating gland. In the absence of the swelling and redness that came with an omega’s heat cycle, his left shoulder just looked like any other normal stretch of skin.

Rather than talk the situation to death, we just clung. Jax’s woodsy scent tickled my nostrils, and his big hands wrapped around us both, holding tight. Eventually, the lingering pleasure eased, my body relaxing its grip and allowing Jax’s knot to go down. I eased off him, kissing his lips and Kam’s temple.

“Stay here,” I told them. “I want to clean up a bit, and then I’ll be right back.”

Jax nodded. Kam made a half-aware, sleepy noise.

The facilities were basic—a sink and a toilet—but still miles better than the terrorist cave. There was toilet paper available, along with disposable hand towels, so I took care of business and managed a quick wash. Wetting a couple of the paper towels with warm water, I returned and handed one to Jax. The other, I used to dab at the bite mark on Kam’s shoulder. It was inflamed but no longer bleeding... alpha saliva having done its job to begin the healing process.

Everything I knew about mating, I knew from Kam. Just as the removal of Irina’s mating gland would have disrupted her pregnancy, in the absence of the rest of Kam’s reproductive system, his mating gland would no longer function properly. There would be no genetic pairing, no psychic bond.

At least, that was the theory.

“Any side effects, either of you?” I asked cautiously.

Kam shook his head wordlessly, not lifting it from Jax’s chest. Jax had finished cleaning himself up and refastened his pants one-handed, still holding Kam against his side.

“No,” he said softly. “I don’t feel anything.”

I retrieved my clothing from the floor and pulled it on except for my bra, turning my panties inside out in the absence of clean underwear. I took a certain vicious satisfaction in the knowledge that this room would reek of sex when our captors arrived in the morning. But I was not, in fact, in any hurry to have the guards burst in on us while I was naked.

After throwing the used paper towels away, I rejoined the pair on the bed and pulled the blanket up to cover all three of us. The mattress was honestly too small for this, but I couldn’t imagine sleeping anywhere else.

* * *

The presence of warmbodies next to me combined with my post-orgasmic haze meant that I slept better than I might have expected. Kam was subdued when we finally awoke. Jax was already back to restless frustration, up before us and pacing the room.

“All right?” I asked Kam, stretching cautiously.

“Sore shoulder,” he said. “That’s all.”

I wondered if he would have preferred the mating to take root, even though it had been unplanned. Somehow, it seemed like a really bad idea to ask.

Breakfast arrived—some kind of porridge with paper cartons of orange juice. Scarcely had we finished it when the lock clanked and the door swung open again. Two armed guards entered, weapons raised and pointed at Jax, who rose slowly from his chair.

The fine hair on the back of my neck prickled as a third figure entered.

Kostya Nikolayev looked like a man exercising iron control to hide the fact that he was coming apart at the seams. Frustrated energy crackled around him, and his steel-gray eyes snapped fire. But even in the wilderness of southern Cuba, his charcoal two-piece suit was impeccable.

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