Orion had found someone to share the quiet with, and Luka had found someone besides me and John.
At night under the stars, Luka played with both my ribbon-filled hair and Orion’s golden locks. Their new relationship was unexpected and heartwarming.
Other connections weren’t as touching.
By far the most amusing development was Scorpius and John.
It was a classic enemies-to-lovers situation; however, John hadn’t moved past the enemies stage, and Scorpius wanted to be lovers.
From dawn to dusk, the blind king taunted John and made him squirm with sexual innuendos.
John acted like he wasn’t interested, but I’d caught him blushing and checking out Scorpius’s ass a couple times.
While we were eating around a bonfire one night, Scorpius’s hand “slipped,” and he stabbed John’s thigh with his fork suspiciously close to his crotch.
John hobbled away from the bonfire and a few minutes later he’d come back on crutches that he’d found in the estate.
We’d ribbed him for his dramatics, while he moaned that he needed to see a doctor.
“Poor guy, it was an accident,” Scorpius said. “I’m truly sorry. Please forgive me.”
It would have been believable if he wasn’t lapping at his bloody fork with an erection straining his silk pants.
“Do you want me to lick him better, my Revered?” he whispered seductively into the warm night.
“Um,” I said eloquently as I struggled to remember what my name was.
Where was I?
Who was I?
Scorpius leaned over John’s lap. Ever so slowly, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it across the bloody stab wound. Then he bit down, and John screamed.
Scorpius wiped the back of his hand across his red stained lips and smirked in my direction.
Unsurprisingly, John did not forgive him.
What was surprising was none of the men initiated sex.
There were lots of little moments.
I’d nap on the blanket beside Corvus and wake up to hardness pressing against my ass.
Scorpius would whisper “good girl” when I ate sweet fruit. Once, Orion whispered to him that the juice was dribbling down my chin, and he ordered me to, “Swallow it all for me sweetheart. Get every drop.”
I obeyed and licked my lips.
All the men groaned like they were in pain, and Scorpius openly grabbed at his crotch, but nothing came of it.
As a woman with needs, it was torturous.
Another time was when I went horseback riding with Luka he sat behind me, my back pressed flush against his front, and his hand kept accidentally stroking across my chest.
Nipples hard as rocks, I moaned and leaned back against him.
He tugged my head back harshly and kissed me wantonly with his tongue. His other hand stroked my nipples as I white-knuckled the reins.
But then he stopped and abruptly dismounted the horse.
He said something about a cold shower and disappeared.
On and on it went.
But the little moments never turned into bigger moments. I would have started to worry about the men’s interest in me, but Scorpius woke us all up each morning with a detailed explanation of all the depraved things he was going to do to our bodies.
It was definitely more of a timing thing.
So I waited.
And each day somehow got better than the last.
I called John out for checking out Scorpius’s ass, and he threw me into the lake, which had the unintended effect of freezing it over.
Orion found ice skates, and all of us took turns skating.
My power kept the lake frozen even in the summer sun.
Then Scorpius brought out more enchanted wine, and the skating really began. John challenged me to a trick competition, and he tried—and failed—to throw a flip.
Scorpius and I spent the afternoon dressing the bleeding cut on his head with white bandages. John looked ridiculous, and we were all drunk enough that we laughed about it for hours.
He was definitely concussed because he finally let me paint his fingernails the shade of Fae Bunny Pink I’d been trying to get him to wear unsuccessfully for the past week.
When he woke up the next day with a clear head and saw his nails, he bellowed as he chased me around the estate, demanding that I take it off.
I took pity on him and painted a sparkly coat over the top while he was asleep.
He grumbled and pouted, but I caught him admiring his glittering nails in the sunshine and showing them off to Luka. I even overheard him bragging to Malum that we had matching nail colors which meant I liked him the most.
The next time, Malum’s nails were also pink and all the men made fun of him.
“Do you like them?” he asked me during our daily lie-under-the-tree-together. His cheeks flushed red, and he groaned as he stared at my face. “Or do I look ridiculous? Am I being stupid?”
I leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the nose.
“I’ve never been more attracted to you than in this moment,” I said honestly. “I like that you’re rejecting toxic masculinity—you’re cute.”
He grinned proudly, then scowled. “I’m not cute, Aran. I’m a fearsome warrior who breathes fire.”
I rolled my eyes and patted his shaved head. “Okay, big guy. Whatever you say.”
He crossed his arms like he was pouting but the corner of his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“Whatever you say,” I repeated as I yawned and snuggled against his chest.
His fingers trailed through my curls as he massaged my scalp.
“I’ll always protect you,” he whispered when he thought I was asleep.
Warmth surged inside my chest and radiated through my limbs until I felt like I was burning alive in the best possible way.
Time moved forward at a lackadaisical pace.
Days felt like years, and I found myself forgetting about the war for greater stretches of time.
Other days, I’d panic and spiral as I remembered the screams.
When the memories became too much, I’d unfold my crystal wings and shoot into the sky.
I didn’t fly far.
I didn’t want to leave.
Instead, I’d float among the clouds, then pull my wings in and plummet. Adrenaline and pure bliss would fill me. Then I’d unfurl my wings and whoop with delight.
It was impossible to spiral while flying.
Sometimes, when I hovered in the still-freezing air above the clouds, I’d think about Mother.
How she’d never known such peace.
A part of me was afraid that if she’d been able to experience flying, then she’d have never gone mad.
Maybe the High Court had taken that from her? Maybe she’d taken it from herself?
When the thoughts became too much, I’d close my eyes, pull my wings in tight, and fall back toward my mates.
Life was a haze of sunshine drenched skies, enchanted wine, coy smiles, naps, trembling hugs, whimpers of pain in sleep, and laughter.
We created a fortress to heal within that was isolated from the outside world.
Then one night, everything changed.
Chapter 67
Aran
SUPRISES
Consanguineous (adjective): of the same blood or origin.
There was a loud, ominous knock on the front door, and when I opened it, Lothaire stood framed in moonlight.