Page 43 of Hunted By the Wolves
Victor’s gaze landed on their mate for a moment, then snapped back to the core group still standing.“This stops being about analysis,” he said flatly.“From here on out, it’s a hunt.We find Christian.We run him to ground.And we end it.”
Something in Dorian settled at that—an old, familiar clarity sliding into place.Beside him, Rafe’s posture shifted almost imperceptibly, the same understanding taking hold.
They shared a brief look.A hunt, then.Fuck, yeah.
Klarissa didn’t leave the screen as her mates stood up and moved away from the camera.
She tilted her head toward Riley.“Can I steal you for a minute?”
Riley glanced at Dorian.He nodded once.
They moved a few steps aside, though Klarissa remained very much on screen, her image filling the corner display.Her tone stayed light, teasing, but there was genuine warmth beneath it.Dorian watched Riley as she spoke—shoulders looser than they’d been in weeks, laughter soft and real.
She’s coming back to herself, he thought.
Klarissa’s eyes sharpened, tracking something just out of frame.“Hold on,” she said, leaning closer to her camera.“Is that a bite mark on your neck, or am I imagining things?”
Dorian winced internally.We really need to stop doing that.
Then, unhelpfully, no.She’s too damn delicious.And it drives us both crazy.
Klarissa arched a brow.“And what is that about?”
Blushing Riley answered with a soft smile.“My mates have a fixation with my neck.And to be perfectly honest, I love that they do.”
The words landed with quiet, unmistakable certainty.
Dorian felt it in his chest—pride, heat, something dangerously close to reverence.
Klarissa’s face broke into pure delight.“Oh, I love that for you, Riley.”She clapped her hands together.“We’re talking soon.Margaritas.Virtual or in person, I don’t care.You’re not doing this next part of life without me in your corner.”
Riley smiled, bright and unguarded.“Deal.”
When she turned back to them, she was glowing.
Rafe’s arm came around her without thinking.Dorian stepped in on her other side, the three of them moving as one.
They didn’t need to speak it.
She had claimed them.
And they were already moving her back to their room—too happy, too hungry, too undone by the way she had saidmy matesto not claim her right back.
****
The elevator ride totheir floor felt too long and not long enough at the same time.
Riley stood between them, still bright from the way she’d said it—my mates—as if the words were a living thing she had finally let breathe.Rafe couldn’t stop looking at her.Couldn’t stop feeling the echo of it in his chest.Dorian’s hand rested at the small of her back, steady, protective, but there was nothing guarded about any of them now.
The doors opened.They didn’t speak.
They were halfway across the open living space toward the bedroom before Rafe’s fingers found the hem of her shirt, before Dorian’s mouth brushed the skin he revealed.Fabric fell away as they moved—soft, urgent, inevitable.Riley laughed under her breath, the sound trembling with want and something deeper.Every inch of skin they uncovered earned a kiss, a touch, a quiet promise.
Rafe drew her into him mid-step, the kiss not gentle but grateful, reverent—the kind of claiming that never took, only answered.Dorian pressed in from behind her, mouth warm at her shoulder, hands sure as if he had always known the shape of her.
“You said it,” Rafe murmured against her lips, needing to hear it again.“You claimed us as your mates to Klarissa.”
Riley’s eyes were luminous.“I meant it.”
