“This isn’t happening. This *cannot* be happening to me. Not now.” My voice echoed off the walls, raw and trembling.
That made it the two-hundredth time I’d repeated those words, as if saying them enough could rewrite reality. I’d been up all night, spiraling. After my utterly humiliating slip-up in front of both Ashford brothers, it was crystal clear-my mission was well and truly screwed.
Their presence had been suffocating, like two wolves crowding prey. Panic had clawed its way up my throat until I stormed out, a pitiful show of retreat that left me seething at myself.
“Reporter dies of sheer mortification-now, here’s a look at the zoo’s newest panda,” I muttered bitterly, imagining the headlines. Ten seconds of public shame, and the world would move on without a second thought.
The sunrise spilled through the window, mocking me with its indifference. I half-expected them to follow me, which would’ve been even worse. Facing them now? Impossible. Yet, how long could I keep running from it all?
The answer hung heavy in the air-I couldn’t.
Three weeks. That’s how long until the next full moon. Not nearly enough time. Their wolves would find me; there was no escaping it. I wasn’t raised in their pack, but if I wanted to work at the *Full Moon Times* and settle here permanently, joining their pack was inevitable. They were the closest to the city, and every wolf reported to the Alphas-the Ashford brothers.
The thought struck like a jolt of electricity. If my mates were Alphas, there was no chance they’d let me live off-pack territory.
*You’re their Luna. What’s the pack’s name again?* My wolf, Rose, nudged into my thoughts.
“Oh, screw off, Rose. Of course *you’d* obsess over this,” I snapped aloud at the wall.
Thinking about it was dangerous-it gave the thought power, made it real. I wasn’t cut out for the Luna role. I couldn’t cook, I barely cleaned, and my life revolved around school, casual flings, and work. Domesticity wasn’t just foreign to me-it made my skin crawl.
All I wanted was to enjoy life, do my job well, and get recognition for my talent: breaking the best stories and being unmatched in bed.
But last night, no one else even flickered across my mind. I couldn’t conjure desire for anyone else. I was wrecked-by two men I hadn’t so much as kissed.
This was bad. I needed to find a distraction-a warm body to make some reckless decisions with, and fast.
*I’ve never approved of your promiscuity,* Rose huffed indignantly. *I’d never stoop that low.*
“Oh, shove it,” I grumbled inwardly, pulling a face. The irony wasn’t lost on me-my wolf, my *other half,* was a goody two-shoes named Rose. I’d foolishly shared her name after my first shift at seventeen, and the entire pack hadn’t let me hear the end of it.
Rose and I clashed all the time. She was traditional; I was anything but.
Dragging myself out of bed, I showered, though it didn’t do much to improve my mood. Rose wasn’t about to let up, either.
*Who has four hands and can give our body what it needs? Our maaaates,* she sang.
I flipped her off in the mirror as I finished my makeup. My hair was still an untamed mess, but coffee took priority. I clipped it up haphazardly and headed to the kitchen.
Even the warmth of the coffee couldn’t soothe the ache lingering in my body. That ache-burning low and insistent-was a constant reminder of the undeniable pull I felt toward *them.*
Two mates. Two *freaking* mates.
A knock at the door jolted me from my spiraling thoughts.
Probably Dahlia, I thought, rolling my eyes. My neighbor’s morning cheerfulness was grating, especially on a day like this. She was harmless enough and useful for conversation or networking, but her timing left much to be desired.
“Not today, Dahlia,” I called, swinging the door open.
The words caught in my throat. My jaw slackened as I stared at the two figures before me-the living, breathing double vision I’d spent the night trying to forget.
The Ashford brothers stood there, looking far too rested and composed. No sleepless nights for them. Meanwhile, I was barely holding it together, a walking corpse by comparison.
“You look like nothing but delicious trouble,” one of them said, his lips curling into a wolfish grin.
I glared, my gaze darting between them. Damn it, I couldn’t tell them apart.
“Trouble looks like it’s your middle name. Both of you,” I shot back, crossing my arms in defiance.
My stomach betrayed me with a loud growl as the scent of pancakes and bacon wafted from the bag one of them carried. Were they being thoughtful, or was this just an excuse to barge in?
“Maybe trouble *was* our middle name,” one of them said, his tone teasing. “But that changed when our mate walked away from us like we had the plague.”
I clenched my fists, bristling at their amusement. They were enjoying this-my inability to distinguish between them, my discomfort.
Before I could stop them, they shouldered past me, filling my small space with their presence. One began unpacking the food while the other rifled through my cabinets, as if they owned the place.
“Don’t you have other girls to keep your beds warm?” I shouted, my voice sharper than I intended. There wasn’t even a real reason for it-just the fact that I was too wound up, my thoughts spinning out of control.
