Page 161 of Harley & Her Ferals

My last memory is of my Alphas’ teeth biting my throat in a way that completed me.

Then…nothing.

But I’m alive!

My men saved me.

I turn my head to sniff at the pillow and slide my hands along the clean blankets that have been lovingly wrapped around me.

I should be a slick covered mess, and so should the bed. In fact, with the way that Feral and Harbinger were clawing at the bed, it should be torn to shreds.

I never guessed that two dominant Alphas could be so hot together or that it was even hotter for one of them to submit to the other in the way that Harbinger did.

I bet River was the one to change the bedding, as well as to clean me up. He must be exhausted after staying up for over a day and night to look after us Omegas and Alphas, getting us through the heat.

I warm inside at how well he cares for us.

Yet his life was on the line in the heat as much as mine was.

I couldn’t allow myself to die — I battled to hold onto life, no matter what.

Because Dad would have held River responsible if I’d died.

He’d have shot him.

I’m beginning to understand that Dad has already had the rest of River’s mafia family killed.

River should see my brother and me as his enemy. Yet he never has.

I will do anything to repay him for the trust that he’s put in me.

I wrinkle my nose at the delicious scents that are wafting from the nightstand. I peek at the stacked plate of fried eggs, bacon, waffles, and blueberry pancakes with syrup.

My mouth waters.

I’m never normally allowed such a large breakfast.

Suddenly, I realize how hungry I am.

After all, apart from the snacks that River must have been able to handfeed me, I’ve missed at least three meals.

My body aches like I’ve been through a dozen brutal fights in the octagon. My skin is covered with scratches and bites. My hips feel bruised.

On the other hand, it’s the good kind of ache that makes me squirm and hope that the marks don’t fade for at least a week.

I reach up to press on each of my fresh bond bites on my neck.

I ball my hands hard not to cry out at the electric sparks that burst through me. Even a featherlight touch will reignite thepleasure on either of the Alphas’ bond bites, even when they scar over.

They’ll be my permanent marks.

It makes me feel safe and loved.

In the same way, the imprints of my Beta and Omega bites do as well, even if those will fade.

But the bonds have still taken.

I can hear the quiet, serious chatter of my pack somewhere in the room.

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