Chapter 1

The throne room has become not only my kingdom but my home. As we stand in the center of the room, my back to his chest, I allow the sensations and feelings he evokes within me to flood my system, my long lashes fluttering shut.

This…

Standing in his arms…

In any of their arms…

It’s where I belong.

I don’t need a kingdom built on blood, sweat, and tears. A kingdom shrouded in darkness and sin. A throne built from bones and stitched together with fear.

I just need them.

He brushes at the back of my neck before trailing his fingers down my arm. When he reaches my hand, he intertwines his fingers with mine, squeezing once.

As always, flames spark in my veins at the menial touch and liquid heat pools in my stomach.

“Guess who?” His husky voice curls around me until I’m practically drowning in it.

“The mailman?” I ask immediately, conjuring up images of the comedy Rion made me watch the other day. Well, he watched it, and I merely looked through his eyes. It was a hilarious story about a wife who was cheating on her husband with the—you guessed it—mailman.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, Bambi.” Abel releases me, and instantly, my body cries at the loss of connection. I turn in the direction of my sunshine twin and burrow my face in his neck. I breathe in his sweet scent as a low chuckle reverberates through his chest. He drops his hand to my lower back, the heat from his skin searing me through my white dress. “There is no way a mailman can get down here.”

“Not true!” Rion pipes in from somewhere…above me? He must be lying on the rafters again. “Booty Snap used to work for the postal service before he ended up here.”

“There’s someone named Booty Snap?” I ask softly, cocking my head to the side. “Does he have a good…err…booty?”

Abel growls and pulls me back against his chest once more. I allow my head to rest snugly on his shoulder, grazing the skin of his neck with my teeth.

“Don’t talk about another man’s booty,” he warns darkly, and Rion, above me, breaks into raucous laughter.

When his laughter finally begins to subside, he manages to stutter out, “Y-You said booty.”

I don’t need working eyes to know that Abel will be rolling his.

“Why are you here, Shifter?” the demon asks as he peppers languid kisses up and down my neck. Lightning shoots through me as I melt against him.

“I thought you were supposed to be training Nina, not kissing her,” Rion points out helpfully, his voice sounding from directly in front of me. I don’t even jump at his sudden arrival. I’ve become used to Rion’s ninja ways.

“But I like kissing,” I say with a giggle as I enthusiastically press my lips to the base of Abel’s throat. His pulse skips a beat as a low groan escapes him.

“I like kissing too.” Rion takes a step closer until they’re caging me in—an impenetrable wall of solid, well-defined muscle. “But only if I’m kissing you, Buttercup. And your titties. Can I say titties? Or do you prefer mangos? Squash? Gah, not squash. Abort mission! I will not be kissing any squash, thank you very much. I will kiss Damien though, but that’s only because we’re totally a ship. Dion for the win! We masturbated together, so that practically makes us husband and husband.” Rion’s monologue is cut off by a rather girly squeal, and I immediately push my awareness into Abel’s mind.

It’s a gift I’ve had since I was a young child. Though my eyes may be blind, I’m able to see more clearly than any other person I know. I can literally enter another person’s head and use their eyes…and their other senses, though I’m not as skilled at that yet.

Damien has his knife held to Rion’s throat as the eccentric shifter releases peals of hearty laughter. As always, the two are as different as night and day.

Rion is only a few years older than me, and his tan skin reminds me of burnt porcelain, his arms sleeved in intricate tattoos. The most recent one, applied only a couple of weeks ago and still red-rimmed, depicts an unfurling yellow flower with exactly six petals.

A buttercup.

His straight brown brows shadow even darker eyes, as dark as obsidian. His brown hair is buzzed on both sides with artful waves at the top.

Damien, on the other hand, looks as if he stepped off of a magazine cover. His dark hair is slicked away from his aristocratically handsome face. Everything about this man is perfectly proportionate—from his high cheekbones to chiseled jawline to smooth brows currently furrowed in annoyance. He wears a crisp black suit that clings to his lean frame, emphasizing the muscles he keeps hidden. He’s smooth, elegant, and so incredibly handsome that my mind goes numb and my thoughts turn sluggish. He’s a powerful mage with the ability to conjure basic elements and use healing magic. He is also able to procure rare items for those of us inside the prison, such as new clothes, speciality foods, and games…though I don’t believe he uses his magic to get them. As a skilled assassin, he has numerous contacts throughout the world who help him smuggle stuff inside.

