22. Alina

Orcus's explanationsstay with me over the next few days, his voice in my head helping me to better understand my foreign instincts.

Unfortunately, though, understanding them doesn't make them go away.

No.

They're just getting stronger.

As evidenced by the growing pile of clothes surrounding the perimeter of the bed.

If it bothers Reaper, he doesn't show it. He's joined me the last couple of nights and woken me with orgasms every morning.

Well, almost every morning.

Today, he appears to be missing.

So I go to shower on my own, a little disappointed in our break in routine.

Not that we have a set schedule or anything.

Except, the last handful of days have followed a similar sequence—morning orgasms with Reaper, cupcakes for breakfast, afternoon learning sessions taught by Orcus with some group meals tossed in, and evening walks with Flame.

It's been… nice. Exceptional, even.

So where is Reaper?I wonder as I wrap a towel around my midsection. He's the only one who has slept in the bed with me, probably because I haven't invited the others to join.

But they also haven't asked.

If they did, I… I might say yes.

The warmth spreading through my veins is one I finally understand. It's arousal, but a far more intense version brought on by my no-longer-dormant Omega side.

Yesterday, Orcus finally explained to me what the heat experience is that Reaper keeps mentioning.

"It's about procreation. You'll become insatiable, and it'll take all three of us to satisfy you," he told me, his accent somewhat thicker as he spoke the words. "And by the end, you will likely be with child."

Pregnant, I think now, my palm pressing to my belly. Why doesn't that scare me?

It should.

I've never desired children.

But that was when I thought I would have to raise them in this world or couple with one of the men in my village.

With the fae, I… I don't know. It doesn't sound all that bad, being with them.

"Do you want a child?" I asked Orcus yesterday.

"I do," he answered without hesitation. "But I want a mate more."

I frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't want children, or if you're not ready for children, we won't rut you. We can satisfy you in other ways." He smiled then, like he was thinking of those other ways.

But I was too caught up on the word rut—which he said a few times during our conversation—to focus on those other ways.

I want the fae to rut me, I think now. Is that crazy?

I stare at myself in the mirror.

It doesn't feel very crazy. In fact, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe it's because I'm all hot and bothered from my missed session with Reaper. Maybe it's just fate.

Maybe I should stop overthinking things and go find that Death Fae,I think, my gaze narrowing in the mirror.

Why should he be the one who gets to start our morning fun? And why hasn't he asked me to touch him back yet?

I run my fingers through my damp hair and step into the bedroom, determined to find the man on my mind and demand some answers.

But when I reach the living area, all I see is Flame in his jaguar form.

He's lounging on the foyer marble, his big head having lifted when I entered. His green eyes blink at me. And I blink back.

"Where's Reaper?" I ask him.

He stands and stretches, his sleek form displaying all those impressive muscles. Then he prowls toward me, still in cat form.

I watch him, waiting for him to shift, but he doesn't. Instead, he comes right up to me and rubs himself against my leg.

My fingers automatically find his soft fur, my lips quirking up at the sides.

"Good morning to you, too," I say as he nudges me back into the bedroom. "Are you going to cuddle me instead of Reaper?"

It's not exactly what I was looking for, but I wouldn't mind curling up in bed with Flame's jaguar. He's so soft and warm and powerful. That last part is very evident as he guides me toward the bed and practically knocks me down onto the mattress.

A gasp leaves me as I land unceremoniously on my ass, his big body crowding mine.

"What are you doing?" I breathe as I scramble backward onto the bed, a soft laugh catching in my throat. Because his jaguar is clearly feeling playful.

Except, as he climbs onto the bed, there's nothing playful at all in his eyes.

Especially not as his snout disappears under my towel to touch the apex between my thighs.

My mouth drops open, stunned.

Only to be even more surprised as the massive jaguar starts crawling up my body and begins shifting into a man.

Flame.

By the time his snout would have reached my face, he's fully changed into his human form.

And very naked on top of me. "Hello, little panther," he murmurs, a purr underlining his voice as he draws his nose along my cheek. "You're smelling particularly sweet this morning."

I shiver, my thighs clenching around his in response to his sensual rumble. It's different from Orcus's, which always seems to relax me.

Flame's purr can be soothing, too. But as I'm learning right now, it can also be extremely sexual.

His lips ghost across my jaw, his movements hypnotic and new. He's only kissed me on the cheeks a few times, the chaste touch nothing compared to the seductive predator on top of me.

