Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

MIRELLA

I kept my eyes open as Rane rested his forehead against mine. Maybe he was fine showing his vulnerability, but I wasn’t about to do the same.

When he pulled away, Ginhad was gone. I was alone with Andrin and Rane, but everything was different now, wasn’t it? Or maybe not. I was still their prisoner.

And my side burned from absorbing Andrin’s injury. Other discomforts joined the pinching, nagging pain. My feet ached, I hadn’t eaten in hours, and sweat clung to me like a second skin, leaving my scalp itching.

“I want a bath,” I blurted.

Both men’s eyes dropped to my chest.

“Alone,” I clarified, my face heating as Rane’s words from earlier rushed back: “I have a particular fondness for redheads. Andrin likes them, too.”

I clenched my jaw, the fire in my cheeks climbing a few degrees higher. “Actually, I’ll just return to my cage.”

Andrin’s scowl was immediate. “You’re not going back in the cage.”

Surprise jolted me. Then understanding dawned. Something was different. Me. Whatever this werek gift was, they believed it could be useful.

“You’re upgrading my sleeping arrangement?” I asked, glancing around. “What now, a mat on the floor?”

Andrin drew a long breath, and I got the sense he was marshaling patience. “I’d like to show you something,” he said at last. “Then you can have your bath.” He walked to a large armoire. “Alone,” he added over his shoulder.

He untied the sheet around his waist and let it drop, revealing long legs and a round, muscular backside. I averted my eyes, my gaze landing on Rane. He watched me intently, his sigils gleaming in the low light.

My skin tingled, memories of the thrusting, licking shadow quickening my pulse.

Andrin circled the bed barefoot, a pair of trousers slung low on his hips. His braid swung forward as he leaned over the lamp on the bedside table. He dimmed the flame, then came to me and drew me to the center of the room.

“Before we lost the Kree,” he said, “the Edelfen was a place of life and renewal.” He swept his arm in a wide arc.

The room around us shifted. Towering trees with red and gold leaves replaced the bedchamber walls. Instead of a beamed ceiling, a canopy of blue sky stretched overhead, sunlight filtering through the branches to cast playful shadows over the forest floor. Birds chirped as they darted from branch to branch.

“This is what the Edelfen used to be,” Andrin said softly.

Rane stepped closer, his eyes roaming the towering trees. A faint breeze stirred the leaves, casting dappled light across his face.

“There,” he murmured, pointing.

I followed his gaze. A tree stood apart from the others, its oversized leaves glinting with a familiarity that made me catch my breath.

“It’s the Edeloak.”

“ An edeloak,” Andrin corrected. “The great tree in the King’s Grove had thousands of offspring. They spread across Autumn, recording the passage of time and preserving the memories and history of our people. Our priests tended them. Every life, however important or seemingly insignificant, was woven into the forest’s record.”

A vivid image of the Edeloak’s family tree formed in my mind, the faces of countless elves shining from its branches.

Andrin’s gaze settled on me. “The edeloaks were a living network, their roots intertwined with the kingdom. When Walto tore out the Kree, the forest couldn’t survive. You’re a healer. You know what happens when a heart stops beating.”

The vibrant leaves around us dulled as shadows crept across the ground. The trunk of the edeloak blackened, rot spreading from branch to branch.

“The edeloaks died swiftly,” Andrin said. “As the rot spread, I went to the King’s Grove and did the only thing I could think of.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What did you do?”

“I bonded with the Edeloak, lending it my heart to keep it alive.”

“It was a doomed plan from the start,” Rane said, stepping into view.

Andrin shot him a sharp look—the kind that hinted at an old argument. “I didn’t have a choice. The edeloaks were dying. The shadows were closing in. I bought us time.”

Rane clenched his fists, tension radiating from him. “Time that’s running out. The Edeloak is killing you.”

Andrin’s jaw tightened. “I’m managing.”

“You’re not,” Rane snapped. “The rot is spreading, and it’s taking you with it. That injury tonight would’ve been nothing a month ago. You’re dying, Andrin. Piece by piece.”

