“What?!” I snapped, taking several steps back. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I undress him?”

Hunter didn’t look offended.

He looked entertained.

A slow, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest as he watched me retreat like a cornered kitten. “Because,” he said calmly, “he is your husband. I’m asking you to undress him—not fuck him.”

My jaw tightened as I listened to him.

“He’s drunk,” Hunter continued, voice lowering as he stepped closer. “He can barely stand, let alone do anything scandalous. I just need that vomit-soaked mess off him before the smell makes me the next casualty. I'm just asking for your help because let's be honest, undressing another man is disgusting.”

I wrinkled my nose despite myself. He has a point, though.

“But,” he added, eyes glinting, “there is a faster way to get rid of that scent.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what would that be?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he moved.

One step.

I instinctively stepped back.

Another step.

My back hit the cold railing of the staircase.

Before I could shift away, his hand slid to the small of my back, steady and firm. Heat seeped through the thin towel like it wasn’t even there. My breath hitched—

And then his mouth was at my neck.

Not rough.

Not claiming.

Just… deliberate.

His lips brushed the sensitive curve beneath my ear, and his warm breath fanned across my skin before he whispered, “Your scent.”

A shiver exploded down my spine.

“You could drown out his stench without lifting a finger,” he murmured, inhaling slowly. “If you spend the night in my bed.”

My pulse stuttered.

I shoved him hard in the chest. “That’s never going to happen! Just because I married the four of you doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with you!”

He didn’t look angry.

He laughed.

The audacity.

“I was just teasing,” he said, eyes still heated. “But be careful saying that out loud. The mating ritual isn’t something you can out-stubborn.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.

He leaned closer again, but this time he didn’t touch me.

“When it starts pulling at you,” he said softly, voice turning velvet-dark, “I’ll be in my room, waiting… I’ll be happy to help you out.”

My stomach flipped traitorously because I already have an idea what he meant.

“Come on,” he said lightly, as if he hadn’t just set my nerves on fire. “If you’re not sharing my bed, at least help me clean him.”

I huffed but didn’t argue.

“Fine. Let’s get his clothes off before you carry him. They’re soaked. Disgusting. What did he even drink? Acid?” I muttered, already tugging at Viggo’s shirt.

Hunter laughed again. “I’ll follow your lead, Luna.”

The title sent a strange ripple through me. Right… I’m not just this Kingdom’s lost princess, I am also now their Luna.

We stripped the ruined fabric away, and once Viggo was down to his briefs, Hunter scooped him up effortlessly. The display of strength did something to my pulse I refused to analyze.

I opened the ensuite bathroom—empty tub.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Let’s use mine instead. It’s already prepared. The water should still be warm.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue.

He followed me to my room.

The air shifted the moment we stepped inside.

My bathtub was filled with steaming water, petals floating lazily across the surface. A bath meant for seduction… not sanitation.

Hunter gently lowered Viggo into the tub.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “I need to rinse his sins off me, too. You should never let him get that drunk ever again.”

That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “Go. Come back when you’re done and help me move him to his bed.”

He gave me a look that promised something very indecent later… and left.

I swallowed and turned back to Viggo.

He was completely out of it.

I grabbed the scrunchie, poured gel soap onto it, and began scrubbing his chest. He didn’t stir. Warm water slid over muscle and skin, and I focused very hard on the task.

Professional. Detached. Efficient.

When I finished his body, the foul scent lingered.

I leaned closer and sniffed his hair.

“Bingo.”

“What did you even do tonight to end up like this?” I muttered as I pulled the drain and poured shampoo into his hair.

That’s when he moved.

I froze.

He mumbled something incoherent… and then, still half-asleep, his hands drifted downward.

My eyes widened.

“No—wait—”

Too late.

He pushed his briefs down his hips and kicked them away lazily, still dreaming.

The world slowed.

I should have looked away.

I didn’t.

My breath caught as my gaze locked onto what he’d revealed.

Heat flooded my face.

My throat went dry.

And then—

He hardened.

Right in front of me.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Mine is bigger than that.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Hunter’s voice.

I shot upright so fast my towel snagged on the shampoo pump, yanking it loose. The towel slipped, pooling at my feet.