"Reaper and Orcus are talking with the Emissary," he tells me softly. "It seems Orcus might finally meet the elusive Queen today."

I still. "She's ready to meet?"

Flame nods, his mouth going to my neck. "That's the working theory, yes." He nibbles my pulse. "We might get some answers today. But until then… I vote that we play."

"Shouldn't you be there with them?" I ask, confused as to why Orcus and Reaper left him behind. I'm not surprised that I'm not on the invitation list; I'm a human.

Or sort of a human, anyway,I think, still confused by this "Omega soul" that's taking over my life.

"Reaper and I drew blades, and I won." Pride colors Flame's tone, his lips curling against my neck. "So I chose to be here with you while they handle the political bullshit."

"Drew blades?" I repeat, not understanding what he meant by that.

"It's a game we play—whoever draws a sharp toy the fastest wins." He goes to his elbows on either side of my head. "I partially shifted my hand while he conjured a dagger. It was almost a tie, but Orcus declared me the winner."

I just stare at him. "That's a game?"

He grins. "Yeah, kitten, it's a game. And since I won, my reward is playing with you."

Kitten?I think. What happened to "little panther"? My brow furrows. "I'm not a kitten."

Flame chuckles and nods. "Little panther it is, then."

"Madam panther," I tell him, then frown. "No. Little panther is fine." Madam makes me think of the elderly matrons of my village. Little is… well, I am smaller than all these fae, so I'll accept the adjective since it's said endearingly, not condescendingly.

"As you wish, little panther," he murmurs. "Any other demands you would like to issue this morning? I'm yours to command."

I arch a brow. "You are?"

"Always."

Hmm. That could be a dangerous proclamation, especially in my current mood.

Reaper seems to have trained my body to expect orgasms every morning now. He's clearly woven some sort of sensual spell over me.

Or maybe it's my Omega side making me feel so hungry for a man's touch.

Regardless, I have a naked Shifter Fae on top of me.

A sexy-as-sin Shifter Fae, I think, clarifying with an internal grin. A sexy-as-sin Shifter Fae who says he's mine to command.

And he's hard, too.

Not just all those muscles, but between my legs. I can feel his heat through the thin fabric of my towel.

His face was just down there in jaguar form,I remember, shuddering. There's no doubt in my mind that he could smell my arousal, not to mention see it.

All our walks have been sweet, his patience with me appreciated. But I want more than holding hands and chaste kisses on the cheek.

I want him.

Fae, I want them.

These males are my addiction. It's… it's like I'm alive for the first time in my life. And I'm fully embracing the refreshing experience.

They don't want to hurt me; they want to protect me.

Cherish me.

Make me their mate.

Three fae, one sort-of-Omega.

Not a bad existence. In fact, it sounds like an amazing one.

"Should I be scared?" Flame asks, his eyes studying mine.

I blink up at him. "What? Why would you be scared?"

"Because you're taking an awfully long time to come up with your next command."

Oh.I lick my lips. "Right, yes, you should probably be…"

"Yeah?" He arches a dark brow, his violet irises radiating sinful intent. "Do your worst, little panther. Tell me what to do."

The dare makes me even wetter between my thighs, my mind reeling with foreign concepts and ideas. Most of them have been put there by Reaper.

"Someday soon, I'm going to lick you down there, pet," he said to me yesterday. "I'm going to nibble this swollen little clit of yours while you come, then bring you to completion again on my tongue."

My insides clench at the memory, my desire to feel Reaper's mouth down there making me hot all over.

Fae, what would that be like?

Would Flame show me?

He observes me through his thick lashes, his handsome face scant inches from mine. How can I ask him to kiss me down there when our lips have not even met yet?

Maybe it's tame, but I want to start by feeling his mouth on mine. By learning his tongue. By experiencing his brand of passion and understanding what he likes.

Not necessarily to compare him to Reaper, but just to know Flame.

To know both my fae men.

Oh, just the thought of having them both has my legs tensing all over again. I need. I burn. "You have to kiss me, Flame. Please. I?—"

His mouth silences my ramblings, his lips gentle against mine.

At least… at first.

But after a few seconds, that gentleness melts into something hotter, something coaxing in nature.

It's subtle, yet I can feel him mastering me with soft, enticing strokes. Telling me what he wants with a silent sweep of his tongue. And taking command the moment I part my lips.

