Page 5 of Ours
What the fuck?
Cole's pulse hammered as his brain tried to process it. Two apex predators, cooperating instead of tearing each other apart over prey. Over him.
The black wolf huffed softly, and the copper one's ear twitched in response. Some kind of communication Cole couldn't understand. An agreement already made.
Like he was prey they'd already decided to… share?
The thought sent heat rushing through him, confusing and wrong and impossibly arousing. This wasn't how the hunt worked.
They circled him, closing the space inch by inch. The black wolf moved with contained power, every shift of muscle smooth and commanding. His companion mirrored him, leaner but no less dangerous, the two locked in silent rhythm.
Cole could feel their eyes on him, cataloging every tremor, every hitch of breath. Reading him like a book.
He should've been fighting, should've been trying to escape.
Instead, he found himself swaying forward, waiting to see what would happen.
3
Blake ran through the woods,his blood singing with the thrill of the hunt. The cold night air burned in his lungs, crisp and wild, filled with the scent of earth, pine, and possibility.
Luca ran beside him, a shadow moving in perfect sync, their strides matching without thought or effort. They'd been doing this for years—hunting together, fighting together, living as one unit split between two bodies.
The pack never understood it. Neither did their past lovers.
Everyone expected them to compete. To snarl and snap over territory, over mates, over everything. But Blake and Luca had sworn their brotherhood with blood and blades when they were barely more than pups, a bond more powerful than if they were siblings. The world could burn, and they'd still have each other's backs.
Which was why they'd been alone for so fucking long.
Every potential mate had started the same way. "I love how close you two are," they'd say. "It's beautiful, really. I'd never want to come between that."
Lies. Every single time.
The red-haired wolf from three moons ago had lasted two weeks before he started with the questions. "Does Luca really need to join us every night?" Then came the manufactured emergencies that only Blake could help with, the sudden illnesses when Luca planned to visit. By the end, he'd actually said the words: "He has his own life, Blake. He doesn't need you anymore."
As if Luca was some childhood toy to be outgrown.
The human two years before that had been subtler. She'd played them against each other, whispering to Blake about how Luca looked at her, suggesting to Luca that Blake was getting possessive. When her game fell apart, she'd turned vicious. "Fine, keep your codependent little brotherhood. No one's ever going to want both of you damaged freaks anyway."
Maybe she was right.
Blake and Luca weren't just looking for someone to fuck. They wanted what other wolves had—someone to protect, to spoil, to come home to. Someone who'd let them both bring gifts, share heat, offer comfort.
Not taking turns like some custody arrangement, but together. Equal.
A mate who understood that loving one meant loving both, that their bond made them stronger, not divided.
The scent of human sweat and adrenaline curled through the air, teasing, pulling them deeper into the forest. The mating run was full of offerings—mates ripe for the taking. Blake had already caught whiffs of three different appealing humans, each one flooding with pheromones and fear in equal measure.
He hadn't pursued any of them.
Neither had Luca.
They were looking for something specific.
Luca's light-furred form brushed close, his amber eyes flicking toward Blake in silent question. Blake huffed a breath. Not yet. None of them felt right.
Then, on the cold night wind?—