Andrin looked away.

“You’re dying?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He met my eyes. “The Edeloak and I are bound. As it fades, so do I.”

The sunlight disappeared entirely, and the forest plunged into shadow. Leaves withered and fell, and trunks twisted into grotesque shapes. A high-pitched wail pierced the air.

It’s an illusion , I reminded myself, but the chill creeping up my neck made it hard to believe.

Shadows gathered at the edge of the forest, dark tendrils snaking forward like spider legs. Panic seized me, and I stumbled backward into Rane.

The illusion vanished. The bedchamber returned, moonlight slanting over the bloodied bed.

Andrin’s expression was grim. “The shadows feed on despair and pain. And they are insatiable. They’ve consumed most of Autumn. Once the Embervale falls, they’ll spread across Ishulum, swallowing each kingdom and everyone within it. Andulum will be next, starting with Eftar.”

“Eftar?” I couldn’t believe it. The Covenant stopped magic from intruding into the human world. But as I drew breath to say as much, Aedith’s face appeared in my mind, her eyes anxious as she spoke of her missing brother. He strayed too close to the shadows.

Andrin must have seen something in my face because he gave a grim nod. “We have to find the Kree.”

Frustration gripped me. “I told you the truth. I don’t know where it is.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rane said. “Walto has it. He couldn’t have survived this long without it. Get me into Purecliff, and I’ll search until I find it.”

“You’ll lose your magic if you cross the Covenant,” I said.

“Not if you bond with me.”

His words hit me like a slap. “A shadowbond would make me your slave.”

“I don’t want a slave,” Rane said firmly. “I want to save my people. But I can’t risk entering the human lands without my magic. Walto will be expecting me. Magic can’t cross the Covenant without a living anchor in Andulum. You don’t have to bond with me permanently. You could be shadow-touched—connected but not fully bound. If you join with me, even temporarily, you can bridge the boundary.”

“And you can cross it,” I said, bitterness climbing into my throat. Or maybe that was just the weight of the collar around my neck. “Once again, you’d use me. Do I get a choice this time?”

“Yes,” Andrin said. His tone was low and urgent, his eyes fixed on mine. “I won’t force you to do this. But the fate of both our realms depends on finding the Kree. We need your help, Mirella. Not as a prisoner, but as a partner. If I could do this myself, I would. But my bond with the Edeloak keeps me tied to Autumn. If I leave, the tree dies. And if it dies, so does our kingdom.”

I let the silence stretch as I measured their words against the rising knot of mistrust in my chest.

“You could have asked for my help from the beginning,” I said finally.

Rane’s jaw tightened. “You are Walto’s daughter. We had no way of knowing if we could trust you.”

“You did,” I said evenly. “I told you. You just didn’t listen.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Andrin broke the silence. “You’re right. We should have. We’re listening now.”

A decision stretched before me. If I didn’t help them, people would die. But what if this was just another game? “You want me to trust you? Fine. You can start by trusting me. Take off the collar.”

Their gazes met, a silent exchange passing between them. Finally, Andrin stepped forward. His fingers brushed my chin as he reached for the metal band. A soft click sounded, and the collar came free.

I rubbed my neck. With the weight gone, my head felt curiously light—as if it might float away.

“It’s important that you don’t try to leave through the shadows,” Andrin said.

He meant escape. But his worries were unfounded. “You’ve seen firsthand how my father feels about me. If I run to Purecliff, he’ll wed me to Lord Vilgot or some other elfkin noble. I have nowhere to go.”

He inclined his head. And then silence descended. Once again, options confronted me, the weight of decision replacing the burden of the collar.

A shadow tumbled across the carpet, drawing my gaze to the window. Leaves drifted past the glass. Outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

“I’m too tired to make any decisions tonight,” I said, turning back to the men. “I need a bath and some sleep.”