I’d spent the entire night obsessing over them. What was under those clothes? What would it be like to have both of them? To feel *both* of them at the same time?
I’d had my share of threesomes before, sure-but never with two males. Maybe I’d been missing out.
“Not anymore,” they said in unison, their voices cutting through my train of thought.
I almost laughed. The *infamous* Ashford brothers? Monogamous? That had to be the biggest joke I’d ever heard.
Utter nonsense.
*And you’ll be monogamous, too,* my wolf interjected, her tone leaving no room for argument. *I forbid you from being with anyone else.*
Her declaration sent a spark of irritation down my spine. I wasn’t about to surrender my freedom-my *lifestyle*-just yet. I still had some damn good years left in these thighs, and I wasn’t ready to yield them. Grunting, I yanked open a drawer, rummaging furiously until my fingers closed around a marker. Triumph surged through me, as if I’d just won some grand prize.
“Reporter discovers writing utensil! Stay tuned for a word from our sponsors,” I muttered sarcastically.
Armed with the marker, I turned to face the closest brother. I moved into his space, forcing him to stand still. His bemused expression didn’t falter, though his hands hovered awkwardly, uncertain where to settle.
“Which one are you?” I demanded, wagging the marker inches from his face. “And don’t lie to me.”
That grin-the kind of smug, shit-eating grin that screamed trouble-spread across his face, confirming my suspicion. They enjoyed this game, didn’t they? Confusing people. Their scents were maddeningly similar, both a deep, woodsy musk, though one was sharper, more intense. That one had to be Caden.
*You’ll know them apart once we’re marked,* my wolf chimed in smugly.
*Shut it! You’re not helping,* I snapped at her mentally.
“Caleb,” I declared, watching him closely. He didn’t answer, just shoved a piece of food into his mouth, his grin widening.
I grabbed his hand, determined to prove my point. The moment our skin touched, the spark of the mate bond hit me, stopping me in my tracks. My breath caught, and I stared at our joined hands as if I’d never seen hands before. The electricity between us was overwhelming, igniting something primal and undeniable inside me.
“Damn, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze locked on our semi-joined fingers.
I sucked in a sharp breath, flipped his hand over, and quickly scrawled a giant “CAL” on his palm. The satisfaction of my small victory was pathetic, but I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips.
He stared at the letter as though I’d written an ancient rune.
“My turn,” Caden declared, his hands finding my hips as he closed the distance between us.
His breath skimmed over my neck, and I felt my body weaken under the sheer intensity of his presence. My wolf purred in delight, bombarding me with images of bare skin, tangled limbs, and the sounds of ecstasy I couldn’t push away.
*We need fewer clothes. Now,* she demanded, her tone brooking no argument.
I snapped my eyes open, forcing myself to focus. Caden’s face was now mere inches from mine, his gaze smoldering.
Pulling myself together, I grabbed his hand and hastily wrote a giant “CAD” on his palm.
“There,” I said briskly, stepping away. “Now I can eat.”
Grabbing a plate, I served myself, doing my best to ignore the burning stares I could feel on my back.
“Do you prefer Lily or Lilith?” Caden asked, his voice casual, but his eyes sharp, watching my every move.
I cringed. Nobody called me Lilith unless I was in trouble. It was bait, plain and simple, an invitation for me to ask how they knew my name. I wasn’t taking it.
“I prefer Luna,” Caleb interjected, licking his lips.
I dropped onto a barstool at the kitchen island, stabbing at my pancake like it owed me money. Normally, I avoided carbs like the plague, but at this moment, I couldn’t care less. Surely, the mental hamster running circles in my brain would burn it off.
“I prefer to stay an independent, career-oriented woman who stands on her own two feet,” I snapped, glaring at them both. “A woman with accomplishments that *don’t* include being barefoot and knocked up in front of a damn stove.”
They exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them that I couldn’t decipher.
“Fine,” Caleb said finally. “You want to go back to your life like nothing happened? We can do that. I, Caleb Ashford, future Alpha of the Blood Moon pack, hereby-”
“No! No, no, no! Don’t do that!” I screeched, leaping from my chair to slap my hands over his mouth.
My wolf exhaled sharply, and I could practically see her clutching imaginary pearls.
*Pull something like that again, Lilith, and I’ll put you in heat,* she snarled.
*You wouldn’t dare!* I mentally shot back, though the thought made my stomach twist.
“Called it,” Caden said with a laugh.
Before I could retort, Caleb’s tongue darted out, licking my hand. I recoiled, my face burning with humiliation. These assholes knew exactly how to push my buttons.
*Four against two,* my wolf said cheerfully. *Let’s find out their wolves’ names!*