Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Glory

FIVE YEARS LATER

I brUSH MY palms over my thighs, wiping the soil from my hands onto my jeans as I look out from the vegetable garden where I kneel. I think I spy a fawn on the other side of the wooden fence Huxley built around the garden.

I push to my feet and walk between the rows of freshly sprouting tomatoes, carrots, and basil. We have a greenhouse for year-round self-sustenance, but Huxley knows how I love being outside in the sunshine during the spring and summer.

After the long, dreary winters here in the Pacific Northwest, it’s healing for me to be out of the cabin. Really, it’s healing for me to have my hands in the soil, to connect with the Earth and show my gratitude for the life she gives—for the happiness we’ve been blessed to find here.

Sugar Wood was stained by evil and ruined forever by my family. The Tollivers took from that forest, bleeding the trees of their maple, and profiting from it—and never giving back to it everything they took from it.

But here we’ve found precious, uninhabited land, tucked away in the depths of forest that stretch for miles along the West Coast. We came upon this spot seeking shelter, a place to hide away from the world as if we were dead walking, because that’s how we have to live—as if we’re dead.

We came upon this place with gratitude, mindful of the way human energy lingers and twists and influences the mind. Sugar Wood held all the negative energy of the monsters we buried there, but we won’t be monsters upon this perfect piece of the world we’ve found.

We’ve had to take some from nature in this stretch of woods, but we’ve given back to it in equal measure. Gardening keeps me grounded, reminds me where life comes from and where it ends. Planting new vegetables and flowers outdoors each season allows me to give life back to the Earth, something new for it to nurture and grow, and my soul has felt lighter since I began doing it.

I’m determined to keep as much good energy as possible in this perfect piece of the planet that we’ve found.

At the end of the row, I place my elbows atop the wooden fence, resting my chin on my forearms to peek over the top. The small fawn on the other side bows her head, sniffing along the fence. Her tan fur is speckled with white dots that remind me of snowfall.

Part of me dislikes that we’ve had to put up the fence to keep the critters out of the garden, but it’s become necessary as I seem to have attracted the lot of them to our cozy hideout in the forest. Deer, rabbits, birds, chipmunks—all manner of creature find me here, and it always puts a smile on my face.

I never cared much for animals or nature in my life before, but as the years pass, I’ve grown more and more fond of it, happier than I ever thought I could be in a life outside of privilege and wealth.

Everything that belongs to us, we built together. We had no money when we left Sugar Wood. It wasn’t worth the risk trying to pull funds from bank accounts when we needed the world to think we were dead. We had a truck and each other and nothing more.

But it was enough.

Peace is the most valuable thing to me now.

The fawn lifts her head and looks up at me, tilting her head to watch me as I watch her. “Are you looking for my tomatoes?” I ask. “Come back in a few weeks and I’ll have plenty for you.”

“I keep telling you, sugar, they’re never gonna talk back,” Huxley says with a grin.

I turn my head to watch him pass by, walking in the opposite direction. “It won’t stop me from trying,” I call after him.

He gives me a quick wink as he strolls on past, looking particularly rugged today. The scruff on his face is coarse as he grows it out and the flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves is a bit of a new look for him. It’s different, but it’s a look that works, and one that I like very, very much.

Being here has changed him, too, and in all good ways. Not that anything needed to change within him—Huxley was always perfect to me.

But something freed within him the night we killed his mother. It’s not something we talk about anymore, though we talked about it a lot back then. The first year was hard for us, but then…we found this place. We found this little piece of paradise nestled away in secret, and it was like the universe had aligned for us.

I step back from the fence and turn to face him as he strolls away, carrying a stack of logs across the clearing beside the modest cabin we built on our own. I watch as he approaches the stump near the shed where we store our chopped wood—a shed that we also built on our own.

Ambrose is in front of the stump, lifting his axe high above his head and driving it down with force, splitting a log with one perfect strike. He sets it down as Huxley lays the logs beside the stump, swiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. He smiles at Huxley when he stands back up, his teeth sparkling bright framed by his pillowy lips and thick black beard.