Without waiting for a response, I moved past them and into the bathing chamber. I was slow to undress, expecting them to enter at any moment. When they didn’t, I bathed quickly, reveling in the simple pleasure of being clean. When I finished, I pulled a nightgown from the stack Ginhad had stashed in a cabinet. Then, drawing a deep breath, I reentered the bedchamber.

The lamp burned low on the bedside table, casting a soft glow that warred with the first rays of dawn streaming through the windows. One of the couches from the main chamber now sat near the bed.

“You’ll sleep there,” Andrin said, appearing from the shadows near the door. “And tomorrow, we’ll begin again.”

Rane entered behind him and disappeared into the bathing chamber. They shared a bed—and now I’d sleep beside them.

“No one will touch you, Mirella,” Andrin said in a low voice. “Not unless you want it.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want it.”

Andrin’s gaze was steady as an odd tension stretched between us. Then he went to the lamp and snuffed the flame. As if he meant to prove his words, he climbed into bed and settled against the pillows with his back to me.

Exhaustion won out over wariness, and I slid beneath the blankets someone—Andrin, perhaps—had arranged over the couch. The room was still, the pink rays of dawn stretching through the window. Leaves continued their gentle descent. I rolled to my side, one arm under my head, and watched them fall. Unlike the cage, the couch didn’t creak or shift beneath me. It was solid, steady.

My eyelids drooped. Soft footsteps sounded, and fabric rustled behind me. Rane had finished bathing and now climbed into bed with Andrin.

No one will touch you, Mirella. Not unless you want it.

Did Andrin want it? And why did I care?

Sleep pulled me under before I could think of an answer.

The morning brought no answers, but neither Andrin nor Rane pressured me to decide. Instead, they seemed determined to let me choose my course free of their influence.

That didn’t mean they left me alone, though. Over the next few days, a fragile rhythm formed between us.

The men rose early, poring over maps in the main chamber and charting where Vivia and the Shadow Eaters would patrol that day. Rane persuaded Andrin to stay away from the forest, arguing that everything hinged on Andrin remaining healthy and safe. Andrin grumbled but relented, his duties pulling him to the tower where he monitored the encroaching darkness.

That left me with Rane, who proved a surprisingly accommodating companion. He knew all the secret ins and outs of the castle, and he seemed content to trail me as I explored. After a few stilted exchanges, he began chiming in with little facts and curiosities about the Embervale’s history. The castle was as old as Ishulum, its rooms overflowing with paintings, statues, and furniture.

The cage vanished, though not the watchful eyes. Ginhad flitted in and out, delivering gowns and irreverent gossip. Andrin and Rane took turns shadowing me, their presence as constant as the leaves drifting past the windows. At night, we dined in the Great Hall, where I sat on the dais in a chair of my own and tried to ignore the heat pooling low in my body as the Embervale’s residents entertained themselves in increasingly lurid ways.

But the heat remained when I slept on the couch with Andrin and Rane in the bed beside me. The men didn’t touch each other. And, just as Andrin promised, they didn’t touch me.

On the third morning, I found myself alone with Rane after Ginhad delivered breakfast wearing a cravat, a pair of scandalously tight knee breeches, and several whip marks. Grimacing, he’d set the tray of food down, turned a sickly shade of pastel green, and fled the chamber.

“You didn’t eat your toast,” Rane said suddenly.

I looked up from a book about a war between the Spring and Summer Courts. “I’m full.”

He studied the toast. “You ate around the edges.”

We stared at each other. “It was a little darker than I like,” I said after a minute.

Rane settled back in his chair. “You’re really picky about toast.”

“I’m not picky.”

“Sure.” He gestured toward my book. “That’s the third one you’ve read about the Spring Court.”

I stiffened. Was he cataloging my reading habits now?

“It’s an odd place,” he said. “Very devoted to the gods. And overrun with Scarrok.”

“Scarrok?”

He nodded. “Water monsters. Nasty creatures. We have some illustrations in the library. I can show you if you want.” He huffed, then muttered, “Because I do know where the library is.”

