The Pack Thief

17

Willow's POV

My mate. So delectable, he was. So freaking delicious and handsome. Staring at him was the epitome of ecstasy. Staring at him ignited my veins. Ruptured my heart. Lit my skin ablaze. He was glorious.

Beneath his clothes, there was something I craved so desperately. But only from him. No one else. No one else would be able to satisfy-

"You've had two hard ciders. Two. And you're tipsy?"

There was a voice. Somewhere near. Somewhere far. Somewhere.

My limbs tingled.

There were people staring at me, grinning. My face was split in two. Also grinning. Their faces were so familiar. Their smiles. So warm and so amused. Why?

"I'm not tipsy." My words fell over themselves. My tongue tripped.

Were my words as slurred as they sounded? Maybe they were.

"You are very tipsy." It was a statement, not a question. The blonde man, Seth I believed. He was the one speaking.

"Nuh-uh." My words were lazy and they felt foreign against my tongue. Hell, my tongue was but a fleshy blob in the center of my mouth. Suddenly, I was laughing. Laughter bubbled up from my throat as if the world around me had told a joke. It hadn't.

The blonde-haired male threw a glance towards my mate, his wild eyes beaming with something along the lines of glee and surprise.

"Cyrus, man, your mate is a lightweight."

"Who are you calling a lightweight, bucko?" I shot back before Cyrus or anyone else could respond. The guy without missing a beat replied,

"You."

He was so fuzzy. They all were. Some of them were swaying from side to side. Or maybe that was just me. Probably. Another laugh rippled from my lips. And then another. Each laugh lifted a weight from me that hadn't been freed in years. And suddenly, my shoulders were weightless.

Words spewed from the man's lips. I most likely would've found interest in listening to them, if my eyes weren't already roaming other places. Through the windows of my eyeballs, I spotted two 'lovers'. Atlas and Mae.

Tongue locked again.

Get a room. The words tapped the boundaries of the mate link. An amused chuckle came from my left. Cyrus. He was peering down at me with a smile so natural it warmed my soul. His arm was still lazily slung around my waist. An action that was more than delightful.

He spoke to me through the link,

If you remember anything from tonight, I want you to remember me telling you just how beyond extraordinary you look.

Within an instant, I understood the primal drive behind Atlas's and Mae's so-called love. Staring at Cyrus as the words danced around my brain. It did things to me that no amount of poetry could ever accomplish.

His tongue. I imagined it was quite the poet itself.

I imagined that the way his tongue would feel on me--in me--would leave heaven feeling as if it was kneeling before me. A shiver shot its way through my weightless body. I found my eyes trailing down to his lips.

Kiss him, I encouraged myself.

His eyes flickered to my own lips. Then back to my eyes. The beating heart within my chest seemed to skip one beat. Then another.

Kiss me, I encouraged him.

His grip around my waist tightened. The sloppy and relaxed grip that once was, was no longer. Brown, earthy eyes turned golden for a lovely second in time. My gaze never left his.