He lifts the bottom hem of his long-sleeved Henley to swipe over his face, revealing his sculpted torso beneath. I feel a shiver run down my spine and an ache springs from nowhere between my legs. It will never cease to amaze me the way that they know. We’ve found such perfect harmony, the three of us together here on this beautiful stretch of Earth, that they know intuitively when I have a need…any kind of need.

I wouldn’t have to lift a finger if I didn’t want to because they would happily do anything for me. I don’t understand how I got so lucky to have that kind of love from them, but I know I’ll never take it for granted. And because I know they would do anything for me, I let them do anything to me.

Sometimes they play together, sometimes I play with Huxley, sometimes I play with Ambrose. But the best times are when we all play together, and it’s been more than a week since we have.

I want them now and they know it.

Huxley’s head turns over his shoulder to look at me at the same time that Ambrose snaps his eyes to meet mine across the clearing. I take in a shuddering breath as a cool late-spring breeze whips around me, chilly as it skates across my bare arms, making my nipples harden beneath my T-shirt.

Ambrose’s face morphs into something serious—that sinful dark look he gets when he wants to do terrible and beautiful things to me.

I want him to do terrible and beautiful things to me.

His eyes are locked on mine from forty feet away as he steps toward Huxley, grabs his cheeks to turn his head toward him, and leans in to kiss him hard.

A soft moan escapes me, blowing across the yard, echoing silently all around us. Ambrose spins Huxley around and pushes his back against the shed, pinning him there with his body as he kisses him urgently, roughly, deliciously.

I stand still as I watch, need pulsing between my legs.

Ambrose breaks the kiss and looks back at me, though he keeps Huxley pinned in place with his hard body. My gaze falls on Huxley’s face to find his eyes closed in delightful shock, his lips parted, waiting for Ambrose to devour him.

But I’m feeling a little selfish, a little greedy. I want to be the center of their attention. We haven’t been truly wild together for a while, and I feel the need for it rustling through the trees. It’s an itch that demands to be scratched. Even the Earth insists that we let out our violence on each other in small doses—we use each other for all our needs, even the dark ones.

Especially the dark ones.

It keeps us balanced.

We unleash our primal urges safely on one another so we never have to unleash them on anyone else. We don’t let anyone else into our lives. It would disrupt our discordant harmony.

Ambrose’s eyes narrow on me predatorially and my breath catches in my lungs. He knows what I need and he’s going to deliver.

“Fuck,” I mutter breathlessly.

Before he can even think about making a move, I smile at him, turn, and run.

I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know he’s coming after me…to know they’re both coming after me. I dart past the tree line and sprint into the forest. My feet carry me quickly across the soft earth, my shoes crunching over branches as I leap over logs and dart between trees.

“Fly faster, little bird,” I hear Ambrose call from behind me, “I’m coming to catch and cage you.”

Desire sinks in my gut. I want them to catch me, but I won’t slow down.

It’s no fun if the chase isn’t real.

I feel them both running with me, as our one soul travels through the trees, forever connected, never letting me slip away from them entirely.

In the distance, I see the fawn from before, her head dipped and rooting around the forest floor.

A smile touches my cheeks to see her there, but it’s not just her. There’s another—no, there are three of them.

Three fawns together?

How extraordinary.

But where is the doe?

I run in their direction for no reason other than instinct drawing me near them. When their heads snap up all at once, ears perking to stand tall, and all of them looking in the same direction, I feel it in my bones.

Danger.

I cast a glance in the direction of their collective stare.

A mountain lion stands ahead of them, crouched and creeping toward them, preparing to pounce.

Where is their mother?

Why aren’t they running?

Without a second thought, I sprint straight for them, darting in front of them and slamming to a stop.

“Glory!” Ambrose shouts as I turn to face the cougar.

“Glory, get down!” Huxley shouts, and I hear the click as he cocks the handgun he always carries when we’re outside—for this very reason.

I hold up my palm in the direction of his voice, though my eyes remain fixed on the predator in front of me, creeping in low, sneaking up on these innocent fawns who didn’t know to look out for predators in their own home. Like Ambrose, Huxley, and I didn’t know to look out for the predators in our own homes.

Fierce protective energy tears through my gut and rips through my body, burning rage through my veins.

