by Rhea Watson
“I love you,” I whispered, the confession coming out of nowhere, my brain off and my heart on. “I know we don’t really know each other outside of this place… I know it’s soon. It’s crazy to be in love like this, and I know it could just be the bond—”
“I love you too, Katja,” Elijah growled against my skin. “I don’t care if it’s just the bond.” Slowly, he lowered me so that I stood flatfoot before him, then forced me out of the hug, wrenching my arms from his neck so that he could hunch down to cup my face. His eyes shimmered, starlight caught in the glossy sheen, and he chuckled. “We have the time now. We have each other. That’s all that matters.”
I sniffled, brushing the damp away when it dribbled down his cheek. “And Rafe and Fintan?”
His fingers slowly worked into my hair, massaging the base of my skull, tipping my head back. “We have them too.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t love him more, he said that. He accepted what my heart needed—all of them, each one different and imperfect and a piece of me that I couldn’t live without.
Smoothing my hands up his sweaty torso, over rippling muscle and the pounding drumbeat of his heart, I eased onto my tiptoes to kiss him—only for Elijah to weave his fingers through my stick-straight hair, combing it out on either side with a scowl.
“What did he do to you?” he grumbled, his warm browns giving way to the dragon’s gold, his grip on me tightening. I clutched at his forearms corded with muscle, delicious and mine, and smirked.
“You should be asking what I did to him,” I whispered back, a touch of darkness blossoming in my smile when his eyebrows shot up. “Did you expect anything less of a dragon’s mate?”
Or a vampire’s partner? Or the lover of an Unseelie fae prince?
“No,” Elijah rumbled, looking very much like he wanted to devour me whole. “I didn’t.”
Ugh. If he wanted to devour me, let him do it, right here, right now, right in the grass—
“Get a room, you heathens.”
Fintan’s shout landed just before our mouths collided, the charge shimmering between us positively electric—and definitely interrupted. As Elijah hooked a possessive arm around my waist, the look in his eyes promising that this lull wouldn’t last long, I eased back around just in time for Rafe and Fintan’s arrival. And while I would have preferred to be shoved to the ground right now with a dragon’s mouth skimming my body, this stupid red dress shredded to pieces and any lingering traces of Lloyd on my skin wiped away, standing with my three guys, my heart whole and Tully immediately back in my arms… well, that was pretty phenomenal too.
“So, uh, what do we do now?” I asked after a painfully long fifteen seconds of awkward silence, the four of us exchanging glances as if acutely aware that this was the first time we were all interacting as free supers off Xargi’s grounds. Tully nuzzled under my chin, purring, kneading, and my bed flashed in my mind’s eye—my own queen-sized bed with all the blankets clumped and pillows stacked high, waiting for me back in my Seattle apartment. “Do we just… go home?”
Did we date internationally? Cross-dimensionally? I loved each man present—Elijah for his protectiveness and his acceptance of me as I was, Fintan for his humor and his impulsiveness, and Rafe for his wit and his comfort. But, really, we had met in prison, trapped inside this fucked-up bubble for months, the scope of our budding relationships dictated by others.
And now we were just… here.
Free to do what we wanted.
With… whoever we wanted.
What if they walked away? What if Fintan went back to his courtiers and Rafe buried himself in his next book? What if Elijah thought fate had made a mistake and kept looking elsewhere?
What if I was the only one willing to start from the beginning—to explore who we all were to each other outside of handcuffs and jumpsuits and leather collars?
What if I wasn’t enough for these three to—
“I…” Fintan pressed his lips together, almost like he was considering his words before he just blurted them out. The air stilled around us, the winds dying down, the rustling of the grasses falling silent. Rafe and Elijah exchanged glances that were way too serious for my liking, and I hugged Tully tighter, this irrational fear in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight dragging me down, down, down…
“I have a suggestion,” Fintan admitted at last, shattering the quiet, the corners of his sly mouth quirking. “It involves a lot of booze, a bit of dancing, a palace stocked with all you’ll ever need, a bath the size of a stadium, and…” He nudged at Rafe with his elbow, then winked at me. “And a sun that never rises.”
