STORY EXCERPT

“Craig!” Finch shouted, clutching his chest.

In unison, Elvis and Carter both cried out their friend’s name, as though in physical pain.

“What’s wrong?” Cormack asked worriedly.

“Craig’s hurt,” Finch gasped, looking ill.

“The vision,” Elvis said tearfully. “It’s become a reality.”

Cormack looked at the men and felt sick. “The Hawkrigg pack is…dead?”

“We don’t know,” Carter murmured, swallowing hard. “But I felt something evil, then my link to Craig went—dead.”

“It’s there again,” Finch said in relief, his green eyes glittering with emotion. Cormack studied the tough ex-SF soldier and wondered at the strength of the man’s love for his mate that he would show his feelings so readily. He wanted that for himself.

They glanced up as they heard the rumble of a vehicle entering the valley and peered toward the road. A large black Range Rover was traversing the narrow track, and Finch shrugged off what had just happened, instantly all business.

“Who the fuck…?”

“I don’t recognize the car,” Elvis said.

“Me either,” Carter agreed. “Not one of ours, I don’t think.”

They gathered tools together, then headed up to the main house. Connor and the women were all ensconced there, along with the eight refugees from the Outer Hebrides facility where they’d been imprisoned.

“Who’s that?” Elvis murmured as the large vehicle reached the house, rolling smoothly to a stop just as he and the others arrived.

“Oh my,” Carter concurred.

Finch rolled his eyes at the pair as they fanned themselves, and he stalked toward the three men who exited the vehicle. “Cord Hartley, what the hell are you doing here?”

The man in question grinned back, holding out his hand in greeting. They hugged and then studied one another intently. “We wanted to pay Craig a visit. He saved our lives in Kenya. We wouldn’t be here without him. All three of us were on that last mission. We were at the QE Hospital when he was there, but didn’t get to see him before he discharged. Is he okay?”

Cormack watched the men curiously. The guy, Cord, was a stunner. Nape-length dark hair, short at the sides and swept back in a casual style that suited him perfectly. He had eyes the color of warm caramel, and his skin-tone hinted at Mediterranean heritage. Long and lithe, he was a couple of inches shorter than Cormack’s own six foot three. His smile flashed again as he caught Cormack’s intent stare.

“See something you like, stud?” he asked, arching one brow. Cormack knew they weren’t his mates, he didn’t feel the pull, but he could admire the view. He winked back, smiling.

“Oh, lord,” one of the other men groaned comically. “Really? Here?”

Cord chuckled. “I suppose introductions are in order,” he said. “I’m former Sergeant Cord Hartley. This loser is Corporal Jonathan James, and my other friend, Private James Murphy. We were all seconded to Amos Hartland’s platoon, but got medical discharge from the army after that last mission.”

Cormack saw him tap his leg and hitch up the leg of his black jeans, and spied the prosthetic limb. He never would have realized without Cord bringing attention to it.

“Sorry, Cord,” Finch said sympathetically. He patted the man on the back. “That’s a bitch.”

“Yeah,” Cord replied, shrugging. “But we’re alive thanks to Craig.”

“He’s not here right now,” Finch said apologetically. “I was actually just about to contact him. He could be in trouble.”

“Come on inside,” Elvis said, batting his lashes at the three hunks. “No need to catch cold out here.”

Cormack shook his head at Elvis’s blatant flirting, and bit back a laugh when he saw the interest in both Jonathan and James and the blush on Elvis’s cheeks. His gaydar was firing on all cylinders, telling him all three men were friends of Dorothy.

Finch led the way inside and guided their visitors into the lounge, then disappeared to make a call to Craig. Cormack listened with one ear and heard the relief in Finch’s voice as he spoke. And worry.

“Is everything okay?” Cord asked, his dark eyes concerned as he stepped closer to Cormack.

“I don’t know,” Cormack sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Craig and Amos went to warn some people we know. We have a bad feeling that something bad has happened to them.”

Finch returned, looking almost feral, his green eyes glittering with fury. “Amos is fine, but Craig is injured.”

“What do you need me to do?” Cormack asked, flipping his long braid over his shoulder, his green eyes intent.

“Amos said to stay here. He thinks Charlie is still a threat,” Finch muttered. “I hate waiting. And I haven’t heard from Blaze or Garnet in a while. I tried them, too, but it went straight to voicemail. And they’re not responding to the mate call. I hope they’re not doing something stupid.”

Cormack grinned at Finch, then laughed out loud. “Those two? I would be worried if they weren’t. Blaze and Garnet live to cause mayhem.”

Finch groaned, closing his eyes. “I know. They’re worse than me.”

“Surely not,” Elvis drawled, flicking a mocking glance at Finch. “I don’t see how that’s possible. You’re off the charts, sweetie.”

Finch flipped off the little twink but grinned at the sarcasm. “Believe it,” he retorted. “Garnet and Blaze together are a recipe for chaos.”