“Get down. I’ve got the shot,” Huxley insists, his voice a little closer now.

But I only shake my head as I widen my stance, plant my feet, and pull my shoulders back to stand tall and proud above the cougar before me. I spread my arms out to my sides, holding them protectively in front of the frozen fawn behind me.

I let the anger of my past—the rage against the predators who raised all of us and failed to protect our inner children—boil and bubble inside me. I let it rise in my chest and warm my voice. I let it wrap strength around my words, and in a deep, strong tone, I shout at the deadly creature in front of me, “Get back!”

I’ve finally found my voice, my strength, my power. I feel it pulse around me, like a protective force field.

And the mountain lion feels it, too.

She rises, her movement nearly imperceptible with how gradually she moves, but she rises, coming out of her aggressive stance.

“Hold steady,” I hear Ambrose say softly, closer than before. “You’ve got her, little bird.”

I feel him push into the force field and it strengthens me further. The front of his shoulder touches the back of mine, and more power ripples through me. I stare down the mountain lion as she slowly backs away, but I can see the movement of Huxley from the corner of my eye, circling around to her side, holding out his gun for a clear shot if he needs to take it.

But with them beside me, protecting me without stepping over me, giving me the space to take control while watching my back with all the fierceness of lions protecting their pride, I’m the most powerful woman in the world.

“Get back!” I shout again with confidence that spills down my insides and drips through my core.

The predator jumps up, turns, and runs away.

I let out a long-held breath and the power of what I just did—standing down a fucking mountain lion—sinks inside me. It’s a dense ball of fear that mixes with lust, creating a tornado of need that rips through my belly.

I expect Ambrose to touch me first, because he’s right there, pressed up behind me. But my attention is drawn to my side as Huxley puts the safety on, shoves the gun in the back of his waistband, and charges straight for me.

He reaches out for me as he shakes his head, his eyes wide with the same fear-lust combination that intoxicates me. “That was terrifying…and so fucking hot.” His hands slip beneath my jaw, grip my face, and hold me tight as his lips crush mine and he walks me backward.

My back slams into a tree behind me and the stupid, beautiful little group of fawn finally scatter, as if they sense more danger between the three of us than they did with the cougar.

They may be right.

Because I know this is going to be violent and dangerous sex.

It’s what I want.

Huxley kisses wetly and carelessly across my mouth, my cheek, and down to my neck. His hips shift forward, digging in against my body as his head dips so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck.

My eyes pop open when I sense Ambrose approach, and he comes in quickly. He grabs my wrist where it lays around Huxley’s neck and pulls me away from him sideways. I gasp as he tugs me harshly from the tree, my back scraping against the bark as I slide along it. He tugs me forward, wrapping his palm around the back of my head and holding me steady to kiss me violently. His tongue slices across mine. His teeth nip and bite.

Then Huxley comes in behind me, closing around me, wrapping me in heat as he presses his thickening bulge to my backside. I whimper into Ambrose’s mouth as Huxley kisses my neck, sucks and bites, and seeks more of me with aggression.

They break away from me to kiss each other, and my head falls back against Huxley’s shoulder. I look over at their licking, lapping mouths as I sink between them, my knees growing weak as desire drips through my core.

“Fuck me,” I breathe, begging them both.

They both grab for me, frantically working to undress me. Huxley peels my shirt off as Ambrose works my jeans. He tugs the zipper down, and then I feel Huxley’s arm close around my bare waist before he shoves his hand down my panties and roughly gropes for my pussy. I gasp and arch my back as his walking fingers step across my clit, pressing in roughly and rubbing in careless, painful circles.

“You like that?” he breathes against my ear. “You want us rough?”

“Yes,” I hiss. “Make me feel how desperately you want me.”

Ambrose paws my breasts, tugging the cups of my bra down to expose me. He bends and licks across my nipples, making my body rock with pleasure.

“I always want you desperately,” Huxley says. “Every fucking day.”

“Show me,” I whimper.

Ambrose twists my nipple between his fingers, as his other hand reaches up and combs back into my brown hair—I chopped off the dyed blonde a few years ago and I’ve been growing it out ever since. Ambrose likes it better this way, and Huxley doesn’t care about the color of my hair as long as I like it.

