Chapter 13

“Cheney, what are you doing?” The scantily dressed girl who had been hanging onto Cheney just moments before, stomped her foot, her hands on her hips. “You are not ditching me for this skank!”

“Shut the hell up, and get out.” Cheney said over his shoulder, not looking at her. He stalked up to Nicholas, who still held me. Nicholas’ grip tightened on me, but he said nothing.

“Your room or mine?” Cheney spoke to Nicholas, but his eyes roamed my body, a slight snarl touching his face when he took in Nicholas’ arms on me. Are they going to share me?

My desire, and the wolf whispering inside me, were taking the place of any tiny bit of sanity I had in that moment. Yes, please, yes. Wynter was ready for whatever the brothers had in mind.

“Mine.” Nicholas said through clenched teeth. I could feel the tension between them. They don’t want the other one to have me, so why aren’t they arguing over it? I thought this, and Wynter answered my question.

They are both connected to you. They know this. They will have to share you forever. To my wolf mind, this made perfect sense, but a tiny seed of doubt began to creep into my human mind.

We were moving towards the house, Nicholas still holding me like I weighed nothing. I could feel everywhere his skin touched mine, and it sent little electric shocks to the warmth between my legs.

I was soaking wet now, and I knew that they both could sense it, and probably smell it as well. We reached Nicholas’ room, and he tossed me on the bed, covering my body with his. His mouth was on mine, before I take a breathe.

He devoured me like it was his last meal. His hands touched my body, up and down my waist, over my breasts, and the tops of my thighs. I felt a second set of hands on me as I felt the added weight on the side of the bed.

Cheney was quiet for once, but I could feel the low growl radiate from the center of his chest. Every now and then the brothers would look away from my body and lock eyes, each time snarling at one another.

I closed my eyes, and just let myself feel. I could tell the difference between their hands. Nicholas’ hands were softer, slightly wider. Cheney fingertips were rough and calloused from the guitar strings, but his fingers were long and slender.

They removed my shirt, taking in the sight of my in my bra. At some point, Cheney’s shirt had been removed as well.

They kneeled before me, chiseled perfection. Look at them… Wynter was in heaven. She was right there with me, enjoying every stroke, every kiss.

I reached up for them, but as I did, I heard the door open, and a wave of anger crashed into all three of us. We turned to see Brian in the doorway, fury radiating off of him.

Brian’s interruption brought me back to my senses. If he hadn’t have come into the room, I would have let Nicholas and Cheney take my virginity.

Horror and embarrassment washed through me and I sat up on my elbows. Cheney and Nicholas both looked to me and growled in disapproval.

“Beryl, you need to get out of here. Right now.” Brian spoke to me, but his eyes and the anger coming out of him were directed at his brothers. “Beryl, go. Now!” He shouted the last word, and it shocked me into action.

I scrambled out from under Nicholas and Cheney, grabbing my shirt and jumping off the bed. On the way out the door I looked up into Brian’s face, and he looked down at me.

He didn’t say anything, but I could see the mix of feelings in his face, concern, frustration, and anger all had a place there.

I rushed from the room, emotions flooding through me. What are you doing? Go back! Wynter raged inside of my mind. She had been so close to getting what she wanted, mated to the brothers, but now she was furious with me.

I can’t. I wont. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I was telling Wynter, but myself too. I was ashamed of how I let my desires take over me. I heard the brothers raised voices behind me, but I didn’t slow down to find out what they were saying.

I ran into my room, which was just next door, and slammed the door behind me. I leaped on the bed and burrowed my face in my pillow, crying in humiliation.

I stayed in my room, hiding for the rest of the day. I finished my homework, humming to myself, trying to stay distracted, but my mind was all over the place.

At dinner time, there was a knock at the door. I opened it a crack and saw Brian standing there. The left side of his face was swollen and bruised. The heated discussion must have turned into a fight.

In his hands, he was holding a dinner tray. “I thought you might want to eat on your own this evening.” He said quietly, not looking up at me. “Thank you, yes.” I whispered, and reached for the tray.

He handed it to me and backed away. He nodded and turned to go. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t bring myself to say a word.

I sat and ate alone in my room, thinking of all the things I wanted to say to Brian. I wanted to thank him, but didn’t know how.

After I was done eating, I sat for a moment, working up the nerve to to walk across the hall to Brian’s room. Finally, I stood and moved quickly. I had to do this before I lost the nerve.

I stood in front of his door for a few moments, I raised my hand to knock, when the door opened. Of course he knew I was out there before I knocked.

“Hi.” I breathed, barely making any noise. “Hey, what’s up?” Brian looked confused. “I just wanted to tell you thank you.” I said in a rush.

Brian jerked back a little in shock. “Oh.” He took a step back and opened the door. “Come in?” He stood to the side to let me in his room. I stepped in.

It was dark and somber, exactly what you would expect of an artist’s room. There was a bright lamp lit up on a desk in the corner. I took a seat next to the desk, and looked down at what he had been working on.

It was a delicate pencil drawing of a woman, her back to the viewer. Each line, each stroke was beautiful, delicate.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, standing next to an expensive looking mini fridge. He opened it, showing an array of fruit drinks, and a carton of milk. “Do you have a glass? I’d love some milk, if that’s ok?” I asked hesitantly.

I watched him as he took a glass out of a cabinet nest to the fridge, his hands were slender and moved like fluid. They were beautiful.

He handed me the drink and sat down in the desk chair, leaned towards the drawing, and picked up his pencil. I leaned over towards him, our faces close.

“Who is she? It’s stunning.” I whispered. “She’s someone special.” He said almost reverently. This made me sad, knowing that the slender girl on the page couldn’t be me. I was twice that size.

I was surprised to find that I wished I was the one he was drawing, the one he thought was special. I realized that I wanted to be more than his friend, that I had real feelings for Brian.

I looked up from the page to find him looking at me, our faces inches away from one another. I could feel his breath on my face.

“Brian…” I started, but he leaned in to me and kissed me delicately. The kiss was soft and sweet. It took my breath away and made me blush. It was the complete opposite of the feelings I had with Nicholas and Cheney. It felt pure, and lovely.

His hand stroked my hair, “Beryl, you know you don’t always have to do what others want you to do.” I closed my eyes, and leaned into his touch.

“Thank you for helping me, but why?” I needed to understand what made him so different from his brothers.

Brian just shook his head and looked down. “You want to know something? You’re the only voice I’ve ever heard. And its beautiful. I’m sorry they don’t want you to sing, its beautiful too.”

He was trembling slightly, like this admission took more effort to say than he’d expected. I took a breath to say something, but just then the door burst open.