Chapter 132 part 4
**Avery**
What follows is a blur of sensation and surrender. The Ancient One’s demands are as scandalous as I’d feared, pushing us to our limits and beyond. He binds us, one by one, his touch cold and deliberate. The binding ensures that we each will feel what the other does as they surrender to him. His eyes gleam with a dark hunger as he moves between us, his commands sharp and unforgiving.
I’m the first. He pushes me to my knees, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back. “Look at me,” he orders, his voice low.
I meet his gaze, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His eyes are black pools, devouring me, and for a moment, I feel myself teetering on the edge of something vast and unknown.
“You’re mine tonight,” he says, his voice a whisper. “Do you understand?” I nod, my throat too tight to speak. He smiles, a cruel, triumphant curve of his lips. “Good.”
What happens next is a whirlwind of touch and command. He uses me, his hands and mouth mapping every inch of my body, his touch both gentle and brutal. I’m a puppet in his hands, my will bending to his, my moans echoing in the chamber as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. But it’s not just about pleasure. It’s about power, about control. And the Ancient One wields both with a skill that leaves me breathless and trembling.
When he finally releases me, I’m shaking, my body slick with sweat, my mind reeling. I collapse to the floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I feel James’s hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low. I nod, unable to speak. Regina will heal my body, but I must heal my mind and soul. I have to be strong for my mates.
The Ancient One moves to Clint next, his commands sharp and unrelenting. Clint, always so dominant, so in control, is reduced to a trembling mess, his body arching and bucking as the Ancient One pushes him to his limits.
One by one, we submit. Cassius, his pride shattered as the Ancient One binds him and uses him with a cold, calculated precision. Conner, his reserved nature stripped away as he’s forced to beg, his voice hoarse and desperate. Draven, his dark dominance turned against him as the Ancient One strips him of his control, leaving him trembling and exposed.
Rory is the last. Her submissive nature makes her vulnerable, and the Ancient One exploits it, his touch gentle yet firm, his commands soft yet unrelenting. She cries out, her body arching, her voice a mix of pleasure and pain, and I feel a surge of protectiveness, a need to shield her from the darkness consuming us all.
When it’s over, we’re a mess. Our bodies are slick with sweat, our minds reeling, our souls laid bare. The Ancient One stands before us, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’ve done well,” he says, his voice smooth. “Now, for your reward.” He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “Cora is in the Shadowed Vale. But be warned—she’s not alone. And the path to her is treacherous. Use what I have given you.” With that, he vanishes, leaving us alone with the aftermath of what we’ve just endured.
We retreat to the manor, our bodies aching, our minds numb. The fire crackles in the hearth, but its warmth does little to ease the chill settling in my bones. James sits beside me, his arm around my shoulders, his touch grounding me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low. I nod, but my throat is still too tight to speak.
Clint sits across from us, his expression grim. “We did what we had to do,” he says, his voice tight. “But… fuck. That was…”
“I know,” Cassius says, his voice rough. He’s always been the strongest among us, but even he looks shaken, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet vulnerability.
Conner leans against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “We’ll find Cora,” he says, his voice steady. “And then we’ll deal with the Ancient One.”
Draven sits beside him, his dark eyes distant. “He’s not done with us,” he says, his voice low. “This was just the beginning.” Draven looks at me, “He wants more, Avery. I am sorry.”
Rory sits in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes downcast. I move to sit beside her, my hand brushing hers. “You did well,” I say, my voice soft.
She looks up, her eyes red-rimmed. “I… I don’t know if I can do that again,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand, my heart aching for her. “You won’t have to. We’ll protect you. All of us.” She nods, but her expression remains haunted. I hold her head in my hands. “Rory, I love you. You are my family now. I have always wanted one. Now that I have it, nothing, not even the Ancient One, will take it away from me.” I kiss her forehead. “Let me fight for you.”
My mates come over. Draven holds her. We all say simultaneously, “Together we will survive. Together we will overcome. Let us, trust us.” As Draven kisses Rory, I look at my men. My heart is so full that I cry as I fall into their protective embrace.
However, my gaze meets James’. I see the same question in his eyes that’s burning in mine: Was it worth it? The answer hangs between us, uncertain and unspoken. And as the fire crackles in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, I know that the true cost of our decision has yet to be revealed. The night stretches on, endless and heavy, and I wonder if we’ll ever be the same again. I hope that my mates won’t drift away from me if the Ancient One returns.
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