Soul Possessed Read online

  “Everyone needs to grab a seat.” Hagan’s grave tone pulls us all to attention as we slide into chairs.

  Carrigan forks a bite of the lukewarm eggs on my plate, but his face sours. “Ack! Don’t eat the eggs. They’re disgusting.”

  Hagan circles the table where Jonas, Cary and I sit, waiting for him to speak. He’s running his hands over his chest, anxiety taking over his features while he murmurs incoherently to himself.

  Carrigan and Jonas exchange a raised eyebrow, but they keep quiet while Hagan puzzles through whatever’s plaguing him. “Honeybear? What’s going on?” I finally ask.

  “Something impossible.” Hagan pauses his pacing and leans against the beige wall. It’s got gold swirls painted across it in wisps and ethereal tufts. “I don’t even know how to explain it, but I’ve got one very big guess. How much do you all know about pack culture?”

  Carrigan, ever the studious one, crosses his left ankle over his right knee from his perch on his stool and folds his hands atop his thigh. “They live together, fight for their group. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. There’s an Alpha who looks out for the pack, and the pack does his bidding. That Louis guy who beat you for going up against him was a wolf pack leader. Wonder what happened to his pack after we killed him.”

  I groan. “Is that never talking about it again?”

  Cary dips his head in my direction. “Sorry Sophie Mae. Louis is taking a long nap, which we know nothing about.”

  “That’s better.” I glance up at Hagan, who looks like he’s about to either cry or vomit. “Hagan, what’s wrong? Are you thinking about taking over for Louis’ pack?”

  Hagan shakes his head, his wide eyes fixed on the table. “I didn’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. I mean, I’ve seen shifters mate with non-shifters. It’s rare, but it happens. But this? You’re supposed to mute all magic!”

  A knot is forming in my chest, and I rub it at the same time Hagan rubs his own sternum. Dread creeps up my esophagus, and I instinctively know that whatever Hagan’s about to say is going to change my life forever.

  Chapter Two

  Sophie

  Jonas throws up his hands when Hagan finishes speaking. “That’s not a thing! It’s not true. You’re just having post-coital guilt. It happens sometimes. I mean, not to me, but with sensitive types.”

  Hagan’s upper lip curls. His fists are clenched, but not in violence. It’s as if he’s bracing himself against life’s twists that no one warned us we needed a seatbelt for. Yet here we are, tumbling through the wreckage.

  Carrigan rubs his temples. “I don’t understand how this happened.”

  Jonas’ attitude is in full swing, which is how I know he’s worried. “It didn’t happen. You’re overthinking things.”

  “The bacon tastes like ash!” Hagan argues.

  Jonas stands and starts gesturing wildly, letting the painting of a villa on the wall know just how ludicrous he thinks this whole thing is. “Bacon? You’re basing this on bacon? I mean, I don’t care because none of this frazzles me, but you’re freaking out Cary, and my little witch is white as a sheet, so knock it off.”

  Despite the drama and uncertainty of the moment, my neck shrinks as a blush climbs up my cheeks. I’m not “that little witch” anymore; I’m Jonas’ little witch. I find I don’t mind this one bit.

  Cary sniggers. “Aw, that’s adorable. Say it again, Jonas.”

  Jonas massages the back of his neck, and though his skin is too dark to really see a crimson color, I know he’s just as relieved as I am that we’ve moved on from hating each other. “Shut up, Cary.”

  Carrigan is immune to the tension radiating off Hagan. I don’t know how he does it. I’m guessing it comes from a lifetime of physical pain finally being lifted that makes the lesser upsets roll off his shoulders. Though, this doesn’t exactly seem like a little upset. If Hagan is right, I’m not sure what it will all mean.

  Cary points at Jonas. “I’ve never heard you use a cutesy nickname on a woman before. You broke things off with Jenny a few years ago because she called you ‘baby.’

  Jonas pouts. “Do I look like a damn baby to you? Point is… I forget. Now I’m all turned around.”