They just want the realest, truest version of me.

Ambrose slips his hand behind my head, lifting it from Huxley’s shoulder and dragging me away with him as he backs up. His fingers slip between the strands of my hair, and he twists his hand, wrapping my hair around his grip and jerking my head back. I yelp at the sharp sting.

“Take off your clothes, little bird.” He runs his tongue from the hollow of my throat all the way up to the point of my chin, making me shiver.

He releases me all at once and I whimper. Stepping back, I reach around behind me to unhook my bra and toss it aside. I stare him down as I kick off my shoes and push off my jeans and panties.

I stand proudly between them and their hungry gazes, knowing that they never see all the imperfections of my body that I so frequently name for myself. All they see is a woman they love endlessly, and in our moments like this, I’m able to see myself through their eyes—because their eyes are so insistent with adoration and devotion.

“Do you want to fight us?” Huxley asks from behind me, his voice heavy with lust.

The word slips out on a breath without conscious thought. “Yes.”

I used to be weak. I used to let bad things happen to me without fighting back, always waiting for Huxley to save me. So sometimes we play dark games—games that help me remember my strength and how much power I truly possess.

And I have so much power over them.

I like the way it builds inside me when we play this game. I like the way it makes me feel stronger. It lets me act out who I was before when I was so weak and defenseless and rewrite the narrative…They try to take control of me, they let me fight back, and they let me win.

Though sometimes I like to lose on purpose.

Ambrose’s eyes flash darkly at me, his hand dropping down to cover and squeeze the bulge in his jeans.

“Turn around,” Huxley commands, and with a deep breath, I slowly turn to face him.

He pulls the gun from his waistband and places it a safe distance away to avoid any accidents in the midst of passion. Then, he produces a small length of rope from his back pocket and my grin twists, watching him coil it around his hand. I’ll bet he grabbed it before chasing after me into the woods, hoping it would end this way…knowing that it would.

“On your knees,” he says.

I shake my head slowly, showing him without words that I won’t just comply.

“On your knees, little bird,” Ambrose repeats from behind me.

My eyes shift to the right, purposefully disclosing my next move, because I know what I want his to be. I lunge, starting to run, but I don’t try too hard this time. As soon as I lean, they’re both after me. Huxley’s arms coil around my waist and lift my naked body from the ground. He spins around as my legs kick and I try to jab him with my elbows. But Ambrose is right there in front of me, forcefully grabbing my wrists and tugging my arms in front of me.

He holds both of my wrists in one of his large hands while the other grasps and pulls at the end of the rope, still wrapped around Huxley’s hand. Huxley sets me down on my feet but doesn’t loosen his grip on me.

And this is where the fun begins.

I bend my knees, twist, dip, and pull myself sideways to get away from them as they fight to keep their hands on me.

“Hold her arms,” Ambrose says, and Huxley’s hands leave my waist to grip my elbows, squeezing my arms together in front of me, holding me steady.

Ambrose wraps some of the rope around my wrists, but he fails to secure me as I tug hard, jerking back both of my elbows and jamming them harshly into Huxley’s biceps.

His weight shifts back just a little and I take advantage of the sway, shoving my weight back against him and pushing until he stumbles. Ambrose lets go of me as Huxley’s foot catches and he trips, falling onto his back on the ground. I tumble with him, falling on top of him. His hands grip my waist as he lands and he flips me over, slamming me face-first into the dirt, smothering me with his warm, hard body.

I want to melt, sink into the soil, and become one with the earth. For a minute, I forget the game we’re playing, allowing Huxley enough time to reach between us, enough time to unbuckle and unzip and free his cock. I turn my head, letting my cheek press into the dirt as his fingers slide down my crack. He reaches down between my legs to find my pussy already wet for him.

“Fuck, Glory,” he mutters, shifting behind me.

I spread my knees for him, desperately wanting him to sink inside me. I let him align his tip and thrust his cock inside me with a full, aching thrust. I let it shatter us both for a few blissful seconds where we both gasp out strangled moans.

And then Ambrose grabs my hands, wrenching them out in front of me, trying again to wrap the rope around my wrists.

God, yes.

I remember the game again and how powerful the orgasm is when I fight back and win.