Books were rare treasures in Eftar. The library at Purecliff held fewer than fifty. They were expensive to make, requiring hours of time and labor. But the elves had all the time in the world. The Embervale’s library was probably a place of wonder.

“Yes,” I said. “I’d love to see it.”

As he’d done for my other explorations, Rane led me to the library, opened the doors, and gave me free rein to wander the stacks. As I’d expected, the library was vast, with two levels of soaring bookshelves and ladders attached to little wheels that let me happily roll my way from one section to another. Hours passed as I thumbed through books written centuries before I was born. When hunger stirred, I wandered around the end of a tall bookcase to find a sandwich and a glass of water waiting on a table. And when I lumbered toward the entrance with a wobbling stack of books, Rane sprang from a chair near the doors and took them from me.

“We’ll bring a bag next time,” he said, stuffing a couple of books down the front of his jacket.

The next morning, I woke to find him fully dressed and seated near the balcony. The bed was empty, its blankets perfectly arranged. I was probably never going to get used to how quietly the elves moved when they wanted to. And now I knew they sometimes allowed me to hear them.

“Clothes are there,” Rane said, nodding toward a gown draped across the foot of the couch.

“Where’s Andrin?” I asked, clutching the blanket to my chest as I sat up.

“Council meeting.”

“Aren’t you part of the Council?”

He eyed me like he was trying to decide how to respond.

I sighed. “I know you and Andrin don’t want to leave me alone. You say you trust me, but you’re making that difficult to believe.”

Rane shook his head. “It’s not that. You’re elfkin. You’ve been running the shadows your whole life. But things are different here. The Edelfen is too close for comfort. If you stumbled into the wrong shadow, you could get pulled into the forest’s center.” He swallowed. “It’s hard to appreciate the danger until you see it.”

I thought of the time I’d spent in the Edelfen. That had been bad enough. He made it sound magnitudes worse. “What’s it like in the center?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he’d brush me off as he might have when we first met. Then he stood and extended a hand. “I’ll show you.”

My heart sped up.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We won’t enter. As long as you hold onto me, you won’t get lost.”

Doubts nibbled at me, along with Andrin’s warnings about the Edelfen’s nature. It preyed upon a person’s worst fears, spitting nightmares and worries. But this was my chance to find out if I was trapped in Autumn—if the shadows were truly as dangerous as he and Rane claimed. I stood, my nightgown dropping to my ankles. Drawing a deep breath, I crossed to Rane and slipped my hand into his.

A tunnel of blackness opened, its slick walls twisting like oil. The air howled, and shadows clawed at the edges of my vision. Something screamed—piercing and wild—and a dark mass lunged at me.

Rane tightened his grip, tugging me backward. The tunnel collapsed, and the bedchamber returned to normal. My knees buckled, but Rane steadied me.

“Aren’t you afraid it’ll show you what you fear?” I asked as I caught my breath.

“No,” he said quietly. “I come from the shadows. They don’t want to scare me. They want me back.”

Goosebumps lifted on my arms as he went to the door.

“Get dressed,” he said. “Ginhad hasn’t shown up, which means he’s either passed out or still drinking.”

When I entered the main chamber, Rane announced we’d eat breakfast in the Great Hall. The Embervale was quiet as usual, with everyone sleeping off the previous evening’s excesses. When we entered the hall, the stench of sweat and stale alcohol wrinkled my nose.

“Sit,” Rane said, pointing to a reasonably clean table near the hearth.

I picked my way over puddles of wine and pulled out a chair. “You could have showed me the shadows the first day. Then you and Andrin wouldn’t have to babysit me.”

His amethyst eyes were unreadable. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to risk when they think they have no other choice.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, the clatter of metal and several muffled curses drifted into the Great Hall. When a few more crashes and muttered oaths emerged, I stood and went to investigate.

Rane crouched in front of the kitchen’s massive hearth, wielding a long metal fork over glowing embers. Slices of bread were neatly arranged on a table behind him, each one browned to various degrees.

I sucked in a breath as I realized what he was doing.

He spun, a defensive expression on his face. “I told you to wait in the hall.”