“As long as it’s far away from here, I’m game,” Rafe insisted, catching my eye briefly, his gaze promising a long talk somewhere private—later. My subtle nod had him flashing a shy grin, and Elijah squeezed my waist, watching it all unfold.
“Agreed,” the dragon said, his voice giving way to a seductive grit that had my toes curling. “So long as I can spread my wings, fae.”
Fintan swept a hand through his hair, roguish and alluring in the way he growled, “I swear, dragon, you’ll touch the fucking stars.”
Nibbling my lower lip for a moment, I eased away from Elijah, needing to stand on my own two feet as I said it—as I surrendered to us.
“As long as I’m with you three, I don’t care where we go,” I told them. “As long as we’re together… I’ll be there.”
Always.
Epilogue: Katja
No drink would ever taste finer than the fae wine of the Midnight Court, nor could any liquor on Earth make me so deliciously tipsy in a single sip.
Unfortunately, I had learned my lesson the hard way two weeks ago: guzzling three glasses of the glittering amber liquid had left me hungover for the first four days of my trip to Fintan’s court in the Otherworld. The only plus there was that I hadn’t struggled alone: Elijah had been just as bad as me, downing several bottles of the stuff the first night and paying for it the following morning, then Fintan came in at a close second to him. Meanwhile, Rafe got off scot-free—the human blood provided by palace servants turned him into an animal, but that was hot.
Not embarrassing.
Nothing like vomiting all over a palatial bathroom to really endear yourself to your man’s royal parents.
But tonight was different.
Lesson learned.
Only a sip of the sumptuous elixir at the start of the night, lots of bread and water throughout the festivities, and then a half sip toward the end as things wrapped up beneath a firework display that outdid any I had ever seen. Hell, the organizers had even managed to shape one explosion into a dragon in Elijah’s honor, who—while pleasantly tipsy—had stripped down for a cheering crowd, then joined his firework doppelganger to make this a night to remember.
After all, the night was for us. In the eyes of the Midnight Court, a fae kingdom where the sun never rose but the stars shone bright, we three had rescued their captive prince from Xargi’s evil clutches. Fintan came out a hero after he embellished the inmate rebellion he had started on a whim—and for once, we let him say whatever he wanted—while Rollo shared tales of Elijah’s dragonfire and my skills with a dagger and Rafe’s tenacity at the hands of a madman who had stolen his fangs.
In the Midnight Court, my beloved vampire had found them again, the pair he lost replaced by a set of golden canines that he could swap out with smaller ivory ones when—and if—we ever went home.
As I skipped down a marble corridor illuminated with floating white orbs, dressed in a slinky silk gown that was practically see-through, home had barely crossed my mind. Two weeks of fae hospitality was enough to make you forget the human world completely—forget the politics of our supernatural society, forget the horrors of Xargi. Exquisite food and gorgeous grounds, this world so lush and green and speckled with blossoms that flowered even without the sun…
Seattle was a distant memory for the time being.
Even Tully had been spoiled rott
en, hailed for his courage and ingenuity after tales were spun by Fintan—exaggerated, again, which we let slide… again—about my familiar’s prison break-in.
Here, we wanted for nothing.
Elijah had license to fly anywhere, to crest the tallest peaks of the court’s sprawling mountain range—to touch the stars with me on his back, exhilarated and enamored.
Rafe never needed to hide in the shadows, bathed in perpetual night. Vampire prejudice didn’t extend to the fae courts; they admired his speed, his strength, and his bloodlust. He also had a raging hard-on for the royal library, where he spent most of his time if he wasn’t with us.
My pampered familiar even had his own personal attendant, one fae assigned just to him, always brushing him, allowing him to scratch up her skirts, feeding him whole fish as he lounged on a massive pillow like he was a god.
And I…
I had all that and more.
I had my boys.
My freedom.
