Chapter 12

12

S tone

Azlan serves dinner an hour later, all of us sitting around the kitchen table, a motley crew of people that shouldn’t belong together but somehow do.

An assassin who wrestles his spaghetti like it’s something alive, stabbing and poking at it with his fork. The Lord Protector’s son himself, who seems to have acquired a large love bite since this morning (does that have anything to do with the potion Rhi and Winnie were brewing – Cloudpuff? It definitely rings a damn bell). And a werebeast.

Not to mention one grumpy-assed enforcer and a washed-out professor.

Definitely a motley crew.

Which is probably why the conversation isn’t exactly flowing. It stops and starts, jumping from one topic to another – avoiding the one we’re all really thinking about. If it weren’t for Winnie and Trent, we’d probably be arguing by now, possibly wrestling each other across the table.

I’m guessing Miss Wence finally tires of the tension in the room because she gives one big and clearly fake yawn and says she’s heading to bed. Her boyfriend immediately and eagerly leaps up from his seat and then it’s just the rest of us left staring at each other.

“Are we going to bed too?” Barone asks with obvious hope in his voice, tossing his fork onto his empty plate.

Rhi gives him a hard look, the kind I remember my mom used to give me when I wasn’t behaving myself. The assassin grins at her and then slinks away from the table.

“Should we be worried?” Spencer asks, watching as Barone slips from the room.

“No,” Rhi says, biting her thumb in a way that suggests to me she’s not sure of that.

We don’t have long to contemplate what the psycho is up to though. He returns after only a few minutes, a bottle of ancient-looking liquor in one hand, and six shot glasses balancing in the other. He slams them down on the table.

“If we’re not going to fuck, we can at least have fun.”

“I don’t like your kind of fun,” Azlan growls. And considering this morning’s monologue about neck snapping, I have to agree.

“Right!” The assassin laughs. “Because a man who is as good at killing as you are, can’t possibly hate it.”

“We’re not killing anyone,” Rhi says. “Maybe we should just go to bed,” she mutters.

“To fuck?” Barone asks eagerly, making my hackles rise.

“To sleep!”

“Nah, that’s no fun.” He twists the lid off the liquor bottle and lifts the neck to his nose, taking a sharp sniff. “Fuck me, that’s strong,” he says, blinking .

He slops the bottle over and lets the clear liquid drizzle into each of the glasses, spilling half of it over the tabletop. Then he rights the bottle and slides a glass to each of us. I glare down at mine.

“There’s no way in hell I’m touching that stuff,” Azlan growls.

I dip my little finger into the liquid, half expecting to see my skin sizzle off. When it doesn’t, I dip my finger in my mouth and suck. A sickly alcohol mixture hits my tongue. “It’s not half bad,” I confirm.

“You don’t know what the hell is in it and we could be attacked at any moment,” Azlan says, ever the fucking soldier. “We need all our faculties working.”

Barone tips the shot straight into his mouth, swallows and slams his glass on the table. “My faculties,” he says, “have never worked.” He slaps a load more liquid into the glass.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, knocking back my own shot. Immediately, a warm sensation swims through my body and some of the tension I’ve been carrying ever since the academy was attacked leaves my shoulders.

I wipe at my teary eyes, focusing back in on those around us. Rhi’s shot glass is half way to her mouth.

“Miss Blackwaters,” I warn her, “you know you can’t hold your drink.” She glares at me and swallows the thing in one go. It leaves her coughing and spluttering and I shake my head. “What did I tell you?”

She gives me the finger and reaches for her water glass.

“So you’re going to sit here and get wasted?” Azlan says with obvious disapproval.

“We could fuck instead, but little rabbit doesn’t want to do that. Probably on account of all the fucking she did earlier. ”

Rhi chokes on her water and I give Tristan Kennedy the stink eye. We all know what they were doing earlier. We heard it loud and clear.

“We could make things more interesting,” Spencer says, spinning his untouched glass in his fingers.

“More interesting, how?” Rhi asks, her eyes already a little squiffy.

“We could play ‘never have I ever’.”

Azlan folds his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging in annoyance. “I left school a long time ago.”

“I’ve never played it,” Barone says, his glass already empty again.

“Me neither,” Rhi says.

“We’re not playing ‘never have I ever’,” I say, in my teacher voice.

“It might be a good way of getting to know each other better,” Rhi says.

“You only think that, Miss Blackwaters, because you’ve never played it.”

Rhi turns her gaze away from me and towards Spencer. “How do we play?”

“We take turns to make a statement – something like, never have I ever played a drinking game. If you have done the thing, you drink your drink. If you haven’t, you leave it untouched.”

“This is immature and stupid,” Azlan says.

“It sounds like fun. And I think we deserve a little bit of fun. Things have been … intense,” Rhi says, glancing first at Barone, then Spencer and then Tristan. My gaze travels around that little circle and I get a fair idea how my mate has been spending her time today. “Can I go first?” Rhi asks. Spencer nods. “Hmmm.” She taps her fingers on the table. “Never have I ever watched porn. ”

I groan. “That is so lame, sweetheart. If you’re going to insist on playing this game, at least make the questions interesting.”

