Luca gripped the arms of his chair, clearly fighting his instincts. He was trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on Ryker’s throat with an intensity that made the wolf’s blood sing. Before he could think better of it, Ryker moved from his chair, kneeling beside Luca.
“R-Ryker?” Luca’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Shh,” Ryker soothed, positioning himself so his throat was level with Luca’s lips. This close, Luca’s scent was intoxicating—cherry blossoms and midnight rain wrapping around Ryker like silk. He could feel the heat radiating from the boy’s frame, could hear the quick, desperate rhythm of Luca’s breathing.
Ryker’s wolf was entranced by every detail—the way Luca’s silk black hair fell over his forehead, how the boy’s chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, the delicate flush painting Luca’s cheeks. Luca was so small compared to him, yet something about the boy’s presence made Ryker’s skin feel too tight, too hot.
“I…” Luca breathed, one small hand coming up to rest against Ryker’s chest. The touch sent electricity arcing through Ryker’s body, awakening something primal and hungry he’d never felt before. “Are you sure?”
In answer, Ryker tilted his head farther, exposing more of his throat. His wolf purred in anticipation as Luca leaned forward, the boy’s warmth and softness overwhelming Ryker’s senses. Luca’s breath ghosted across his skin, and Ryker had to bite back a groan.
The first touch of Luca’s fangs was tentative—testing, tasting. Heat pooled in Ryker’s belly, a strange fire beginning to build in his blood. This close, he could smell the sweet edge of Luca’s hunger mixing with something else, something that called to Ryker’s very soul.
“Please,” Luca whispered against Ryker’s skin, and the sound shot straight through him like lightning.
“Take what you need, sugar fang,” Ryker breathed, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Luca’s head. The boy’s hair was silk against his fingers, just as soft as he’d imagined.
Luca’s fangs sank into Ryker’s throat with exquisite precision. The initial sting melted immediately into a pleasure so intense Ryker’s vision blurred. His wolf howled in triumph and satisfaction as Luca drew the first pull of blood, the fire in Ryker’s veins turning molten.
This was right. This was perfect. This was…
Something new stirred in Ryker’s chest, a heat he’d never experienced before. It spread through him like wildfire, making every nerve ending sing with awareness of Luca—his taste, his touch, his very presence. Ryker’s wolf recognized it instinctively, even as his human mind struggled to understand.
Luca made a small, desperate sound against Ryker’s throat as he drank, his free hand fisting in Ryker’s shirt. Each pull of blood sent waves of pleasure through Ryker’s body, the heatbuilding to an almost unbearable intensity. His wolf was lost in the sensation, in the rightness of Luca’s mark on their skin.
Ryker’s hand tightened in Luca’s hair, his other arm wrapping around the boy’s waist to steady them both. Luca was so small in his embrace, yet he fit against Ryker like he was made to be there. Every point of contact between them burned with that strange new fire, making Ryker’s head spin with need and recognition andsomethinghe couldn’t quite grasp.
Another draw of blood, another wave of pleasure. Ryker’s wolf was drowning in Luca—his sweetness, his warmth, the tiny sounds the boy made as he fed. The fire in Ryker’s veins pulsed in time with Luca’s drinking, like their heartbeats were syncing to the same desperate rhythm.
“Luca,” Ryker groaned, not sure if he was begging him to stop or continue forever.
Luca pulled back with a gasp, lavender eyes glazed and lips stained crimson. The sight of his blood on Luca’s mouth hit Ryker like a physical blow, making his wolf surge with possessive pride. Two perfect puncture marks on Ryker’s throat throbbed in time with his racing heart.
“I…” Luca blinked, looking dazed. A drop of blood clung to his lower lip, and it took every ounce of Ryker’s control not to lean in and taste it. “That was…”
The fire continued to build between them, making the air thick with tension and unspoken hunger. Ryker’s wolf recognized the signs now—this wasn’t just blood hunger or physical attraction. This was something older, deeper, more primal.
“Luca?”
Zane’s voice made Luca jerk back from Ryker so quickly he nearly toppled his chair, but Ryker’s hand steadied the boy’s waist. The fire in Ryker’s blood hadn’t subsided, and from theway Zane’s nostrils flared, he could smell both the spilled blood and what had just transpired.
“He knocked over his lunch,” Ryker explained, carefully helping Luca settle back in his chair. Ryker’s fingers lingered on the boy’s waist, unwilling to break contact completely. “He was hungry.”
“I’m fine!” Luca squeaked, his cheeks flaming red.
“Let me call Harrison for another blood bag,” Ryker said softly.
“No!” Luca squeaked. “It’s fine, really! I’ll just… I’ll get it myself.” He scrambled up from his chair. “You both probably have work and I’m being a bother and?—”
And with that, the young man practically flew from the garden, leaving behind only the lingering scent of cherry blossoms and want.
Silence stretched between the brothers as they watched him go. Finally, Zane sank into the chair Luca had vacated, running a hand through his hair.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Ryker asked quietly, settling back into his own seat.
Zane’s eyes met his, a knowing look passing between them. As alpha and second, they’d shared this connection for centuries—every significant emotion, every powerful sensation echoing between them. It had always been this way with the three brothers, a bond deeper than blood.
“I felt your wolf’s satisfaction,” Zane said finally. “That… pleasure. Just like you probably felt mine yesterday in the garden.” He touched his own throat unconsciously, where Luca’s marks had already healed.