My life.
Sure, we were in the hazy honeymoon period. This still wasn’t real, so much of our time spent drinking and lovemaking and laughing and exploring Fintan’s homeland…
But after Xargi Penitentiary, I could do without the pains of reality—just for a little while.
“Katja…”
Rafe’s dark whisper tickled the nape of my neck, but when I whirled around, up on my toes and barefoot, I found a relatively empty corridor behind me. The enclosed stone bridge stretched from the main palace to Fintan’s wing, which stood tall and proud like the galaxy’s most phallic tower ever—we still hadn’t stopped teasing him about it. Arched open windows lined the walls on either side, allowing the air to flow through—air that was always like that first breath of fall, crisp and cool and perfect for snuggling under the blankets with a man who burned hot as the sun. Or a man as cold as ice.
Or a fae just uniquely skilled with his impish tongue.
While illuminated by the enchanted orbs, charmed to look like floating stars, light as bubbles and warm to the touch, the hallway was filled with shadows—the perfect hunting ground for a vampire.
The alluring air shattered a little when Fintan and Elijah lolled around the corridor’s slight bend. Arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, drunk and merry, they started up an old fae tune, Elijah’s deep baritone the perfect complement to Fintan’s rich tenor. My dragon had proven himself quite talented at picking up obscure and useless languages—as Rafe had dubbed them—and, ugh, gods, it was hot as hell to have him and Fintan whisper filthy things to me in a dialect as old as time.
Best of all, it made my heart happy to see the pair getting along.
To see them all bonding—and not just because of me, but because they enjoyed each other’s company.
A clan of misfits.
After a quick scan of the shadows, I turned slowly and continued my amble down the corridor, hands in my luxurious skirts. Every outfit I wore was fit for a queen, my closets filled to the brim by Fintan’s sisters—who had showed up that first day to discover their brother’s girl severely hungover and in possession of nothing beyond a prison jumpsuit to wear to court. After that, it was one magnificent gown after the other, and once I had stopped puking up fae wine, me and the princesses got along just fine. Some better than others, but he had nine sisters—the odds were stacked against me that I would be besties with all of them.
Tonight was no exception to the fancy-dress policy. After all, I had appearances to maintain in court, and I did so in a beautiful silvery-white gown patterned with glittering stars. The thin straps over my shoulders probably wouldn’t last the night, the men behind me prone to destroying my outfits, and the plunging neckline had kept Fintan distracted for most of dinner. And the skirt, oh—flouncy and layered, the material fell like petals to the ground and had pockets. Practical and breathtaking.
Every arched window I passed opened to the magnificence of the Midnight Court. The kingdom glittered all around the palace, a court made wealthy by the abundance of diamonds in their mountains. Blanketed in midnight, the city reflected the sky, thousands of little white lights sparkling like the unfettered stars above. Surrounded by majesty—but here, in this winding corridor, also totally alone. Fintan’s personal guard had left us at the entrance to the prince’s domain.
And that was just the way we liked it.
“Come here, little witch…” Rafe’s seductive growl made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and sent a flood of giddy goose bumps down my arms. Lower lip caught between my teeth, I slowed, sensing he was close, maybe even right on my heels, then whipped around to find… nothing.
Same old corridor, Elijah and Fintan still a ways down, singing and laughing and teetering side to side.
Sober as ever, Rafe had all the power tonight.
And that was just the way I liked it.
I sprinted down the stone corridor with a giggle, skirt trailing behind me like a comet’s tail, like I was the heroine of an epic fantasy romance being pursued by her lover. And I was, of course, being pursued—more like hunted, not just by a lover, but a predator too.
Hair blazing, wild and free, I threw a glance over my shoulder, expecting to find a shadow in the shape of a man—nothing. Again. Lips pursed, I faced forward—then screeched when I crashed into Rafe’s much too solid chest. Clad in a full black suit, right down to the socks and the tie, luxe and rich beneath my fingers as they clawed at him, shoved at him like an escape was even possible. When our eyes met, hunger and desire blazed bright in his, and with a flash of golden fang, he hauled me off to the side and thrust me up against a patch of wall between two arched windows.