“You sounded like you needed help.” I looked at the table. “Is this breakfast?”

A flush crept up his neck. “It’s an experiment. I want to know what kind of toast you’ll actually eat.”

I smiled, something loosening in my chest. “I think you used all the toast in Ishulum. I’m bound to like one of them.”

We ate in the Great Hall, several pots of jelly and a knife between us.

“This one is good,” I said, biting into a lightly browned slice.

He shook his head as he slathered red jam over several pieces of toast and stacked them. “Too light. That’s basically just bread.”

“No one is asking you to eat it.”

He grunted, used a plain slice to mash his tower, then lifted the makeshift sandwich and bit into it.

“That’s…” I pressed my lips together before I could say “gross.”

“Efficient,” he said, chewing.

We spent the next few minutes sampling jams and arguing about breakfast foods. Leaves drifted from the ceiling, several brushing our plates before they disappeared.

“They’re pretty,” I said, letting one touch my finger. “Better than snowflakes.”

He sipped from one of the water goblets we’d brought from the kitchen. “You don’t like the cold?”

Memories of the long, bitter months in Nordlinga returned. “Not when it’s unrelenting.”

“Is that why you didn’t wed Sigurn Brighthelm?”

I looked at him. “You know about that?”

“The shadows carry whispers,” he said, his tone neutral. “Most people don’t listen to them, which is a foolish oversight. They’re deceitful, yes, but sometimes they’re useful.”

“Like when you want to kidnap Walto Lornlark’s daughter.”

A little smile played around his mouth. “Exactly like that. But no one who knows you would ever think of you as just Walto Lornlark’s daughter.”

Our gazes held, something shimmering in the air between us. Looking down, I pressed my finger to the table, gathering toast crumbs and depositing them on my plate.

Rane cleared his throat. “What did you do in Nordlinga when you weren’t marrying Sigurn Brighthelm?”

“I looked after his father, who was ailing. But I preferred tending the horses.” I grimaced. “That probably sounds horrible. It’s just that most of the time, animals are better patients than humans. Probably elves, too.”

He smiled. “Probably.”

Eventually, we carried our plates to the kitchen.

“Would you like to visit Thraxos?” Rane asked as we reentered the hall.

I stopped, my heart beating faster. “Could we? Would Vivia mind?”

“You saved his life. Vivia will probably scatter rose petals at your feet wherever you go.”

We made our way to the stable, where Thraxos munched on a bag of oats. He snorted as we approached his stall, and he whinnied softly as he nudged my shoulder.

“Hello, handsome,” I said. Smiling, I scratched around his ears.

“You should try to were into him,” Rane said.

I froze. “You mean…?”

“Try to see through his eyes.” He leaned against the stall door, his eyes like violets in the morning sunlight. “If I had a gift, I would try to hone it.”

Confusion filled me. “You have a gift,” I insisted. “You eat shadow.”

“I’m a vessel, nothing more. You’re good with numbers. Think of my magic like a negative. It creates nothing, only takes it away. Shadow Eaters serve the light.” He nodded toward Thraxos. “Start the way you always have. Act like you’re healing him.”

Swallowing my nerves, I placed my hand on Thraxos’s flank. The familiar warmth of light built beneath my palm, spreading into my chest. I closed my eyes and reached for him, seeking connection.

For a moment, I glimpsed the green, rolling meadow beyond the Embervale. Then blackness consumed it, disorienting me. I blinked, swinging my head from side to side. Panic built and then subsided.

I was wearing Thraxos’s blindfold.

Suddenly, something struck me hard, and I stumbled. Light flashed as the blindfold was torn away. Shadows rushed toward me. Jaws gaped, rows of teeth flashing white in the gloom.

A lynx leaped between me and the shadow, absorbing the hit meant for me. Claws flashed. Blood splattered the ground.

Vivia.

She wrestled the shadow, growls spilling from her as she tumbled over and over. The shadow reared, its jaws impossibly wide. It ripped into her neck, and her growls became an agonized scream.

