Fuck.
That’s exactly what I want.
I want them all at once. I want to tumble into my bed and feel five sets of eyes on my body, five sets of hands touching me and leaving their mark on me, five cocks driving into my body and coming in me, on me, all over me until I pass out a sticky fucking mess. I want so many things that I can’t figure out how to ask for, how to beg them to own me until I’m fucking ruined.
I want it all.
A strangled moan bursts out from between my lips, and he leans forward to cover them with his own, smothering the sound between us. He might have our Bonded sleeping peacefully unaware, but there’s still a whole camp of Gifted outside of these tent walls that could hear exactly what he’s doing to me.
I really don’t want to think about that.
So instead, I think about his hips driving into me, the way his cock is stretching me to my limits, and the dark, filthy promise of his words in my mind until I come again, turning my head to bite his wrist to stop myself from screaming out my pleasure.
His hips stutter at the sharp pain of my teeth in his skin, and he drops down onto his elbow on the other side, tucking his own face into the crook of my neck as he comes as well. I brace myself for him to bite me back, but he just leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses there, his tongue laving at my skin until I’m squirming on his cock again, ready for round two, just like that.
He lifts up again, glancing down at me with a dazed grin.
My heart stops in my chest.
I blink and it’s gone, but this time, I’m sure I’ve seen it.
His eyes flashed black.
He leans down to kiss me again, but I pull my lips away, only remembering at the last second to speak to him in my mind and not out loud.
Your eyes changed. Gryphon, your eyes turned black!
He scowls at me for a second, but when he lifts his hand up to his face, the glow of the white light is there, as though proving I’m wrong.
I know I’m not.
Gryphon, I swear on our Bond, your eyes turned black.
He’s quiet for a minute and then he says, his voice hesitant, I don’t feel different. I didn’t feel anything, Bonded. I’ll… speak to Nox and North about it later. One more round before I have to leave? Or do you want a nap instead?
It’s a stupid question.
Sleep is for the weak.
I don’t want to admit that I have trauma issues about showering at the camp.
It was easy to go in after Kyrie when we’d been captured, the threat of what would happen to her without my help was enough to get my ass moving without thinking about it. But now, here, even surrounded by my Bonded and friends… I don’t want to go in there.
I’m also feeling gross about going about my day after my wakeup sex with Gryphon.
If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve asked him to come with me. The shower blocks aren’t split up by gender. They’re private enough, but instead of thinking about the consequences of enjoying my Bonded, I’d gone back to sleep for a few hours.
Now I’m too freaked out to just go shower.
What the hell is wrong with me that I can just throw myself into any situation if my Bonded or our friends are in danger, but this seems like too much for me? I have a literal death god living under my skin, there’s nothing that I should be afraid of.
I also was never assaulted in the Resistance camps.
Not like that.
But I’d heard it every night. I’d been threatened with it countless times by the guards, all of them ready to do whatever disgusting, violent things to me the moment Davies decided I was no longer a VIP prisoner. This is all stuff I haven’t let myself think about for years, not since I forced my bond into hiding when I went on the run. I compartmentalized all of this so that I could get through my days without panicking over every little sound and get through my nights without screaming nightmares.
So, like a coward, I’m slow to get up.
I hate to act as though I’m too tired or lazy to get on with my day, but none of my Bonded say a word about my reluctance. North is gone before I wake up for the second time, and Gabe presses a kiss to my cheek as he heads out, murmuring something about a scouting job for Gryphon. Atlas leaves to help Gray with stocking the supplies that Kieran is transporting in for Felix.
At the moment, Nox is still elbow deep in his research, dressed and taking his notes in the worn leather notebook he has tucked into the crook of his arm at all times.
He ignores me for a full ten minutes as I lie there and try to convince myself to call Sage and go shower with her and Aro there as well. If we’re all talking and joking around, I’ll be distracted enough to get through it without a panic attack.
I can’t get a bucket and wash up here. There’s no way of explaining that without sounding like an absolute child, so I’ll just have to text Sage and bite the bullet here.
When I finally pull myself up to sit in my sleeping bag, I have to search around to find my underwear and pull them back on, my face heating when I realize Nox is just sitting on the other side of the tent, seeing this twisted version of a walk of shame.
My head is a mess right now.
I freeze when he pulls himself up, opening up his own pack and grabbing out a bundle of clothes. “Get some pants on, there’s people everywhere here.”
I frown a little, but I do as he says without a word, my mind still running with all of the anxiety I’d woken up with. I triple check the wall in my mind, but it’s secure, none of my emotions spilling out onto my Bonded and letting them in on my internal battle.
I pull on the same pants I was wearing yesterday. Mud streaks the legs of them already, so they’re a lost cause. Nox rummages through my pack, and then he stalks back over to the opening of the tent, glancing back over his shoulder when he notices that I’m still just standing around like an idiot.
“Stay close. No one is going to try to talk to you if you’re with me.”
That sounds like exactly what I need.
I have to dodge a couple of shadow creatures, but when I stumble a little over the uneven ground, Nox steps in closer to me, his fingers threading through mine as he leads me through the camp. I’m half expecting to end up in front of the command tent, sure that Nox is ferrying me off to North so that I stop bothering him with my presence while he works, but then he leads me into the showering block.
I want to throw up.
I freeze, but he just pulls me inside one of the stalls, his shadow creatures filling up the space with us as they take up watch, their jaws lolling open, rows of razor sharp teeth visible as they pant like proper Dobermans.
I think sometimes they even forget that they’re not really perfect puppies.
Nox keeps hold of my hand as he puts down his supplies on the small chair in the stall. It’s a tight squeeze for us both, but he gets us both naked and the water running without much fussing or errant elbows. I’m expecting the water to be cold, but by some miracle, it’s hot. There’s soap that smells like home, and every inch of the space is filled with the vicious monsters of the Dravens who I already know won’t hesitate to devour a Gifted whole for me.
Slowly, I relax enough to actually wash myself.
Nox washes himself first and then, hesitantly at first, as though he’s gauging where my boundaries are right now, he takes the soap from me and cleans me as well.