  Hagan claps his hands three times in loud smacks that pull us back together. “It doesn’t matter that nothing like this has ever happened before. I’m telling you, I know what pack life is like, and this is pack life. Last night when I came, it wasn’t like a regular orgasm.” He flinches and covers his face. “I mean, obviously my hand isn’t the same as the real thing, and bear sex isn’t nearly as intense, but I felt energy or something shoot out of me and go up into Sophie.”

  I touch my lips, worried that the magical night we all shared might’ve had a bit too much magic to it. “I know what you mean. On its own, it would’ve been incredible, but the whole climax felt monumental, like my insides started lighting up.” I shake my head. “I’m explaining it wrong.” I purse my lips. “But that’s not possible. I mute magic.”

  Hagan fixes me with a hard stare. “I think we all know there are loopholes around that. Jonas was able to break through. It’s a hefty load of magic that goes into mating. It must’ve been stronger than your ability to turn it off. And you know I can still hear my bear even when you’re right next to me.”

  His words scare me because they make sense. If Jonas could get around my barriers, it stands to reason that something as sacred as mating might also have a shot.

  Carrigan’s face is suddenly serious. “I know what you mean. I felt something like that too. I wrote it off as having something to do with the alcohol, and well, having a five-way.”

  Jonas nods once, but that’s all he grants us.

  Hagan exhales. “That’s what it’s like when a shifter mates. I shouldn’t have… but I couldn’t see straight last night. It wasn’t the alcohol, either. No bender’s ever affected me like that. I’m not sure if I regret it or not, but this entire thing is my fault.”

  Carrigan’s jaw is rigid but he doesn’t give off any other sign that he’s upset. “So Sophie’s your mate now? Where does that put the rest of us?”

  Hagan lowers his chin. “Sophie’s my mate, but because we were all connected, it didn’t stop with just her. All four of you are my mates now.” He taps his chest. “Yesterday I would’ve been fine if Valor left completely, but now that he’s gone, I feel unsettled.” He leans his butt against the edge of counter and then sinks to the floor, his forehead cradled in his hands as his back rests against the cabinet. “What we did last night made us into a pack.”

  Jonas’ arms flail. “But you’re the only shifter! This is all impossible. Shifters mate with one person for life. End of story.”

  Hagan’s voice is low and even from his spot on the floor. “When one of your pack is separated, food tastes like ash. Anyone want more bacon? It’s already happening. We’re meant to be together, the five of us.”

  Anxiety nearly chokes me. I want to protest everything Hagan’s saying, but if I open my mouth, all that will tumble out is a childish “nuh-uh!” Sifting through all my knowledge of shifters brings up no feasible solutions. I even flip through my mental witch glossary for something that might undo a bond like this, but there’s nothing.

  When I finally speak, my voice is quiet. “We need to get Valor. He’s out there, part of a pack without knowing it. He’s going to feel off-balance like I do now but he won’t know why.” My gaze lands on Hagan. “You’re the Alpha. Is there some super-shifter way of locating someone in your pack when they’re missing?”

  Hagan’s eyes level on mine. “I’m not the Alpha, Sophie. You are.”

  Chapter Three

  Jonas

  I’m ready to cut and run, to ditch them all to live out their crazy shifter pack life, but the second Sophie sways, my entire being lurches for her. It’s primal, this freakish need to steady her while our entire world mutates without our permission. This is the weirdest punishment for a blow-job. I’m not even sure I
buy it until Hagan points out our odd behavior.

  “See?” Hagan points to my arms around Sophie. “The Alpha needs something, and the pack springs into action. You don’t need to be told to help, you just do it. Same goes for decisions. You might not agree with her, but when the Alpha lays down the law, it’s almost impossible to disobey.”

  Terror twists Sophie’s features. “I don’t want to control anyone! That’s what Casek did to me, and it was awful! Don’t obey me! Do you hear me? Don’t let me be the Alpha!” My little witch is distraught, and my anxiety over her state doesn’t dissipate until Cary coaxes her head to rest on his shoulder.

  “It’s alright, Sophie Mae. This doesn’t change anything. We were already tied tightly together before this. Now we get the perks of pack life. That can’t be all bad.” Leave it to Cary to put a positive spin on a grim situation. He turns his chin toward Hagan, his green eyes stony with determination that everything will somehow work out. “Isn’t that right, Hagan? Why don’t you tell her some of the perks so we don’t all lose our minds.”