“Damien,” I say with a smile, and he turns his head slightly to pierce me with his brilliant sea-blue gaze. Immediately, he slides the knife back down his sleeve and strides towards me, easily removing me from Abel’s embrace and into his own.

“Angel,” he breathes in a voice he only reserves for me. To the rest of the world, he appears desensitized, almost impassive, but I see the man brimming with passion underneath. Nothing but warmth emanates from his eyes, slowly melting the ice encased around his heart. He considers himself frigid, incapable of love and affection, but he proves to me every day how wrong that notion is. “Excuse me for a second, my love. I need to go gut Rion.”

“Rude,” Rion huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you wanted me out of my clothes, all you had to do was ask, not threaten me with murder.” When Damien freezes, his eyes frosting over, and Rion’s smirk grows, I know I need to de-escalate the situation before Damien quite literally decides to kill my shifter mate. Rion loves pushing his buttons—but only when I’m around to be a buffer.

Pushing myself onto my tiptoes, I press my lips to the corner of Damien’s mouth. Instantly, he relaxes, arms banding around me and evoking an irrevocable sense of safety and security. “No murder.”

Damien sighs disgruntledly but concedes. With another smile, I kiss his lips again and dance backwards, pulling out of Abel’s head and embracing my customary darkness. I’ve learned to accept the monsters that lurk in the darkest corners. Heck, I’ve even learned to love them. It’s not the dark I’m afraid of. Not anymore.

“Are you here to check on us?” I tease, jumping on the balls of my feet and holding my hands up like a prized fighter. “See if we’re actually training? Kicking butt?”

“You can kick my butt anytime,” Rion says suggestively, earning him another whack from Damien.

When we discovered the truth about my heritage—that Councilwoman Alyssa was actually my biological mother and that I was part angel, part demon, and part human—my guys insisted that I needed to train. Fortunately, I have two demons of my own to teach me how to wield my darker side. Damien has helped me with my angel lineage, despite being a mage himself. Now, his nickname for me takes on an entirely different meaning. Even Braelyn, Rion’s second in command and one of my closest female friends, has been helping with my training.

“Today, you’re going to go inside Rion’s head and not only use his senses, but hear his thoughts as well.” Damien speaks candidly, almost nonchalantly, as if he has no doubt in his mind that I’ll be able to achieve the impossible.

I’m able to speak telepathically to my men, but so far, I haven’t been able to hear any of the thoughts they don’t wish to share with me. I’m not even sure if I want to invade their privacy like that. There are some things that deserve to be secret.

My hesitation must be evident, for Damien sighs once more. I hear the familiar clack of his polished loafers against the cement floor before he comes to a stop in front of me, the heat from his body almost palpable. He places his hand beneath my chin and guides my face up towards his.

“You need to learn how to hone your powers,” he says curtly. “You’re unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.”

“Shit, man, you can’t just say that to a girl,” Abel groans from somewhere behind him.

“You’re different,” Damien continues, ignoring Abel’s interruption. “And that makes you a target.”

“I’m…different?” I whisper, rubbing at my arms. At first, my differences lay with my sight, or lack thereof. It’s unnerving to know that there are even more things that set me apart from the others.

“Fucking hell,” Abel gripes beneath his breath. And then, voice muffled, he adds, “Compliment her. Quickly.”

“And you have nice hair,” Damien finishes, as if that one compliment can take the sting out of his previous words.

“There’s nothing wrong with being different,” Rion breaks in. “I’m different. Actually, my mom says I’m so different that we had to do ten different paternity tests to determine who my true father was. Spoiler alert—he called himself the human bungee cord.”

“Please, Angel.” Damien’s voice is soft—too soft for the others to hear. It’s a voice meant solely for me. “I can’t sleep knowing that you could be in danger.”

I release a ragged breath, shoulders physically deflating like a storm has swept the tension away in one fatal wave. “If Rion agrees.” The last thing I want to do is take away his free will. If Rion doesn’t want me sifting through his private thoughts, then I won’t. It’s as simple as that. I love him enough to respect his decision.

Of course, I shouldn’t have been worried.

“I’ve been wanting you in my head for months now,” Rion says excitedly. “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment. Penetrate me, Buttercup. Penetrate me nice and deep.”

“Am I the only normal one here?” Abel murmurs as flames immediately engulf both of my cheeks. Thanks to the men, I’ve been better at understanding…err…sexual innuendos. They never fail to make me blush scarlet, though.

