Fermented Desires

Blood Revealed

The soft morning light filtered through Isabella's curtains, brushing her skin with warmth as her eyes blinked open. The faint ache in her thighs and the tangle of tousled sheets told her last night wasn't a dream. It had happened—every heated kiss, every whispered word, every lingering touch.

She let her fingers trail lazily over her shoulder, a quiet smile playing on her lips as she replayed it all. Hudson's rough voice, Cameron's eager hands, Ashton's teasing kisses. Her body still buzzed with the memory of being surrounded, adored... completely seen.

Dragging herself from bed, she wandered into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Hot water cascaded over her body, washing away sleep but not the memory of being touched in ways she never imagined.

After toweling off, she slipped into cozy cotton shorts and an oversized tee, then padded barefoot downstairs.

The scent of sizzling bacon and warm maple filled the air. Ashton stood shirtless at the stove, flipping pancakes like a pro. Hudson leaned against the counter with his usual calm, sipping from a coffee mug, while Cameron—hair tousled and still wearing sleep in his expression—scrolled his phone.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Cameron said with a lazy grin.

Isabella yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "Morning. Something smells amazing."

"Gourmet breakfast, courtesy of Chef Ash," Ashton replied, giving the spatula a twirl. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

Hudson slid a mug of coffee toward her without a word, his eyes flicking over her briefly. A glance that made her toes curl.

"I slept like a rock," she said, taking a sip. "You guys..." she gave them a sly smile, "wore me out."

Cameron chuckled into his cup. "Was that a thank you or a threat?"

"A little of both."

Just then, a sharp knock rattled the front door.

The kitchen went still.

Everyone looked up.

"Anyone expecting someone?" Hudson asked, already setting his mug down.

"Nope," Ashton answered, brow furrowing.

"Not me," Cameron said.

Isabella slowly shook her head. "I didn't invite anyone."

Silence fell. The easy morning haze evaporated, replaced by unease.

After what she'd been through—being watched, drugged—they didn't take unannounced visitors lightly.

Hudson moved first. "Izzy, stay back."

She obeyed, heart thumping as she stepped behind Cameron. Ashton walked with Hudson toward the door, shoulders tense.

Hudson cracked the door open just enough to see. A tall figure stood silhouetted in morning light, wearing a gray hoodie and dark jeans.

"Who are you?" Hudson demanded.

The man lifted his hood.

"Nikko," he said. "I'm Nikko."

Time froze.

Isabella's heart slammed against her chest.

She didn't think. She just *moved*, dodging around Cameron and Ashton before anyone could stop her.

"Nikko?" she gasped.

And then she was in his arms, barreling into him like a tidal wave, sobbing as they collapsed onto the front porch.