“Fuck!” I grabbed it instantly, wrapping it back around myself as Hunter’s low laughter filled the room.

He leaned against the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung dangerously low on his hips. His hair was damp, droplets trailing down his chest, disappearing beneath the fabric.

He looked like sin given human form.

“Why are you not dressed?!” I demanded.

He raised a brow. “Says the woman who just flashed me.”

“It was an accident!”

His gaze dipped slowly. “Was that an accident, too?” He nodded toward Viggo.

I glared. “He’s dreaming! I was washing his hair!”

Hunter pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer.

Too close.

“I can’t dress,” he said calmly. “There are no clothes. Not in my room. Not in theirs.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I think,” he said, voice lowering, “they assumed we wouldn’t need them.”

My stomach tightened, but I ignored it.

I turned back to rinse Viggo’s hair, refusing to look down again. “Hand me that towel.”

Hunter picked it up and held it out.

Our fingers brushed.

The contact wasn’t static.

It was a wildfire.

Electric heat shot up my arm, into my chest, spiraling downward into my belly, and then further down between my legs in a molten rush that made my knees weak.

I jerked my hand back sharply.

Hunter’s eyes darkened.

“Felt that?” he murmured.

My pulse throbbed in my ears.

“The full moon is peaking,” he continued softly. “The ritual is waking up.”

I didn’t fully understand what he meant.

But my body did.

Warmth pooled low in my belly, thick and dangerous.

“Let’s move him,” Hunter said quietly, gaze lingering on me in a way that made my skin prickle. “Before he wakes up.”

I swallowed and nodded, wiping Viggo dry as quickly as possible—very deliberately keeping my eyes above his waist.

But I could still feel Hunter’s gaze on me.

Heavy.

Hungry.

Patient.

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to run or to let this growing feeling inside consume me completely.

Sybil's POV

"What are you up to?"

Hunter's question came the moment we laid Viggo down on the bed.

I straightened slowly, one brow lifting as I turned toward him. There was an edge in his voice now, sharp, suspicious. Very different from the teasing heat from earlier.

"What do you mean, what am I up to?"

He leaned a shoulder against the bedpost, arms folding across his chest. The movement pulled his towel lower on his hips, revealing more golden skin and hard muscle than any man had a right to possess.

"Well," he said, watching me carefully, "you spent months making the king's guards chase you across half the continent. Fighting them. Escaping them. Refusing to come home." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And then suddenly... You agree. No arguments. No bloodshed. No drama."

His gaze dragged slowly over my face, like he was trying to peel me apart layer by layer.

"So yes," he finished quietly. "I'm sensing a hidden agenda."

I crossed my arms, ignoring the way awareness prickled under his stare. "Did you investigate me? I want to be Queen. That's my birthright. That's all."

"Are you sure?" he said, voice turning deceptively casual, "That this isn't related to the marriage of General Victor Hagen and Princess Astrid Hargarson of Shadowfen?"

My stomach dropped. What does he mean?

"General?" I repeated.

Hunter nodded. "Your ex-fiancé was promoted before the wedding. Shadowfen wanted him 'worthy' enough to marry into their royal bloodline." He tilted his head slightly, studying my reaction. 

"King Erik has no sons. Only daughters. Astrid is rumored to be cursed as well, barren like the other shewolf here and there. So Victor's future is... promising. A family with generational wealth. Power around the world. And you can't deny it, he is a skilled fighter as well."

I didn't like where this was going.

Hunter continued anyway.

"The king granted him permission to take Astrid's sisters as mistresses if necessary. And if that fails..." His lips twisted faintly. "Other noblewomen. Anyone capable of producing a male heir from King Erik's family."

My hands clenched at my sides.

That bastard.

"And," Hunter added lightly, like he was discussing the weather, "your father approached him first."

My head snapped toward him. "What?"

"He asked Victor to help bring you back," Hunter said. "Apparently, you were too... difficult... for the guards alone."

Heat flooded my chest, rage, humiliation, betrayal, tangling together.

"But you kept winning," Hunter went on. "So when it became clear you wouldn't return willingly, Victor accepted Shadowfen's offer instead."

So that's why he replaced me so easily.

Why his promises meant nothing.

Fucking pervert!

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked quietly, searching Hunter's face.