“If you’re sure…” I trail off warily, stomach twisting into dozens of tight, intricate knots, before I close my eyes and focus on the awarenesses around me. Each one is a brilliant portal of light, and all I have to do is tug on the one I want. Damien’s can only be described as cold, a frozen tundra one can become lost in. Abel’s reminds me distinctly of sunshine, while Rion’s is a combination of the two, evoking feelings of joy from deep within me. It’s his I travel to, until I’m able to see through his eyes.

His gaze is trained firmly on me, as if there’s nowhere else he can even look. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his gaze, but also empowering. Through his vision, I can see my thick black hair cascading loosely down my back in soft waves. Damien has procured a white dress for me that cinches around my waist before spilling down to my calves. All of the men have a strange fascination with me in white dresses. And to be honest, I like the way the color contrasts with my onyx hair. I’ve never cared about my looks before, but I find that I want to look beautiful for these men.

Despite that, I could be wearing a burlap sack and they’d still look at me as if I’m an ethereal goddess.

Taking another deep breath, I focus on his senses.

What does he hear?

What does he smell?

What does he feel?

Abel’s incessant chattering reaches me, followed immediately by Damien’s curt, “Shut the fuck up before I kill you.” I can hear Rion’s heartbeat as if it were my own, each consecutive pound rushing through me.

The familiar scents of mildew and mold assault my senses, though I shouldn’t expect anything else from the Labyrinth, especially in the fight ring where we’re currently residing. Damien was able to barter for vanilla-scented candles for our personal quarters, though, after I mentioned they were my favorite scent.

Finally, I’m aware of the soft material of Rion’s shirt caressing his broad chest and stomach. I’m also aware of a piercing pain in his lower region, almost as if all the blood has rushed to his…

Through his eyes, I watch my cheeks turn crimson once more at the realization that Rion is turned on.

Focus, Nina! I tell myself sternly as I dig deeper, drilling a hole into Rion’s essence and soul. Bright lights engulf my awareness as I’m swept away in the riptide that is Rion’s mind. Image after image bombard me, each one a depiction of me in some shape or form. The first time we made love. Our first kiss. Last night, when I slept in his bed and he held me to him.

His voice reaches me, seeming to come from the end of a tunnel. It caresses my mind, each lick as soft as a moth’s wing.

She’s so beautiful. So, so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? Fuck, I love her. I love her so damn much. Why is she blushing? She’s so adorable when she blushes. I want her to blush every second of every day. Maybe I’ll just paint her cheeks red. Is that weird? That’s weird. Don’t be weird, Rion, we talked about this. Normal is the new normal. Wait. I don’t think that’s how the saying goes. Maybe I should ask Abel? Nah. I’ll ask Damien. It always pisses him off when I ask stupid questions. Oh! If he kills me, can Nina kiss it better? Maybe I’ll let him cut off my cock just to get her lips down there…and you’re doing it again. Thinking crazy. Remember? Normal. N. O. R. M—Oh! Shiny! I love that ring on her finger. Our ring. She’s ours, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from us.

I pull myself into my own body with a gasp, my head spinning at the sheer amazement of what I just did. I heard Rion’s thoughts! A giddy laugh escapes my lips unbidden as I gleefully clap my hands together.

“I did it!” I whoop enthusiastically. In a span of seconds, I’m across the room and jumping into Rion’s arms. He releases a startled grunt as I tackle him to the ground, planting kisses on his cheeks and forehead. “I did it!” I repeat, pushing up onto my elbows above him. He tenderly brushes at a long strand of my black hair, placing it behind my ear.

“So you know,” he whispers, voice surprisingly somber.

“Know what?”

“Know how much I love you.”

My heart stutters once before flatlining as I behold the beautiful, kindred soul beneath me. From the very beginning, when I thought he was nothing but a cat named Mr. Scruffles, he managed to slay me with the expertise of a seasoned killer. I recognize a bit of myself in him—a bit of the loneliness that no longer clings to me like a second skin. We’ve not only found love but a family, one that I’m so incredibly grateful for. Piece by piece, these men have slowly mended the shattered shards the Compound left behind, making me feel whole.

“I love you too,” I say with a jovial smile. My smile is so big, my cheeks hurt, but when he pulls me into a hug, the impending dread consumes me and my smile fades.

Fear momentarily stills my lungs, making breathing impossible. From experience, every good thing is immediately followed by something horrendously bad. Life gives…but it also takes away.

And what exactly does fate plan to destroy this time around?