She stares me square in the eye. “Have you?”

I swear and down my drink. Everyone else does too – which is hardly fucking surprising. What human hasn’t?

Rhianna and Barone apparently.

“Bullshit,” I say to him. Rhi had barely any internet connection growing up. But Barone? He’s male with a pulse. Of course he’s fucking watched porn.

“Not my thing,” he says shrugging.

“Not even snuff?” I ask darkly. He smirks at me.

“What’s that?” Rhi asks.

I change the subject. “Never have I ever made myself come thinking of someone else in this room.” I grin at her.

Rhi smirks right back at me and swallows her drink. From the corner of my eye, I see Tristan hesitate and do the same.

“Fuck, yeah, who, little rabbit? Who were you thinking about?”

She leans across the table, picks up the bottle and pours herself another shot.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Azlan says, grabbing her wrist.

“No,” she says, snatching her hand free. “And this is fun.”

“My go,” Barone says. He takes the bottle from Rhi’s hands. “Never have I ever flayed someone alive.” He spins his gaze around the group hopefully. Nobody drinks. He shakes his head and downs his own.

“You really are a sick fuck,” Spencer mutters.

“I’ve seen you rip a man’s throat out, Spencer Moreau,” the assassin says, something dangerous in his tone .

“I have another one.” Rhi snatches the bottle off him. “Never have I ever been in love.”

It’s clear she says it to try and diffuse the tension in the room. It has the opposite effect. Suddenly everyone is looking uncomfortable, like this is a far worse question and love a far dirtier word than murder and torture.

“Oh, come on,” she says, as her cheeks pinken. “Nobody? Nobody’s been in love?”

Azlan reaches for his glass and silently drinks the contents.

“Who?” Rhi asks, her tone suddenly sharp. And this is why I didn’t want to play this game. It never ends well.

“I’m in love now,” he says, refolding his arms, “with you.”

“That wasn’t the question, asshole,” I mutter. “She asked if you’d been in love before.”

“Then no, I haven’t.”

Rhi relaxes.

“I have one,” Spencer says. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

“Jeez,” I say, “where are all the easing-us-in questions like never have I ever jumped out of a plane?”

“With or without a parachute?” Renzo asks.

“If you’d jumped out of a plane without a parachute you’d be dead.”

“Would I?” he says, looking down at his body as if to check it’s still there.

“Can we get back to my question?” Spencer says.

“What was it?”

“Threesome.”

Yep, I was right, this game is less about getting to know each other and more about digging for information about one another. And Spencer’s definitely digging; his eyes glued on Rhi waiting for her response .

She knocks back her drink, as do I, Azlan and Tristan. The assassin whistles.

“Fuck, yes, little rabbit. I love how bad you are.”

Tristan looks at his friend, the glass still full in his hand. “You never have?” he says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Girls at the academy seemed to think the best way of climbing into my bed was if there were two of them.”

Rhi, swaying ever so slightly on her seat, glares daggers at him; her usual inhibitions definitely impeded.

Tristan leans back in his chair with that usual nonplussed expression. “Piglet, I’m not the only one.” He points at me and Azlan.

“Yes, but their threesome was with me!” she blurts out and I decide I won’t be informing her that that particular threesome wasn’t my first, although I’m pretty sure it was Azlan’s.

“So you are happy to be shared?” the assassin says, leaning forward on his seat, his eyes darker than ever.

“Clearly, she is,” Spencer says, scowling at me and my friend.

“How many times have you done it?” Tristan asks, the bored expression gone and the interest clear on his face. “The three of you?”

“Once,” Rhi hiccups and covers her mouth, “and a half.”

“And did you enjoy it?” Tristan asks next, leaning forward on his seat.

“I think we should all go get some sleep,” Azlan says, pushing back his chair.

“Nah,” Spencer shakes his head, “things are just getting interesting.”

“Piglet, did you enjoy being shared?” Tristan repeats.

Rhi’s honey eyes spin over us all. “Yes,” she says honestly .

“We wouldn’t have done it otherwise,” Azlan says in a grump. “We’re not into making girls do stuff they don’t like.” He glares at Barone and then his cousin.

Tristan ignores him. “You think you’d like to do it again?”

“We have important matters to be considering. Our safety – Rhi’s in particular – for one. Your dick and–”

“Yes,” Rhi says, meeting Tristan’s gaze, all fire and heat, “I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

Tristan licks his lips like her words are something delicious and I can’t help but groan; the memory of that afternoon still emblazoned in my memory, scorching hot and erotic.

“You’ve drunk too much,” Azlan says to her, and she twists her head and gives him that bratty glare that drives me wild.

“I haven’t. He asked me a question and I answered. I’m not ashamed of what we did. I’m not ashamed of liking it. I’m not ashamed of wanting more.” Barone slides her another shot, winking at Azlan as he does, but Rhi leaves it untouched. “Let’s be real here. I have five fated mates – all of you. You know how strong the attraction is, how forcefully I’m pulled towards you, how forcefully, you’re pulled towards me. You must know it’s the same with the others. And if you have a problem with that, Azlan, then maybe it’s better we discuss it now.”