His expression became less teasing, more... intentional.

"Because you deserve the truth," he said. "Because people here have a habit of leaving out important information when it comes to you."

His eyes darkened slightly, almost glaring at him.

"Like your mother," he added. "She never explained how the mating ritual works."

"It doesn't matter," I said quickly, turning away before he could read too much in my face. "I have no plans to consummate anything. You're all free to do whatever you want. Just don't interfere with mine."

"And what are those plans?" he asked, then gestured towards the door.

I followed him into the dining room, reclaiming my seat where my half-finished meal waited. "Stop asking. I'm not telling you."

Hunter moved behind my chair and placed his hands on the table, caging me.

He was close enough that I felt his warmth before he even touched me.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to tell me?" he murmured near my ear as he reached past me for the wine bottle. His chest brushed my shoulder, bare skin grazing my arm. Sparks shot through me instantly. "Two heads are better than one."

He poured wine into my glass slowly. Deliberately.

"I'm very capable," he continued, voice dropping lower, rougher, "of helping you achieve whatever you want."

I picked up the glass, trying to look unaffected. "And why would you help me?"

He leaned closer, his breath brushing the shell of my ear.

"Because," he said softly, "your goals are tied to mine now... whether you like it or not."

"And," he added, lips almost grazing my skin, "I take care of what belongs to me."

My heart slammed. I turned my head sharply to glare at him-only to realize how close his face was to mine.

Our noses nearly touched.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

The air between us thickened.

For a split second... I forgot how to breathe.

"I don't belong to you," I whispered.

Hunter's gaze lifted back to mine, slow and molten. "No," he agreed quietly.

His fingers brushed my jaw, barely there, but enough to send heat spiraling through me. "But your wolf does."

"My wolf is caged," I said quietly. "She doesn't even feel like mine anymore. It's been years since I last sensed her."

Hunter studied me, something softer flickering behind the usual confidence in his eyes.

"So I've heard," he said. "Is that why you're cold toward us?"

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Cold? I just met you tonight, and you expect warmth?" I shook my head. "You've got to be kidding."

I opened my mouth to continue-

But suddenly his hand wrapped around my arm.

Before I could react, he pulled me up from the chair and turned me so I was standing directly in front of him.

He was too close...

"What are you doing?!" I protested, palms pushing against his chest. It was like trying to move a wall.

His other hand slid to my back, firm and possessive, pulling me flush against him. Heat exploded through my body where we touched, bare skin against bare skin through nothing but a thin towel.

"I'm trying to confirm something," he said, voice low.

"Confirm what?"

"That you really can't smell us."

"I can't," I snapped. "I don't smell anything. And I don't believe any of you are my mates. How can someone have multiple fated mates, all Alphas?" I shook my head. "That's ridiculous."

A slow smirk curved his mouth.

"Too bad," he murmured.

Before I could move, his head dipped into the crook of my neck.

He inhaled.

Deeply.

My entire body stiffened.

"Because you," he said softly against my skin, warm breath sending shivers down my spine, "smell like licorice and cotton candy. Sweet... addictive... delicious."

His nose brushed my pulse point.

"It makes me want to taste you," he uttered before licking my skin.

Heat rushed to my face and lower, something I have been feeling since I saw the four of them earlier. But now, that feeling is getting stronger.

"I don't care what you think I smell like," I said, trying to push him away again. "Just leave me out of whatever fantasy you have, and everything will be fine."

His arms tightened around me.

Immovable.

"It's impossible to leave you alone," he said, voice roughening, "because what I want... is you."

My heart slammed. It was as if it wanted to get out of my body.

"If you truly can't smell me," he continued, eyes dark and intent as he pulled back just enough to look at my face, "then maybe we need to try another way for you to recognize your mate."

A flicker of unease and curiosity ran through me.

"What way?" I asked, frowning.

His gaze dropped to my lips.

"This way."

And then his mouth crashed into mine.

The kiss stole the air from my lungs.

I froze for half a second, shock, disbelief, outrage colliding-

But the moment his lips moved against mine, everything inside me shattered into sensation.

Heat.

Pressure.

Electric sparks racing from my mouth down my spine.

His hand slid up my back into my hair, tilting my head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded my mouth as if searching for something.