I squeeze my thighs together and buck my hips as Huxley pulls out, climbing my knees forward along the ground, trying to scramble out from beneath him. He grabs the back of my neck and shoves my face down into the dirt, coating my cheeks with soil—it makes me feel like I’m a part of the earth, one with nature, perfectly aligned with all the best and worst parts of myself as one complete person.

I’m bad and I’m good.

I’m darkness and I’m light.

I’m violent and I’m peaceful.

I belong to me, and I belong to them.

I fight through the pain to take my pleasure.

I thrash until I can pull my arms away from Ambrose, until I’ve bucked Huxley off my back. I turn fierce and furious as they try to take me back down—as the whole world once tried to take me down.

But as it always did, my violence takes hold of me, though not in the way it did in the past. With them, my aggression is wanted, something that brings them as much pleasure as the release of it brings me. And when we mix it all together with our reckless carnality, it sends shockwaves through the entire fucking universe.

My eyes catch hold of Ambrose, and he knows with a single look that I’m no longer their prey, that my power is taking hold of me and I’m going to take control. I see the flash as he tries to switch gears and figure out how to subdue me before I take over and win…but he takes too long.

In his moment of indecision, I act.

Scrambling to my knees, I shove Huxley onto his back, slamming him down on the dirt as I fight to climb on top of him. He pushes back at me as I get my knee over him, straddling his waist and settling my weight on him. Our hands grapple as he fights to grab my wrists and I fight to grab his, grunting and panting in our struggle.

He bucks up and my pussy aches for more of that, for more of him moving against me. But as much as that, my hands itch to shove and hit and grab and squeeze.

Ambrose shifts with me, turning with me to fight against Huxley. His eyes catch mine for a brief moment of heat that connects our energy as we both direct our sparring passion to Huxley. Ambrose takes hold of his wrists for me, pulling them back and slamming them to the ground above his head. My lips part as my eyes burn with passion, watching Ambrose wrap the rope around Huxley’s hands.

Huxley’s body twitches beneath me, bucking and rocking and trying to shake me off, but I’m not moving.

I’m taking.

I’m winning.

I scoot back, reach between us to wrap my palm around his erection, and line him up to meet me. Then I sit down hard on his cock, and the whole world stops spinning. The three of us groan at once, and then I start to move, rocking my hips back and forth, fucking Huxley.

“Take his cum,” Ambrose growls at me. “Take it, Glory. Fuck him.”

I don’t need the command, but fuck, his words sink inside me and pulse through my clit. I fuck him with quick hard thrusts, so wrought with tension that I know I’m going to explode hard and fast.

I lean back, reaching with my hand to rub my fingers over my clit. But Ambrose lifts Huxley’s bound hands, shoving them down, making him move his fingers to rest perfectly against my clit as I rub against them. I moan as Huxley curls his fingers to let me fuck his hard knuckles, as I see his bound hands tied up for me, knowing how he likes it, how he wants to be bound for me and let me take from him.

“Glory,” Huxley breathes. “Shit, Glory!”

I feel him swell; I feel how he’s right there on the edge of climax, but I’m not ready yet, and for fuck’s sake, I’m coming first. I slam my hips to a stop and look down at him. “Don’t you dare come yet.”

“Fuck, I need it,” he begs.

“How badly do you need it?” I ask.

“Make me come, Glory. Fuck, please.”

I want to give him everything.

I want to give him the whole goddamn world for the way he’s changed me…for the way he’s made me the best version of myself…for the way he’s made me happy.

I move my hips again, slowly at first, just for him. “I’ll let you come inside me, but then I want your tongue on my clit while Ambrose fucks me.”

His head bobs in a sort of nod and his fingers wiggle against my clit, making me moan. “Yes. Just make me come inside you.”

I roll my hips, gradually picking up my pace, rubbing and thrusting and fucking his cock as his fingers rub against my clit. Ambrose kneels at my side and his cock is out now, too. I reach to wrap my hand around it as he leans in to kiss me, not softly but roughly, battling my tongue with his.

Inexplicably, I feel it.

I didn’t think I was there yet, but suddenly, I feel it in the way Huxley’s cock swells within me—the way he lets me win, lets me take from him, makes me feel like a goddess above him.