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

“No jealousy?” she says.

He crosses his arms again. “No!” he says defiantly, then caves under her scrutinizing glare. “A little.”

“The jealousy is a downside to this … situation,” his cousin says, “but it’s balanced by a hell of a lot of upsides.”

“Such as?” Rhi asks .

“Being with you,” he says, “sharing you with your other mates.”

“Watching you get fucked,” Barone adds.

“Yeah,” Tristan says, the room as quiet as a priest’s cupboard, the confessions coming thick and fast now. “I’d find that hot. I’ve never had a threesome with another dude before but I like the idea.”

“Azlan?” Rhi asks.

“I don’t like the idea of you sleeping with him,” he says, jerking his chin towards the assassin.

“Too late!” the assassin says, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

The rest of us all spin our gazes in Rhi’s direction.

“Seriously?” I say. Then I frown. “Did he force you, sweetheart?”

“No!” she cries, swaying slightly in her seat.

“I don’t know how you can trust him,” Azlan mutters.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” the assassin says.

“I’m sorry if I don’t take your word for that.”

“He’s not, Azlan,” Rhi says. “I trust him on this. You need to trust him too.”

“He just told us he flayed someone alive.”

“I like making her happy,” Barone says with such simplicity I can’t help believing him. “And I made her really, really happy.”

“Well,” I say, letting out a puff of air, “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

Rhi giggles, the laughter coming thicker and faster when she takes in Azlan’s grumpy stance. The girl has definitely had too much to drink.

“Isn’t it a good thing that I’m okay with this?” she asks him. She stands up from her seat, stumbling a little before she regains her balance. Then she tiptoes over to him, wrapping her arms around him. “Especially as it seems we’re going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future.”

I rub at my beard. She’s not wrong. Being together – all of us – even these other men, even Barone, has a contentment humming in my bond like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m in no doubt that together is how we are meant to be and if I’m struggling to keep my hands off Rhi, the others must be too. Better that we navigate our way around this strange set up, than fight it. Better we find a way that leaves us all happy – especially Rhi.

“I just want you to be happy,” Azlan says, as if reading my thoughts, “happy and safe.”

“I am happy,” she says, smiling at him, “happier than I’ve ever been – safer than I’ve ever felt – which is pretty surreal considering the leader of this country wants me dead.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he says.

“ We won’t let that happen,” Tristan adds.

Rhi balances up on her tiptoes and kisses my friend. A gentle kiss that expresses her gratitude but deepens as the minutes pass. I watch them together, concluding that Barone and Tristan are both right, watching her with one of her mates is hot. Surprisingly so.

She pulls away from Azlan and then she tiptoes over to me next, swaying again, her eyes slightly out of focus. She bends down to kiss me like she kissed him, her hands tangled in my hair. The others watch us, electricity sizzling in the air and in my veins.

Just as the kiss has my heart pumping blood down south, she steps back and walks over to Barone. He pulls her into his lap and kisses her hard on the mouth. I’m rolling my eyes, unsurprised that Barone would be greedy like that, taking more than the rest of us, but then he sets her back on her feet and she heads to Tristan next. He watches her come, his emerald-green eyes darkening to olive. He takes a hold of her waist, positioning her between his legs as she kisses him too. The electricity and magic vibrating in the air is so violent now it’s sparking.

After a moment, she rests her hand flat on his chest and pushes him away and then she’s turning to Spencer. His eyes seem to flash and I wonder if the beast is in there somewhere, watching as their mate stalks towards them. He kisses her, hands traveling all over her body hungrily and then she’s pulling away from him too.

Her eyelids are heavy with a mixture of lust and alcohol. She bites her bottom lip between her teeth. I snag a flicker of her thoughts. Definitely impaired.

“And now I really am going to bed,” she says, attempting to walk seductively towards the door and tripping over her own feet.

I catch her with my arm and she lands in my lap. “I think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Are you going to come with me?” she asks, “all of you?”

Barone goes to answer her, but I beat him to it.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.” She opens her mouth to argue with me and a hiccup pops out instead. “Exactly. Probably best you go sleep this off.”

“This is what I want,” she says, her eyes struggling to focus on my face.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” I say, this conversation sucker-punching me good and proper. “But it’s probably a decision best made when you’re sober.”

She leans and whispers in my ear, thinking she’s keeping her next words between me and her when really she’s so loud we all hear. “But I might not be brave enough to do this when I’m sober. ”

“Rhi,” I say, “you’re the bravest person I know. And I know him.” I jerk my thumb in Azlan’s direction. Then I gather her up in my arms and carry her out of the room.

I expect her to kick up a fuss like she usually does when she doesn’t get her own way. Instead, she snuggles into me, resting her head against my shoulder, and she’s out cold by the time I’ve reached the top of the stairs.

I lay her in the bed and then stir her, forcing her to drink a whole glass of water before I let her nuzzle down under the covers and drift away.

Then I get the hell out of there. In the dining room the others are still sitting there in a stunned silence, nursing their drinks. I pour myself another and knock it back.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself, knowing that, even if it was the right thing to do, I just turned down one hell of an opportunity.

An opportunity, given our current circumstances, may never come around again.