I rushed toward her, reaching with hands I no longer possessed.

Something jolted me, and I lurched sideways, fumbling in sudden darkness. I was blinded again, a shroud over my eyes. My hand landed on something warm and solid. Before I could figure out why my hands were working in Thraxos’s body, my vision cleared again.

Now, I stood at the base of broad, white steps scattered with red and gold leaves. Andrin rose from a golden throne and stared down at me.

No, not Andrin. The man had Andrin’s face, but his hair was several shades darker.

“You had one task,” he thundered. “Keep my son safe. I should flay the skin from your back.”

The ground reared up as I bowed my head. “I am sorry, sire.”

Boots appeared at the edge of my vision as the man descended the steps. My stomach twisted as he moved around me.

“I tire of your apologies, slave.”

Something whistled in the air. My back caught fire.

“Mirella!”

The memory shattered. I gasped, my eyes flying open. Rane gripped my upper arms, his eyes wide and his dark hair streaming around a face gone pale.

“That man…” I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.

Rane dropped his hands, emotion flickering in his eyes. “Larinor,” he said quietly. “Andrin’s father.”

I suddenly recognized the flickering emotion for what it was. Shame. Rane knew what I’d seen. Because he’d lived it.

“He called you a slave,” I said.

Rane’s shoulders stiffened. “I was. Shadow Eaters were enslaved for centuries.” He lifted a hand, and a shadowy chain wove its way around his wrist, threading among the vines and flowers. “I was gifted to Andrin when we were both young men. I took an oath to protect him, to temper his light so he didn’t overextend himself. We grew close, and…” Rane drew a deep breath. “We fell in love. Andrin freed me when his father died. He freed Vivia and the others, too, giving them titles and honor. I haven’t been a slave for a long time, but…” He shrugged. “The memories remain.”

My chest ached. “But you’re so important for the Embervale. For Autumn.”

He stilled, and for a second he seemed speechless, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Most people don’t feel that way. At least, they didn’t before the shadows took over the Edelfen. Shadow Eaters used to be common. There were so many of us in the old days…” He laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “The priests used to complain about the cost of feeding us. We don’t make anything. We just pick up the garbage. When you pick up garbage all the time, you become garbage.”

My throat burned. I cupped his cheek. “Rane Laruthian, you are not garbage. You absorb the shadows so the light can shine.”

His nostrils flared. He reached up and covered my hand, holding it to his cheek. Then he dragged it down and held it between us, his forehead furrowing as he studied my knuckles. “I know you hate me for what happened at the Covenant. But I’d never see you chained. Marriage to someone you don’t want is just another kind of slavery.” He lifted his head, his eyes raw and unguarded. “And I won’t be part of that, Mirella.”

I drew a trembling breath. “You could have gone about it in a better way.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Yes,” he said softly. “I could have.”

“Do you regret it?” I asked, my voice breathless in my ears.

He lifted his eyes. “I regret not tasting you.”

The scent of pine and cloves washed over me. My heart pounded so loudly that I wondered if he could hear it.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” I said, drifting closer.

“Of course not,” he murmured. Then he lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss started gentle, almost tentative. He brushed his lips over mine as if seeking permission. When I didn’t pull away, he traced his tongue along the seam of my lips. And when I opened, he groaned and stroked his tongue into my mouth.

Pleasure crackled through my veins. His hands slid around my waist, tugging me against him as he deepened the kiss. The scent of cloves grew thicker. His hair brushed my neck, and I reached up, seeking and finding it. Silky strands slipped through my fingers as he splayed a hand over the small of my back.

Heat sank through my clothes. His heat. He’d touched me before, but never like this. Never with flesh meeting flesh, his body crowding mine and his tongue licking into my mouth.

Another groan left him, vibrating my lips. He slid his hand down and squeezed my ass, dragging me onto my toes. My pussy ground against his hard, rigid length, the feel of him shocking…and addicting.