ADULT EXCERPT

“Oh my,” Elvis whispered as he was lowered to the ground, watching as the three studs got naked quickly. “You’re gorgeous,” he said admiringly. He mentally punched the air. Damn!

Jon was about six feet tall, with short dark hair and eyes the color of treacle. He was lean, without an ounce of fat on him, his musculature cut to perfection. A dark treasure trail ran from his hairy chest, arrowing to his belly button, and on down to his groin, where a trimmed thatch surrounded his thick, erect cock. He bore the evidence of three bullet wounds, one far too close to his heart, the other two having claimed his right lung and lower chest. Elvis eyed the scars, imagining his life if these men had been killed in combat. His true mates, lost before he’d found them. It didn’t bear thinking about.

He turned his attention to James, who had dirty-blond hair and gray eyes and was an inch taller than Jonathan, and when he dropped his pants, Elvis spied a body made for sin. He was beautiful, his skin tanned, his muscles thickly corded. There were several ugly shrapnel scars on his legs, and Elvis dropped to his knees before the tall stud, kissing them gently. He knew his mates were all warriors and knew also that they would always bear the marks of combat.

“That’s it, sugar,” James said huskily, gripping Elvis’s spiky multihued hair gently. “I love your tongue on me, sweetheart.”

Elvis moaned, turning his head to see James’s big cock jutting urgently, moist at the tip, the spongy head ripe with need. He took a tentative taste, moaning again as the flavor exploded on his tongue. James was delicious. He heard slurping noises and cast his gaze upward, seeing Alex and Jonathan kissing passionately. Jon was facing away from Elvis, and Elvis could see he sported a huge tattoo of a wolf across his back, howling at the moon. Alex, about three inches taller, was just now gaining back some of his bulk, but his muscles rippled strongly as he held on tightly, gripping Jon firmly. There were a few thin scars, newly healed, that littered his torso. He’d been through hell, too. They all had, in their own way.

“So good,” Alex said, groaning loudly. “Claim us, baby,” he said to Jon. “We need to be claimed.” Elvis shot him a startled glance, surprised that Alex would give ground so soon. He grinned as he viewed Jon’s expression. Pure lust. Alex was about to be taken down.

Jon let loose a low growl and tumbled Alex to the bed. Elvis watched them, moaning softly as he took James’s cock into his mouth, sucking avidly on the thick meat.

“See how sexy that is,” James crooned, stroking Elvis’s hair. “So fucking sexy.”

Elvis nodded and began a tentative rhythm, sucking his lover off with jerky strokes at first, before he got the beat, and was soon bobbing up and down steadily, encouraged by James’s moans of satisfaction. He fondled the man’s undercarriage and rolled the heavy ball sac around his fingers, squeezing lightly. James groaned needily, jerking a little, and Elvis gagged as he swallowed more than he could manage.

“Relax your throat muscles, love,” James said.

Elvis obeyed, concentrating, and felt James surge deeper still, his tempo increasing as Elvis held on for dear life. James’s balls slapped his chin, and he had to grab the man’s thick legs for balance. James let loose a deep snarl, then came hard, spattering thick loads of cum down Elvis’s throat. Before he’d finished, James eased back and sprayed Elvis’s face, then knelt and licked the sticky cream, sharing Elvis’s taste with him. Panting, loving the dirty kiss, Elvis found himself lifted onto his bed beside Alex and Jon.

“Watch them, baby,” James urged, rolling Elvis to his side and spooning behind him. “Enjoy the show.”

Elvis moaned as he felt James’s fingers probing at his quivering hole. He tried hard to concentrate on Jon and Alex, but it was a struggle. James was doing things to him that had him biting back a scream of delight. It definitely beat wanking off in a dirty stall in some dank shithole of a club, or fingering himself in the dark of night, frightened in case he was discovered and outed to his family.

“Lube?” Alex gasped. Elvis pointed to his pillow, where he kept a tube, for emergencies.

Chuckling, Alex grabbed the much-needed lubricant, handing it to Jon. The ex-Marine laughed at Alex’s antics. “Hmmm, in a hurry are you? How about you claim me, alpha?”

Alex growled, flipping Jon onto his back, in full alpha mode. “You bet,” he gritted out, smearing lube onto his fingers and around the entrance to Jon’s tight hole. Elvis watched Jon’s ass suck two fingers deep inside, and groaned loudly.

“Want some of that?” James asked, and Elvis nodded helplessly. He wanted that and so much more.

James grabbed the tube and began preparing Elvis gently. Elvis’s senses overloaded, and he was soon lost in a whirl of pleasure and a tinge of pain as his hole was stretched carefully, preparing him for entry. “Hole in one?” James growled lustily, parking his thick, lubed cock at Elvis’s gateway, then began a slow, steady slide into heaven.