taste him root to tip. But heat crawls up the inside of my thighs as I stare at the virile force in front of me, and I’m not even sorry for it.
“Reap,” Tyran calls out, and the delta immediately moves closer, despite knowing what’s going to happen to him.
Tyran begins to circle him just like he did Warrik, but a flicker of surprise moves through me when Reap gives the alpha his back, refusing to stalk Tyran. At first, I think the delta is giving up, that he’s accepting his punishment and refusing to make it harder for Tyran to do what he’s about to do. But as I watch Tyran seize him by the neck and repeat what he just did to Warrik, I note that Reap’s reaction is totally different.
My wolf wants to snarl at the delta to fight, to value his life enough to battle for it, but Tyran’s words are still floating in the air, and I’m trying to wrap them around what I’m seeing.
This is about trust.
I stare at the cogent alpha as he holds the shifter under the water, and it hits me. Reap isn’t attacking or struggling because he’s not wolf enough, but because he’s submitting. He’s showing his alpha that he can do what he wants, that he can punish Reap however he sees fit. Whatever Tyran decides to do, Reap will take it. He won’t fight, he won’t object, he’ll give in...because Reap’s proving that he trusts him.
The lesson Tyran is teaching—not only Reap, but the entire pack—is trust me, and I’ll take care of you. Trust each other, and nothing will dare come for us.
Emotion swells in my heart as the harsh beauty of it resonates in me. I assumed the reckoning would be some sort of fight, but it’s a lesson—a test.
And Warrik failed.
My heart pounds as I watch Tyran continue to hold a capitulated Reap, my entire body stiff with anxiety. Air bubbles slip out of the water, but still, Tyran holds him. Still, Reap doesn’t struggle.
He’s running out of air…
My nails dig into the wood of the stump, eyes skimming over the pack as they watch just as anxiously.
Finally, Tyran pulls Reap out of the water, and my own relieved breath seems to be yanked out with him. The alpha holds him up, supporting him while he coughs and gasps, working to fill his lungs with precious oxygen.
Tyran’s mighty body and presence is like a wall against the brutal current. My chest constricts as I look at the sopping wet delta who’s shaking all over, but I feel nothing but respect for him. I can imagine how horribly difficult that must’ve been, to allow himself to be held under. It goes against every instinct to simply give in like that, but he did it. He proved his trust and submission to his alpha.
With a hand on his shoulder, Tyran moves in and presses his forehead against Reap’s. The two of them stand like that for a long moment, as a potent, silent message is communicated back and forth between them. Then, Tyran claps him on the shoulder and helps Reap cross the river, guiding him back up the craggy bank and into the welcome grasp of the rest of the pack. One by one, I watch as the others press their forehead against Reap’s and have their own moment with him. It’s a powerful and impactful thing to watch, and it begins to alter what I thought about these people.
“If we don’t have trust and loyalty, we have nothing,” Tyran announces again, but this time as the words leave his mouth, he’s staring at me.
His gaze is intense, but I shove everything I’m feeling about what just happened into my expression—respect, admiration, need. I let him see it as I lock eyes with him, refusing to balk or question the inferno rushing through me. Heat swells in his gorgeous brown gaze, and then suddenly, he’s stalking toward me.
All at once, I’m prey, and for the first time in my life, I want to be.
Tyran doesn’t slow as he approaches, and then with one fluid movement, he pulls me from the tree stump and starts rubbing cold water all over me with his soaking wet limbs. I squeal while he does his best to use me as a towel. He chuckles as I squirm and try to get away from him, and the rumbling sound dives straight between my thighs, calling up my desire.
“Go rub against a bush,”