He sucked at my tongue, then nipped and stroked, plundering my mouth as he kneaded my ass. Heat spread through me like warm honey. Dimly, I realized I rocked my hips against his, my body moving on its own.

Rane wrenched his mouth from mine. Then he gripped me around the waist and yanked me off my feet. He hooked his arms under my thighs and marched me across the stable, thumping me down on a small stack of hay bales.

“Five seconds,” he rasped, stepping back and pinning me with a fierce look. “You’ve got five seconds to leave, and I won’t touch you. But if you stay, sweetheart, I’m going to eat that pussy I’ve been dreaming about. I don’t want there to be any confusion between us. No misunderstandings. Stay, and I’m going to flip your skirts up, spread your thighs, and lick you until you scream. And you will, Mirella. You’ll scream yourself hoarse, saying my name and begging for more. And no kiss will ever compare to the one I’m about to give you between your legs.”

My heart knocked against my ribs. Moisture flooded my sex, the memory of his shadows making my inner muscles clench.

“Five,” he said, his chest heaving. The bulge between his legs sent my pulse skittering higher. If I’d had any doubts he liked women, they were firmly settled now.

The scent of hay and my arousal lifted around me, spinning me back to the stable when I’d watched Andrin fuck him. A whimper escaped me.

“Four.”

Could I do this? Should I do this? I had a choice to make. I’d gone from having no options to being confronted by difficult decisions.

“Three.”

But this one didn’t seem so hard. My fingers curled into fists as his dare swirled between us. I glanced at the open door behind him. I could leave. He wouldn’t touch me if I got up and walked away.

“Two.”

What would it be like to have his mouth on me? Not a shadow he controlled, but him , his mouth branding me in the most intimate way possible? My thighs clenched, desire scorching me.

“One last chance, Mirella,” he whispered.

I didn’t move.

He was on his knees in a blur of black hair and purple eyes. Rough hands tossed my skirts to my waist and shoved my legs apart. I fell backward, my shoulders striking the wooden stall door behind me as he found the slit in my drawers and ripped it wide, the sound of shredding fabric shocking in the quiet stable.

I gasped, waiting for him to plunge his face to my center. Instead, he held my stare, his amethyst eyes glittering. With agonizing slowness, he smoothed his hands up my bare thighs, his sigils black against my paler skin.

My breath trembled. I buried my fingers in the hay beneath, clinging to the bale. Cool air caressed my clit, which felt so swollen and hot that part of me wanted to slam my legs shut.

But he held them open, his fingers sliding higher. He slicked his thumbs up either side of my pussy and spread me even wider, baring all my secrets to his gaze.

“Fuck,” he whispered, sounding pained. Wait, was something wrong? I squirmed on the bale, thinking to escape, when he lifted his eyes and said, “You’re so fucking beautiful here. All pink and creamy for me. And these pretty red curls…” He spread me wider, and the air stroked inside me. A growl rumbled his throat.

“Fuck,” he repeated, then licked a hot path from my opening to my clit.

And any sign of restraint disappeared.

He thrust his nose and mouth into my pussy, his growls vibrating my sensitive flesh as he licked and stroked his way from my entrance to my throbbing clit. Shivers coursed through me. My body moved on its own, my hips lifting as pleasure pummeled me in blistering hot waves.

“Rane,” I panted, shoving my fingers into his hair.

“Louder,” he ordered between swipes of his tongue.

“Wh-What?” I gasped, writhing on the bale.

He hooked me under the knee and shoved one of my legs higher. Pulling back enough to meet my eyes, he licked my arousal from his lips.

“I promised you’d scream my name, love. So let’s hear it.” He leaned in and sucked my clit hard, fluttering his tongue over the aching point.

Pleasure wrenched a squeal from my throat as I bucked against his mouth. My release barreled toward me, a wave cresting so high I wasn’t certain I’d survive it.

A noise drew my head up.

Andrin stood in the stable’s doorway, his blue eyes locked on Rane’s head between my legs.

Panic sheared through me. “Rane!” I gasped, shoving at his head. “Rane, stop.”