“How fast can you come?” I ask against Ambrose’s lips.

“As fast as you want me to.”

“Oh,” I groan, my head rolling back on my shoulders as Huxley presses his fingers hard against my clit. “How do you do this to me?”

“How do you do this to us?” Ambrose asks before biting my bottom lip.

I snap my eyes open to look at him. “Get there. Get there right fucking now and come on his chest.”

“Shit,” he mutters, fisting his cock and stroking.

I press one hand down on Huxley’s wrist to hold him in place as I hold Ambrose’s cheek with the other, digging my fingertips into his flesh to hold his face close to mine.

My hips move faster, harder, driving us all to oblivion. We become one together on the forest floor, our moans and cries of desperation rolling together until we’re panting as one, gasping as one, chasing pleasure as one.

As my pussy squeezes around Huxley’s cock, the joy of our union overwhelms me, corrals the particles of my ashen heart inside my ribcage, and all at once, crushes them back together. It sends off a shockwave through my body. It forces every muscle to tense against the soul-deep climax. It flows out from my heart, travels through my body, bounces against my fingertips and the tips of my toes, and shoots back to my heart.

Huxley’s warmth spills inside me, filling me up, as Ambrose splashes across his chest, as we all let out a single, unified sigh of pure relief and complete satisfaction.

I collapse onto Huxley’s painted chest, unconcerned about the mess as he rolls me onto my side. Ambrose cradles his body around mine from behind, reaching around to pull the ropes free from Huxley’s hands.

We lay there together in the soil and twigs that cover the ground beneath. I feel as though I could happily sink into the earth with these two.

“I want to be buried here with you when we die,” I say without thinking.

Huxley chuckles, stroking the side of my head. “Is that what you’re thinking about right now? When we die?”

I blink up at him as Ambrose runs his hand down my side, propping up onto his elbow to lean over and kiss my neck.

“I’m not thinking about dying. I’m just saying…When it happens—someday—I want to be right here between you, even in death. I want our bodies to go back to the earth. The three of us together, forever.”

“Your mind is a morbid and beautiful place,” Ambrose whispers against my ear before leaning across me to kiss Huxley.

His fingers trace lines down my hip and slip across my thigh. I feel myself already growing in need again and press my eyes shut to enjoy the feeling of being nestled between them.

“I love you. Both of you. I just wish we could leave our harmony behind in this place when we’re gone. Give our peace back to the earth and let it flourish in this forest.”

Huxley kisses my forehead. “Is that what you want?”

I open my eyes to catch his dark gaze on mine. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll make sure you have it,” Ambrose says, running his hand over the curls leading to my sex.

“How?”

“Whoever dies last…” Huxley starts, peeking over me to look at Ambrose, and they take turns speaking as if they could read each other’s thoughts…and I wouldn’t be surprised if they could.

“Whoever dies last, buries the other two,” Ambrose adds.

“Then ends their life in the grave,” Huxley says quietly, his eyes narrowed intently on Ambrose.

“And we make sure Glory—”

“Glory can’t be the last.”

I turn my head so my eyes can glance back and forth between them, watching them make an unspoken promise that painfully and perfectly twists in my stomach.

“You mean that?” I ask them. “You would do that for me?”

They both shift their eyes to look at me, and I feel the power of their bond, their commitment to making me happy…even in death.

“I promise,” Huxley says.

Then Ambrose follows, “I promise.”

A true smile spreads brightly across my cheeks, knowing that neither would ever break a promise to me. I feel comfort in this morbid oath, knowing that a promise like this is more eternally binding than marriage, than any Earthly ritual one could make up.

“Then seal it with a kiss?” I ask.

They look at each other, then they look at me. And as their mouths descend on mine, I feel the weight of the universe press down on us, wrapping around us like a celestial embrace that recognizes that we belong here, together forever. We belong to each other in life, in death, and forever beyond. We’ve found our perfect balance together.

All the wrongs of our past have been righted.

All our pain is gone.

No more suffering.

No more abuse.

No more trauma.

No more.

All that remains for us is pleasure, peace, and the dark vow that binds us for eternity.