  Hagan runs his fingers through his hair. “Of course. I mean, a pack lives together, usually eats together, hunts together—though I don’t imagine that’s a thing we’ll need to do as a group. The Alpha gets a sixth sense about threats to the pack, and the pack lives to protect and serve the Alpha.”

  “It sounds like a symbiotic relationship,” Cary explains as Sophie’s eyes widen. “You look after us, we look after you. That’s what we were doing anyway, right?” Leave it to Cary to rephrase the whole “serve” aspect so Sophie doesn’t have a conniption. He’s good at stuff like that.

  Her lower lip trembles. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! I’m so sorry, you guys!”

  The tears sparkling in her big, blue eyes kill me, but I know if I move at all, I’ll turn into one of those saps who offer women handkerchiefs. As if she’s not capable of drying her own damn tears.

  “It’s my fault, honeycomb. I knew I shouldn’t have made love with you. I knew better but I wasn’t thinking.” Hagan shoulders the blame, though how he could’ve seen this coming, I’ll never know. Mating with her, sure. Cary warned him not to. He shouldn’t have done it. But mating with all of us? I cringe at the notion, but part of me isn’t as irritated by him today.

  I clear my throat, desperate to gather data before emotion takes over. That’s the best way to go about any big project. “We’re not going to start shifting into animals, right?”

  Hagan shoots me a look of gratitude. “Nah. Nothing like that. You’re still a psychic. Shifters who mate outside our species aren’t the norm, but it happens, and they form sort of like their own little unit. If the shifter joins a pack, his mate feels loyalty to the group through their bond. The Alpha, on the other hand, can tap into the strength of the pack. I have no idea how that’ll work with our Alpha being a witch. It makes the donor sleepy, just to warn you. After the Alpha uses a pack member’s energy, he gets tired too. But I can’t imagine that happening, since you’re not a shifter, Soph. Cary’s right; this isn’t a huge change from the direction we were already moving in. But we do need to get Valor back.”

  Sophie’s nose scrunches while Cary runs his fingers through her hair. Simple caresses come so naturally to him. I’d just look stupid trying something romantic like that.

  Money. I’m good with that. She doesn’t have more than a few changes of clothes, and it’s irritating that she doesn’t have a cell phone. What if I need to hear her voice?

  I blanch at the very boyfriend-y thing that pops into my head without permission. Since when is that acceptable?

  Still, the moment the thought occurs to me, I’m wandering into our bedroom and fishing through her clothes like a stalker. As soon as I’ve got her sizes, I flop onto the massive bed and click away on my phone, adding things to my online cart that will fit my girl. I can smell her on the sheets, and the scent drives me wild. I reward myself for getting through the chore of shopping for a woman by pilfering the sluttiest underwear selection on the site. I add probably too many pairs to my cart because as soon as I see them, I’m picturing myself tearing them off of Sophie. None of these lacy scraps look the least bit sturdy, but I don’t care. I’ll buy my little witch a new pair every day if it means I get to see her in them.

  I have no idea how to dress shop, so I let that one go. Then I pick her out a few pairs of gym shoes and nicer shoes that I’m pretty sure will make her smile. Everything I select, I put it through the test of “can I see Sophie wearing this while she rolls her eyes at me?” If I can, I smirk and add it to the cart. If not, I keep looking.

  It takes me twenty minutes to buy her a whole new wardrobe, which the tightness in my chest informs me is way too long to be away from her. No wonder packs are always hanging out together. I’m relieved Sophie ended up our Alpha and not Hagan. I can’t imagine if I had to feel this much about a dude. Though, to be fair, every time Cary sneezes, I’m calling his doctor.

  It catches me by surprise that there’s room in my heart for more than just Cary. But after I buy my woman more clothes than she’s probably ever owned, I flip through and pick out a fancy new crepe pan for Valor, a helmet for Sophie in case Hagan takes her riding on his bike, and a new paperback Western for Cary. He loves that shit.

  I breathe easier once I’ve taken care of them all, which is another thing that catches me off-guard. I don’t understand my actions; I stare at my phone in shock, as if I can’t believe what it just let me do. My bank account won’t feel the sting, but I sure do.