“He’s been there a while,” Rane said against my pussy. He thrust a finger inside me, then closed his teeth over my clit.

The wave crashed over me, a scream tearing from my throat as I arched off the bale. Rane took me through the orgasm, sucking and biting at my clit as he pushed his finger deeper and stroked a spot that yanked my scream higher.

Andrin watched all of it, his hands going to the fastening of his trousers. As I fluttered down from the peak, he pulled his cock out and took his rigid, veined shaft in hand.

“Give her another,” he said.

Rane drew back, his mouth and chin shiny with my arousal. He pulled his finger from my pussy. Then he angled his body, and I realized he was showing me off to Andrin as he drew a featherlight fingertip down one lip and then the other.

Aftershocks rippled through me, my breathing ragged and sweat prickling under my arms and at my hairline. I’d never been more exposed, everything between my legs hot and aching—and bared for two sets of glowing eyes.

Rane dragged my ruined drawers down my thighs and then ripped them away. Tossing the fabric aside, he pushed my knees to my chest and buried his face in my pussy again.

“Gods,” I whimpered, my pulse spiking as I looked at Andrin. He stroked himself, his blue eyes tracking Rane’s every move. Moisture welled from his cockhead and dripped onto the stable floor. The fleshy sound of his fist shuttling up and down his erection warred with my gasping breaths and the wet smack of Rane’s kisses between my legs.

Another orgasm gathered. My hips moved urgently, my body moving without my permission. I clawed at Rane’s hair, clinging to him as the storm bore down on me again. I reached for it, eager for another?—

“Stop,” Andrin said.

Rane pulled back at once.

Desire ebbed, cool air hitting my sodden entrance.

“What?” I cried hoarsely, struggling to sit up. “Why did you?—?”

“Again,” Andrin ordered.

Rane returned to my pussy, his tongue mercilessly lashing my clit.

Andrin’s eyes glittered like sapphires as he masturbated faster.

My heart raced as if it tried to keep up with him. My pussy throbbed, every slick swipe of Rane’s tongue shoving me closer to release. He stiffened the tip and pumped it inside me, fucking me with it.

“Oh!” My muscles tightened, every part of my body straining toward the orgasm I now needed more than anything.

“Stop,” Andrin grated.

Rane yanked his mouth away.

“No!” I screamed, slamming my fist on the bale. My breath came in great, heaving sobs. Glaring at Andrin, I grabbed a handful of Rane’s hair and jerked his head down. “Finish what you started,” I growled, unsure which man I addressed.

Andrin’s eyes gleamed as his hand blurred on his cock. Rane sucked down my pussy…and kept going, swirling his tongue around a place I’d never expected anyone to venture.

A new kind of pleasure coursed through me, the slippery sensations wicked and forbidden. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” I chanted, twisting my fingers in Rane’s hair.

Andrin’s lips parted, a masculine whimper breaking from him. “Fuck,” he grunted. With a hoarse cry, he spurted onto the ground, creamy ropes striping the hay-scattered stone.

Rane fingers found my clit. Two tight, hard circles, and I shattered, my body arching so hard I thought my spine my snap. My release roared through me, tingles spreading from my toes to my head and back again. My head went back, my mouth opening on a long, keening wail as I lost myself among the waves.

When they finally subsided, I collapsed forward, my heart still thumping wildly. I sprawled on the bale, my thighs splayed and my skirts around my hips.

Both men watched me, heat flickering in their eyes. Reality crashed back. We’d crossed a line. No, we’d sprinted over it. I wasn’t at all certain what that meant. My only certainty was that everything between us had just gotten more complicated.

“Oh, Mirella,” Rane murmured, drawing my gaze. “I bet you feel as good as you taste.” Eyes glittering, he leaned toward me.

I stopped him with a foot on his shoulder. “Careful, my lord,” I said softly. “You’ll make me like you.”

His eyes widened. Rising, I stepped around him and shook out my skirts. Then I strode past Andrin and through the doorway, the men’s eyes following me as I left the stable behind.