Obsession: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (The Mate Games #1)(69)

She took a big gulp of her wine and nodded. “People freak out when they realize you get glimpses of the future. They either start demanding every little detail, or they want nothing to do with you.”

“So, you had a vision?” I swallowed back the tension building in my gut. “About me?”

She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “Nothing specific. They don’t work that way. It’s just images and emotions. I saw enough to know something’s coming for you, Sunday. I don’t know what or who or when, but I know these men are part of it. My vision made one thing clear. You need them. So I asked them to keep you safe.”

That changed things. A cold shard of fear sliced deep, lodging itself in my belly. She wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t serious. “You asked them to watch over me? And even Kingston agreed?”

“Believe it or not, getting them to agree wasn’t the hard part. They’re all crazy about you. The second they realized you were in danger, they were all but demanding to be the one to save you. It was the working together part they struggled with. But, in the end, all of them came around.” She frowned then, a shadow passing through her eyes. “There’s a fourth figure I sense around you. I didn’t see a face, so I’m not sure who it’s supposed to be, but he’s out there.”

I squirmed under her scrutiny. I knew who she saw. Who I tried—and failed—not to think about. Was she also a secret mind reader? I tried to bring up the mental shield Noah had been teaching me to use just in case. She didn’t need to know my sordid fantasies about Caleb. No one did. Panic clutched my throat, causing my breaths to come in shallow gasps.

Moira reached out, her brows furrowed. “I’m so sorry, Sunday. If I’d realized how much it would upset you, I wouldn’t have done it. I just wanted to protect you.” As soon as her hand connected with mine, a frisson of electric energy shot up my arm, and a chill bolted down my spine. The world around me went gray, and my head swam.

“Moira, what—”

I stared at her, my vision clearing as she came into focus. Her eyes were clouded, a pale smoky white. Eerie and unnerving.

“Moira! Moira, are you okay?”

Her limbs trembled, eyes rolling back in her head. Holy fuck, was she having a seizure? What did I do? How could I help her? Her hand released mine, and she went still.

As quick as it had come over her, the fit or spell or whatever it had been was gone. Blinking rapidly, she shook her head, her hair changing from a vibrant indigo to a deep emerald green. When her eyes lifted back to mine, genuine fear shone in their depths.

“Moira, what is it?”

“I saw . . .” She licked her lips, her voice hoarse. “It was a vision. Sunday, the things I saw.” She shook her head, refusing to elaborate on whatever had put that haunted look in her eyes. “You have a choice to make. They’re with you for a reason. If you choose wrong, the consequences will be dire.” The tremble in her words scared me. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“What consequences?”

“Death, Pestilence, Famine . . . and War.”

“Like the apocalypse?”

Swallowing hard, she locked gazes with me. “I think so.”

Jesus. If that wasn’t enough to knock the wind out of you . . . I sat there, her words heavy in my mind . . . and my heart. I knew the idea of having them all was too good to be true.

“Are you saying that if I don’t choose correctly, I’ll start the end of the world?”

Moira nodded.

I let out a burst of hysterical laughter. “So . . . no pressure then.”





Chapter

Thirty-Five





SUNDAY





Professor Moriarty droned on, and it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. The man had a monotone that could have made an erotic novel sound positively boring. Add to that the history of a centuries-long blood feud, and he’d lost me the second his mouth opened.

The only positive thing about the history class was being sandwiched between Noah and Alek. I was overwhelmed by the way their scents seemed to complement each other. Even though I’d made a resolution to stop thinking about anyone other than Noah in that way. It was one thing to tell myself that and something else entirely to get my body on board.

Apparently, ending my twenty some odd year dry spell had turned me into a thirsty bitch. Noah took excellent care of me, often keeping me up through several toe-curling orgasms well into the wee hours of the morning. And yet, here I was, picturing what it would be like if Alek and I did the same. Or better yet, all three of us.

Stop. It.

I shifted restlessly in my seat, adjusting my torso so I was positioned more toward Noah than Alek. Warm eyes the color of melted honey met mine, Noah’s brows furrowing as he tried to get a read on me. I had my thoughts blocked in the hope I could focus, and even though he’d been teaching me to do it, I could tell he didn’t like the separation.

Long fingers trailed across my wrist and up the underside of my forearm in seemingly mindless patterns. I loved the feel of his skin on mine, the clarity his touch brought me, the feeling of pure connection. We were supposed to be together. I was making the right choice. It was Noah.

Alek’s arm brushed against my back, disrupting my attempt to behave. Almost as if he could sense me trying to keep him in his own little box and refused to play along. I straightened, subtly pulling away only for his thigh to press against mine. As frustrated as I wanted to be, I secretly loved that he was keeping the two of us connected.