Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

(Warning: Mature Content Ahead)

Celeste’s POV

*****

Bloodoak Academy, 4:25 Pm

We arrived at the academy grounds only thirty minutes ago.

You’d think I’d use the time to rest, plan or do anything else than what I was doing now. However—

"F–Fuck," I groaned, my head flinging back when Atlas slammed into me, skin rubbing against skin. "F–Faster... fuck..."

Yep.

That was me.

In Atlas’ bathroom, under the shower after he invited me for refreshments. Little did he know my mind trailed to something more naughty at the word ’refreshment’.

He currently had my back pinned to the cold marble wall, one hand keeping my wrists held high while the other held my waist firmly. His kisses on my neck were soft and deliberate, his golden eyes opening for a few seconds.

"It’s not like I’m complaining," he barely breathed, the trickling water making his eyes bat rapidly. "But are we certain we should be doing this? Now?"

I froze for a beat.

’Why don’t you tell him about your nightmare instead of trying to bury the trauma under sex?’ my wolf suggested. ’Or better yet, tell your mom.’

I would’ve probably listened—if it weren’t for the arousal pooling in my core. I lifted my legs, wrapping them around Atlas until he went even deeper inside me. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Do I look like someone uncertain?" I whispered into his ear, ignoring the slight trembling from my knees. "Take away my ability to walk, Atlas. Please..."

Without warning, he let go of my wrists, placing that hand on my waist as well. Then his palms slid down my thighs, squeezing so hard I could already imagine the bruises it would cause.

"As you wish, little fire." He rasped on my neck before pressing a kiss on it. He sucked, simultaneously increasing his pace. "Argh—gods..."

With my arms free, I was able to wrap them around him. A broken moan escaped my mouth, echoing off the walls like a declaration of sin.

Grunts and the sound of our bodies colliding resounded through the bathroom. He didn’t try keeping me from making sounds.

On the contrary, he sucked harder and moved his length more sharply instead of deeper. His thumbs found my folds, kneading them while his mouth went off my neck.

He wrapped his warm lips around one of my nipples, sucking agonisingly slowly.

"Y–Yes!" I shuddered, my thighs buckling tighter around him. "D–Don’t stop that."

A chuckle left his lips, the vibration on my breast leaving me reckless. "You’ll have to beg, little fire."

"Please, Atlas." I didn’t hesitate. "P–Please—mmph! Oh, gods—!"

The buildup was explosive.

And when it finally reached the point of no return... I cried. I buried my head on his neck, squirming as I came undone. Atlas grunted, his fingers digging so hard into my thighs that his nails broke skin.

I knew how feral he could get during sex.

I saw a tip of that when he joined the others to completely wreck me the other night. But this? The way he pinned me almost made me forget why I sought this to begin with.

Or what I was trying to forget deep down.

"Argh..." Atlas pulled out, spilling his hot seed on the floor.

However, he did it too fast and lost his balance.

"Whoa!"

We both fell to the floor, me on my butt and him barely keeping himself stable with his elbows.

For half a second, the world went quiet—then Atlas let out a startled grunt as his elbow skidded uselessly on the wet marble.

"Oh—spirits—!"

I burst out laughing before I could stop myself.

Like, really laughing.

Atlas froze above me, water still cascading down his back, golden eyes wide. Then he looked down at me and something in his expression cracked.

A breath left him.

Then a warm laugh.

"We just—" he tried, then laughed again. "We just wiped out like idiots."

"I think," I wheezed, wiping water from my eyes, "this is what happens when you ignore basic physics."

He shook his head, hair dripping water onto my collarbone. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I grinned up at him. "Are you okay, hero?"

"I’ll survive." He shifted carefully, then paused. "Though I may never recover from the humiliation."

I snorted.

He rolled onto his side beside me, the marble cold against my back now that the adrenaline had eased. For a moment, we just lay there, letting the water rinse away the heat and tension.

Then Atlas reached over, turned off the shower, and offered me his hand.

"Come on," he said softly. "Before we drown or slip again."

I took it.

He helped me up, steady this time, hands firm and grounding. We didn’t rush. There was something unspoken in the air now—less frantic, more... tender.

He grabbed a towel, draped it around my shoulders, then took another for himself.

