Jessica’s POV
“Say my name when you feel it.”
The words echo in my mind even before I open my eyes.
My body is tangled in the sheets, slick with sweat from a dream I can barely remember.
My pulse pounds against my ribcage, each beat heavy and insistent.
Heat coils low in my belly, sharp and unrelenting, and I shift, curling over the blanket as though that could make it stop.
I gasp softly.
My throat is dry.
My sheets smell faintly of something—him, them—Charles and Jude.
My hands reach instinctively to touch myself, but I stop.
Someone’s been in my room.
I freeze.
The door is slightly ajar.
My blankets are tossed.
My scent—my private scent—is not just mine anymore.
My heart hammers, sharp fear slicing through the fog of heat.
“Jude?” I whisper.
No answer.
Charles’s voice, low and calm, comes from nowhere and everywhere in my memory.
Say my name.
My lips part as my pulse accelerates.
I shake my head.
No.
Not now.
I rise, shivering despite the warmth of my body.
My fingers brush the edge of the pillow—soft, but the scent on it is heavy.
A warning, a claim, or both?
I don’t know.
My wolf growls softly inside me.
She’s uneasy, awake, aware of the tampering.
I step lightly across the floor.
Each breath is shallow, careful.
My body hums, angry and restless.
My heat, early and unyielding, refuses to allow me calm.
“Jessica,” a voice mutters.
I spin.
No one.
Only the curtains sway.
Shadows fall across the room in strange shapes.
My heart hammers again.
Someone has been here while I slept.
I move to the dresser, my fingers brushing each drawer.
The top one is open, the scent on the inside sharp, foreign.
My pulse jumps.
Heat flares.
My wolf is roaring now, clawing, restless.
She wants to fight, wants to find the trespasser.
Wants me to strike.
I shake my head, forcing calm.
Not yet.
Not in this.
The mirror catches my eyes.
My face is pale, my skin flushed, heat leaving it shiny, slick.
I see the marks on my arms—traces of someone holding me, or something else.
The restraint?
A warning?
I don’t know, but the anger rises with the heat, twisting tight inside me.
“Say my name,” the words echo again in my mind, teasing.
I shiver and close my eyes.
I see them both.
Charles’s dark, impossible presence—his hands, his chest, the way he pulls me into him and won’t let go.
In the dream, I can feel both of them, their scents so thick and close it’s almost suffocating.
I gasp.
My body trembles, muscles tightening against an invisible force.
My wolf moans, desperate, craving, tense.
Heat spills through me in waves that I cannot control.
I stagger toward the bed, dragging a hand across my face.
My knees feel weak.
I feel it again—their scent, thick and commanding, and my wolf responds immediately.
Every nerve is alive.
My throat is dry.
My pulse racing like drums.
I try to shake it off.
I am not theirs.
I take a shaky breath and pace the room.
My heart will not be ignored.
It curls low, curling around my thighs, pressing against me, demanding release.
The world tilts.
My hands clench into fists, digging into my thighs.
My body wants them, and I hate that it does.
Hate that I feel alive and out of control all at once.
The window shakes slightly with the wind.
My eyes darted there.
I hear nothing.
But the floorboards creak behind me.
Someone is close.
Someone knows I am awake.
My wolf snarls, low and dangerous, trembling under my skin.
I spin.
Nothing.
“Jessica.” The voice is soft, calculated.
Behind me.
I freeze.
My back presses to the wall.
Heat spikes, body trembling uncontrollably.
My pulse hammers against my ribs.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Jude’s calm, deliberate voice.
My stomach coils at the sound.
Every instinct screams, body taut, muscles tight.
My wolf answers immediately, restless and impatient.
“I—” My voice breaks.
I step back, pressing against the wall.
My body burns.
My heat feels like a living thing, pulsing, twisting.
“I—don’t.”
“You do,” he says.
And I hear Charles now, almost inside my mind, almost tangible, saying nothing, just the pressure of him in my chest in memory.
The ghost of him, the heat of him, the claim he made without asking.
Jude steps closer.
His hands hover, measuring.
My heart jumps.
“You’re marked,” he says softly, almost to himself.
“Someone’s been claiming your scent.
Touching you while you sleep.”
I stumble, head spinning, and my knees threaten to buckle.
My hands claw at the wall.
“Who?” I whisper.
Fear and anger twist in my belly.
Jude’s eyes meet mine.
“I don’t know yet.
To see how much of you they can push without consequence.”
The words hit harder than the heat.
My wolf screams.
Anger, fear, need, and want twist inside me.
My body trembles.
Charles’s presence feels thicker now, closer.
Not real, but pressing into my chest like a weight.
His dominance lingers in my bones.
My breath catches.
My pulse races.
The early heat coils tighter, unpredictable, and needy.
“I—can’t…” I choke out, but my knees give, and my body shudders violently.
Jude’s hands catch my shoulders, steadying me.
Heat, fear, and need clash inside me like a storm.
“Breathe,” Jude orders.
Calm, firm.
“Now.”
I try, shallow and fast.
My wolf moans low in my chest.
The heat claws at me.
Every nerve is alive.
Every instinct screams.
“You will need control,” Jude continues.
“This is only the beginning.
You’re awake, and now they know it.”
My body shivers against his hands.
My wrists clench in invisible resistance.
My heat pulses.
My wolf is raw, wild, ready to fight or scream or give in.
I hate that part of me wants to yield.
“And next time,” Jude whispers, voice low and threatening in the best way, “they may not hold back.
Not Charles.
Not me.
Not anyone who has claimed you.”
My heart hammers.
My breath comes fast.
My knees wobble again.
The room spins.
I feel marked, vulnerable, and dangerous all at once.
A shadow flicks across the corner of the room.
Movement.
I whip around.
Nothing.
But the feeling of eyes, watching, waiting, pressing, is impossible to ignore.
I stagger back toward the bed.
My heat spikes again.
My wolf howls inside, restless, unbound, impatient.
My fingers clutch at the sheets.
My body burns, trembling, aching with need and fury.
The air around me feels thick, alive.
Dominance, scent, heat—so many forces pressing, claiming, marking.
My instincts scream.
My mind shouts no.
My body screams yes.
And then, the wind slams the window open.
Papers flutter.
My breath catches.
My heart races faster than ever.
Someone is in my room.
I know it before I see them.
Someone has tampered with Jessica’s room while she slept, their intent unknown.
Her heat, the twins’ presence lingering, and her wolf’s restlessness make her body vulnerable, and the intruder’s arrival promises immediate danger.