  When I finally look up, Sophie fills my vision. She looks pale and shaken, but the worry in her eyes is for me. Her fingers twist the hem of Cary’s shirt that she’s wearing like a party dress. “You’re upset. I don’t know why I know that, but I do. You’re upset, so I’m here. Do you want me to get Cary?”

  I want to put on my “whatever” scoff and brush aside her thoughtfulness, but when my gaze meets hers, it’s all I can do not to break down. Not into tears, obviously, but into fits of worry over just how this is all going to work.

  It’s like she knows I don’t like being hugged when I’m like this. Hugs for a good reason are fine, but hugs when you’re on the verge of throwing in the towel are the worst.

  If I had any doubts before that something freaky has changed us all, they’re gone the moment Sophie reaches out and rubs my earlobe between her thumb and forefinger. My eyes sweep shut and my whole body exhales at the simple touch.

  It’s something my mom used to do when I was a boy and couldn’t sleep. She’d sit on my bedside and massage my earlobe, promising me the monsters wouldn’t pop out of my closet and snatch at me. Sophie doesn’t know about that memory. I’m not sure Cary even knows. My heart beats erratically, and before I can stop myself, I lean forward and turn her slightly sideways to press my forehead into her hip. It’s curvy, this little bit of her, and soft enough to be my new pillow. Hagan’s made a meal of her breasts, Carrigan is covetous of her abdomen, Valor fusses over her hair—the weirdo—and he’s always staring at her ass, but this square of her body calls out to me, as if that’s where I belong. I don’t question the oddity, but lift up her shirt so I can bury my nose in her hip, inhaling deeply the fragrance of my new home. “Little witch, what have you done to me?” I whisper, teasing her skin with my lips.

  “I didn’t mean to.” Her reply is meek, and tinted with shades of distress.

  Her arousal is faint, but my dick thickens against my leg like a snake that’s just been promised a fresh meal. I know it’s not the time, but damn if she doesn’t twist me up all the same. Before I know it, I’m turning her to face me. My hands are on the backs of her thighs, lifting her to straddle my lap. She doesn’t offer up her breasts, though I know by her lidded eyes that she wouldn’t deny me free access to those delicious handfuls. That’s my little witch in a nutshell—slightly more than a handful. She’s an instinctive lover, sitting up on her knees so I can pinch and stroke her hips until I feel calm again.

 
That might take a while, but Sophie doesn’t seem to mind. She arches toward me, giving me all I need without hesitation. She rubs my earlobe while I toy with the swell of her hips. I knead her ass, feeling it tense and release under my fingertips. I love that she’s not wearing pants. I take my time calming myself down while I rile her up.

  I’m sure we look weird, writhing upright as we are, but I don’t care. I need this, though I never would’ve been able to put my finger on exactly this prescription for my pain. Sophie just knows, and I can feel the broken bits of my heart start fitting themselves back together the longer she tends to my earlobe.

  It’s the wrong time. All of this is wrong, but Sophie slides Cary’s shirt over her head, and suddenly, only a scrap of cotton separates me from burying myself inside of her. I’m a teenager all over again, desperate to get my dick someplace warm and wet. I’m aching to touch and tweak whatever comes at me. We’re both in only our underwear, and there’s something so high school and sexy about it all that I know things are going to escalate quickly.

  Hagan shuffles into the room, and I find I don’t mind one bit. I know he won’t take her away from me. It’s my turn. He had his fun last night. I’m the one in the middle of a freak-out, and Sophie’s going to use her tight little body to milk the stress out of me. Part of me doesn’t want Hagan to know that I need her to rub my earlobe, but a louder, more settled part of me shrugs, as if it’s perfectly fine for me to have no secrets from the man.

  My mouth waters when I help her out of her underwear. The pink cotton scrap is an insult to her sex appeal. She should be wrapped in silk, lace, or nothing at all. I lean back on the bed and take her with me, hefting her higher and locking my arms around her ass so she has to crouch on all fours over my head. I don’t need to tease her with my tongue—she’s wet enough—but my mouth opens for her anyway.