Fae…He's all sensual grace.

A slow seduction.

A purposeful embrace.

A flawless kiss.

I shouldn't be surprised. Everything about Flame is perfect, from his handsome features, to his stunning jaguar, to his gentlemanly mannerisms.

But there's nothing gentlemanly about this kiss now.

His tongue dominates mine as he purrs.

Oh, that rumble. It's… it's so hypnotic. So commanding.

"I love your purr," I say against his mouth. "It… it makes me tingle all over."

He grins. "It should. That's my jaguar's mating call. He uses it to soothe you, but also to seduce you." He draws his nose along my cheek to my ear. "Is it working, little panther? Does it make you want to spread your legs for me?"

"My legs are already spread," I tell him.

"Mmm, but not wide enough," he replies, his palms skimming down my sides. "This towel is also in the way."

"Then maybe you should remove it," I suggest, feeling oddly bold and a whole lot needy.

"Is that another command, my panther queen?"

I quiver, liking that new endearment. Queen makes me sound powerful, not weak. It's a title of distinction. Although, I'm not quite sure I've earned it.

But if he feels I'm his panther queen, then I'll accept it. "Kiss me again," I beg him, having lost whatever topic we were discussing. I wasn't even sure why we began talking to begin with. I want more of his tongue, more of his mouth, more of his passion.

And he gives it to me.

Oh, how he gives it to me.

His kisses are more sensual than Reaper's, but both of them are equally potent. Addictive. Lethal to my brain cells.

Because I no longer know up from down or left from right. Not that directions matter right now.

"Flame," I breathe.

"Alina," he returns, his mouth wet against mine. "Tell me to taste you. Please tell me to taste you." He kisses me again before I can reply, his purr intensifying with the motion. "My jaguar wanted to lick your sweet pussy so fucking badly, but I pulled him back. I need your consent. I want your command."

My thighs squeeze his, my insides weeping with the need to obey his request while issuing a demand of my own. It's a strange combination, this feeling of being empowered yet knowing deep down that I'm actually submitting.

He wants to lick me.

He's telling me to command him to do so.

And I want nothing more than to utter that demand.

"Taste me," I say to him. "Taste me everywhere, Flame."

His violet gaze is tinged with ebony flecks, something I've learned that indicates his animal is close to the surface. He's part beast, yet all man.

He wants my consent—which I've provided. And I can see the relief that consent has given him.

Something settles in him.

A refined predator takes control.

And dark intent flashes in his blazing gaze.

I quiver in anticipation, expecting him to rip the towel from my body. But he doesn't.

Instead, he kisses me again.

But this kiss is far more intense than the last one, even more dominant. Like I've just unleashed something inside him. Granted him permission to do whatever it is he really wants to do.

Allowed his jaguar to lead, I realize. I'm not sure how I know that, but I do. And I'm both terrified and thrilled by it.

He growls. Purrs. Growls again.

Then fists the fabric between us and yanks it open.

Almost fully black eyes stare down at my exposed breasts, his tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. "I'm going to devour you, Alina." His voice is deep and low and filled with warning. "I need you to pick a safeword."

My brow furrows. "A what?"

"A safeword," another voice says as Reaper appears beside us on the bed, his head propped up by one hand. "A word that'll tell him, well, us, if we've gone too far."

I gape at his lounging form, surprised by his sudden appearance. And also stunned by his explanation. "Can't I just say stop?"

"No," they both reply in unison.

"Sometimes, you may tell us to stop when you really mean for us to keep going," Reaper adds. "So we need a word that actually means stop. A word that'll yank us out of the moment and force us to check in with you."

"Not that we won't be doing that the whole time," Flame says, his eyes more violet again in color. "It's just a precaution in case our beasts take it too far."

"It's also a way to demonstrate your power, Alina," Reaper tells me with a smile. "No dominant man wants his woman to safeword him. Knowing you can stop it all with one word gives you complete control, even when you might feel like you have none at all."

Flame nods, agreeing with Reaper.

If he's bothered by his friend's interruption and unexpected appearance, he doesn't show it. Actually, he seems quite at ease with Reaper's presence.

Because they want to share me.

A shiver works through me at the knowledge of their desire. I think I want them to share me, too.

"So what'll it be, pet?" Reaper asks, his lips curling into a sinfully enticing smile. "What's your safeword?"