Gemma still ached all over, but the pain was now dull and tolerable. She knew her reprieve would be short. More pain waited for her throughout the night. Something was different, however. Warmth surrounded her on both sides as she rested on what felt like a soft bed. A pillow cushioned her head.
She opened her eyes and bolted upright when a warm, calloused hand brushed her cheek.
“Easy, you’re safe,” said a deeply rich and sexy voice. “Lie back down.”
She looked around the spacious bedroom and even through the muted light could see the room was tastefully decorated with dark wood furniture matching the dark wood bedposts. A creamy white chaise sat in the corner with a cozy-looking rich brown throw blanket dangling off the side of it. She imagined herself lounging on it with a good book and a glass of wine sitting atop the small side table next to the chaise. Gemma did in fact feel safe, safer than she had felt in a very long time. She complied with the gentle command to lie down, pulling up the chartreuse-colored sheet that had pooled around her belly when she had sat up and she sensed a blush creep onto her cheeks while doing so. The memory of what had happened earlier in the forest with the two gorgeous men beside her came flooding back to her as well. They had given her a ray of hope when she had none left.
At first she was on her guard, wary of anyone who dared approach her lest they were part of Pollux-Moon or in allegiance with them. Then she became angry that two complete strangers thought it their right to order her around, to touch her without her consent. She’d been in too much pain to realize that they only wanted to help her. So in agony and unfocused as she was, at first she hadn’t even realized that they were her mates.
Mates. I have mates. She closed her eyes briefly and savored the delicious scents that surrounded her. Her pain had been reflected in their eyes earlier when she had locked gazes with them after she realized who they were to her. One of them had hair the color of midnight and eyes of gold. His hard gaze had softened when she stopped struggling and let him examine her. She found him looking at her when she opened her eyes again.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He had a slightly deeper baritone than the one who commanded her to lie down.
“I’m Gemma. But my friends call me Gem.”
“You have a beautiful name, Gemma, Gem.” His smile was breathtaking. He looked so open and friendly, a complete contrast to how he had looked earlier when he was being bossy and commanding. “I’m Jordan. Alpha of the White-Moon pack. This is my brother and beta, Kane.”
She looked over at Kane—hair nearly as dark as his brother’s, but eyes a mossy green—and managed a small smile. Both men were large and muscular and exuded a power hard to miss. They had identical tattoos on their left pectoral—a wolf’s paw print with a wolf face inside it. The eyes of each wolf, however, matched its owner’s. A full white moon stood out behind the paw and the White-Moon pack insignia, in elegant script, rested underneath. They both sported various other tattoos, but that particular one was breathtaking.
“You had us worried there, little wolf,” Kane said. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just clawed my way out of hell for a temporary breather.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Kane looked suddenly angry. “Who did this to you?”
S.J. Maylee 