"You good?" He asked again, quieter.

I nodded. "Yeah."

It wasn’t a lie.

Not entirely.

We moved back under the water—but slower now. No urgency. Just warmth and closeness. Atlas washed my hair with gentle fingers, humming absentmindedly under his breath while I leaned into him, eyes closed.

For a while, it felt... normal. Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

"Celeste," he said eventually. "Can I ask you something?"

I tilted my head against his chest. "Depends. Is it incriminating?"

A huff of amusement. "Did you really come in here for refreshments... or were you trying to distract yourself from something?"

I opened one eye.

"...Wow," I said flatly. "Am I that obvious?"

He smiled—not smug, not knowing. Just warm. "Only to someone paying attention."

I sighed, resting my forehead against him. "Guess I forgot you’re annoyingly perceptive."

His arms wrapped around me, firm and steady. "You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore. You know that, right?"

I swallowed.

"Your parents know now," he continued softly. "About the Vein. About the bonds. About everything that matters."

I nodded. "I know."

"And we’re here," he added. "All of us. Even when things get... weird. Or overwhelming. Or terrifying."

My wolf stirred faintly—quiet approval.

I said nothing.

Because even as his words wrapped around me like armour, my mind flickered back to dark clouds and red lightning. To Nyx’s voice. The way she said my existence wasn’t entirely my own.

I didn’t tell him.

Instead, I tilted my head and smirked. "So... another round?"

Atlas laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Tempting. Extremely." Then, reluctantly, he pulled back. "But if we’re gone any longer, the others are going to notice. And I’d rather not explain that."

"Coward," I teased.

"Responsible," he corrected. "Now come on. Get dressed."

.

.

We met the others outside twenty minutes later.

I was still adjusting my jacket when I spotted Luther and Silas leaning near the dormitory building, talking quietly. Azrael stood a little apart—hands in his pockets, sunglasses on, posture unreadable.

Something was... off.

Luther’s jaw was tight. Silas looked tense in that careful, watchful way of his. And when Atlas joined me, his gaze flicked briefly to Azrael—just long enough for me to notice.

I filed that away.

"Dean Thorne summoned us," Silas said as we approached. "Said it was urgent."

"Of course he did," I muttered.

We headed toward the administrative wing, the familiar stone corridors of Bloodoak closing in around us. The academy felt different now. Less safe if that made sense.

When we reached the Dean’s office, I stepped forward and knocked.

No answer.

"That’s odd," Luther said. "He said to come immediately."

Azrael’s head tilted slightly. His nostrils flared as something in his posture shifted.

"...Do you smell that?" He murmured.

My stomach tightened. "Smell what?"

"Blood." He said quietly.

Before anyone could stop him, he reached for the handle and shoved the door open.

The smell hit me first.

Metallic. Heavy.

Then I saw it.

A body sprawled across the office floor. A woman in a cleaner’s uniform. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, skin waxy and pale.

Two dark puncture wounds marred her neck.

My breath left me in a sharp, silent gasp.

"Oh gods," Silas whispered.

Azrael went very still.

Atlas was the first to move.

He crossed the room in three long strides and dropped to a knee beside the woman, fingers pressing lightly to her neck. His jaw tightened almost immediately.

"She’s dead," he said quietly. Then, after a beat, "Cold already."

My chest felt hollow.

I stepped closer despite myself, eyes dragging to the wounds. Two clean punctures. Too precise.

"This reminds me of..." My voice trailed off, dread finishing the sentence for me.

Silas nodded grimly. "Miss Benedicta."

The same bloody holes. The same lifeless stare. The same awful stillness that didn’t belong in a place meant for learning.

A sick thought bloomed in my head before I could stop it. "...Do you think the Dean did this?" I asked softly.

The words hung in the air like poison.

Luther snapped his head toward me. "Celeste—"

"Did I do what?" The voice came from behind us.

All five of us spun around at once.

Dean Thorne stood in the doorway, posture relaxed, eyes sharp as ever as they flicked from our faces... to the body on the floor.

One brow lifted slowly.

"I was delayed," he said mildly. "But I don’t recall killing anyone today."

Silence crashed down.

And something told me—

Nothing about this was going to be simple anymore.