My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 344

Dahlia’s POV

“Careful not to jostle her.” Logan’s hushed voice cut through the haze.

I felt the solid strength of Liam carrying me, his scent wrapping around me like a balm. The air told me we were back at Blood Moon, and a part of me insisted I should demand to be put down and walk in like the Luna I was meant to become. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not when I was nestled so perfectly in my mate’s arms. After what we’d just done in the car, walking into the packhouse reeking of sex wasn’t exactly ideal—we all needed a shower before facing anyone.

Everything else that night slipped past in a fog. I remembered being carried upstairs, strong arms peeling off my clothes, gentle fingers working shampoo through my hair while I stood numbly in the spray. Someone had toweled me off, another had slipped an oversized T-shirt over my head—Liam’s, unmistakably. Then came the warmth of their bodies flanking me in bed, the soft press of lips, and then darkness.

Only when I blinked my eyes open in the dim room did I realize how depleted I’d been. My heat had drained me more than I’d known. I might’ve drifted back to sleep, but then I heard a voice—one I recognized instantly.

“Don’t hurt her. This wasn’t her fault.” Logan’s voice. Then the door clicked shut.

My breath caught.

Who was he talking about? And to whom?

Surely not me. And if it was, then it couldn’t be Liam he was addressing. If there was one truth I held onto, it was that neither of them would ever harm me.

That thought jolted me fully awake.

Where was I? Was I in danger?

Panic clawed at me as I tried to sit up, only to discover my wrists were restrained—cuffed above my head to the headboard.

My heart thundered in my chest. I forced myself to stay calm and scanned the room.

That’s when I saw him.

Liam, seated in the shadows. One ankle crossed over his knee, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes locked on me like a predator watching prey. There was heat in his gaze, yes—but also something darker, unreadable.

The intensity of it sent a chill through me, but I tamped it down. I knew this man. Knew he’d never truly hurt me.

Still, that look… it stirred something inside me.

My body reacted before my mind could process the unease. Wetness bloomed between my legs under the weight of his gaze.

“I can smell you, Angel,” he said, voice dripping with seduction. “You want me?”

“I always want you,” I breathed, shame nowhere to be found.

He set the glass aside and rose from the chair, his movements slow and deliberate. Predatory. Dangerous.

“Is that so?” he murmured, bracing his arms on either side of me, caging me in. His eyes burned into mine. There was hardness there—something unresolved.

“Your behavior lately suggests otherwise. But that’s fine. You’ll remember, Angel. You’ll remember who you belong to before I’m done.”

My breath hitched.

Oh. Shit.

Liam’s mouth descended between my thighs without warning, his shoulders pressing my legs apart as he dragged them over his broad frame. There was no tenderness in the way he devoured me. He didn’t bother teasing, didn’t coax me toward readiness—I was already there, and he knew it.

His fingers slammed into me, three thick digits filling me with bruising intent. Each thrust struck my core with pinpoint accuracy, pulling a violent climax from me in seconds. His tongue lashed my clit as I cried out his name.

“Aaahh! Fuck, Liam!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, devouring every sound I made. “Say it again!”

He didn’t let up. My body barely had time to recover before he pushed me toward another peak.

“W-wait… what are you doing?” I gasped, writhing against the restraints.

“I’m making damn sure you never want to leave again,” he said, pausing only long enough to speak. “Now tell me—who do you belong to?”

“You! I belong to you!” I screamed, as another wave of ecstasy tore through me.

“Damn right, Angel,” he gritted. “And when I’m done, you’ll never be able to walk away again.”

I squirmed, tugging at the cuffs, overstimulation mounting like a tidal wave. He wouldn’t stop. His hands held my thighs down, his tongue unrelenting, drawing orgasm after orgasm from me until my body was trembling, nearly convulsing.

I sobbed his name, begged him to stop—but he was possessed.

“One more,” he demanded, voice low and dangerous.

“I—I can’t,” I whimpered.

“Yes, you can.” He doubled down, tongue pressing harder, faster.

I broke.

The tears came unbidden. My heart cracked beneath the weight of his emotions slamming into me—rage, grief, desperation.

“Please, stop!” I choked, the sobs overtaking me. “I can feel it… your pain, your anger—I can’t take it!”

Liam froze.

His head snapped up, horror etched into his face. His anguish mirrored mine.

He released me at once, uncuffing my wrists with trembling hands. Then I was in his arms, pressed to his chest as he rocked me gently, whispering apologies against my hair.

“I’m sorry. Angel, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry. Please don’t leave me again.”

His voice cracked with every word, and I felt his tears mingle with mine.

We held each other for what felt like forever, speaking only through the bond, until the storm calmed. When I was finally able to breathe again, I turned in his lap and cupped his face in my hands.

“I’m so sorry, Liam.”

“You don’t—”

“I do,” I interrupted. “I hurt you. I was blinded by my own pain, and I took it out on both of you. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve fought for us.”

My voice broke, but I pushed on.

“I can’t promise things won’t get hard again, but I swear I’ll never run. I’ll stand by you both. I swear it.”

His arms tightened around me, drawing me close as he inhaled my scent.

“And I swear to you, you’ll never have to fight alone,” he whispered into my hair. “You are everything to us, Lia. Our breath, our life, our soul. We’d rather die than lose you. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” I murmured into his chest. “Because I feel the same way.”

We stayed like that, lost in each other, wrapped in the peace of our reconciliation.

Until the door slammed open.

Logan stood in the doorway, wild-eyed and shirtless, sweat dripping down his sculpted chest. He was furious—and undeniably beautiful.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” he growled, his eyes locked on Liam.

But the rage in his face faltered when he saw how I clung to his twin, how safe and loved I looked in his arms.

“I—I felt it,” he stammered. “Your pleasure… then pain. I didn’t know what was happening.”

“I’m okay,” I assured him softly, reaching out a hand.

He came to us, folding me into his arms, burying his face in my hair.

“We had to work through some things,” I murmured. “But we’re okay now.”

His arms tightened. “Good. But you and I need to talk—soon.”

I nodded.

“But first,” he continued, stepping back, “we need to go see the elders.”

The mood shifted instantly. We got up, showered, dressed. Nerves gnawed at us all.

Whatever the elders had to tell us—it wasn’t going to be good. And we knew it.

Still, hand in hand, we walked toward the unknown. Together.