“Found you,” he growled, one hand fisted into my hair, the other plunging down my skirt and cupping me between my thighs. I gasped when he wrenched my head to the side, then squealed when he pounced. A pinprick of pain always bloomed before the explosion of pleasure, a vampire’s venom inducing an orgasm unlike any I had ever experienced. No matter how I was feeling, no matter where my mind was, a bite from Rafe made me come like we had been at it for hours, like he had worked me into such a frenzy that I just might die if he didn’t let me sink into oblivion.
Eyes clenched shut, I halfheartedly pushed at him, twisting at his jacket and squirming against his steely frame, hopelessly pinned as he drank from me. Fae fireworks paled in comparison to the bursts of light and color pinwheeling behind my lids, and my legs drifted apart like they had a mind of their own, allowing Rafe in. Through the blinding haze of pleasure, of ecstasy coursing through my veins and sapping the fight from my limbs, I vaguely felt him massaging me, grinding the base of his hand into my clit so that my cries turned squeaky with every fiery flare in my belly.
He only relented when the others arrived, walking into a scene already underway, chuckling amongst themselves. When Rafe reared back, my blood smeared his mouth, dribbled down his neck—stained my lovely dress—and he dragged me away from the wall, showing me off for Elijah and Fintan with a few clicks of his tongue.
“She’s fucking shitfaced,” the vampire announced, his eyes bloodshot and his voice rough. I twisted out of his hold, a touch light-headed but perfectly capable of handling myself after his bite. I mean, this wasn’t the first time—not even of this trip—and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
“Am not,” I protested, adding a childish stomp just to make them grin like the wolfish predators they were in the bedroom—three men who catered to me everywhere else, who spoiled me, kissed me sweetly in the rain, and protected me from outsiders.
Who had their way with me behind closed doors, rough and unrelenting, dominant and brutal and mine.
Before I could recite every drop of fae wine I’d had to drink tonight, Elijah swept in, his hulking frame wrapped in maroon; golden hair like a halo, body dressed for sin, my dragon was the best of both worlds. He jerked me to him with a firm hand on my lower back, then dragged his tongue from my bare shoulder all the way up to my ear, his deep rumble making my sex clench and
my belly loop with anticipation.
He hummed, deep and dangerous, eyes burning into the side of my face as he nudged me back into the center of the trio. “She tastes like fae wine.”
“Gentlemen, if I may?” Fintan interjected, all prim and proper in a dark grey suit almost identical to Elijah and Rafe’s, down to the pearl buttons and golden cuffs with slits in the back for his wings, his lofty accent hammed up now that he was back home. He took a prowling step toward me, then another when I scampered back and bumped into Rafe’s chest again. The fae prince cocked his head to the side, mouth stretched in a sinful smile, and nodded down to my skirt. “I believe you are missing the most important elixir of all…”
I zipped around Rafe when Fintan lunged for me with a starved look in his eye, my giggle arcing into a squeal when I felt him swipe at my flowing skirts. Unlike my prowling vampire, my fae saw no reason to creep in the shadows, to take advantage of the permanent night offered in his court. He pursued me down the rest of the corridor at a steady clip, jogging compared to my full-tilt bolt, perfectly capable of catching me in a heartbeat if he so chose, his wings an exquisite deep amber and protruding from the back of his suit.
Instead, he let me stumble into the double doors that peeled open into his bedroom, the tower soaring overhead, filled with rooms for pleasure and bathrooms like world-class spas and walk-in closets the size of my Seattle apartment. I shoved at the huge wood panels, the constellation Fintan lorded as an earl carved into the oak, and then barreled through when the locks mysteriously gave way.
Mysteriously. Right. All three of my men enjoyed letting me think I had bested them—and then thoroughly proving that I hadn’t. Most of all, I enjoyed letting them. As soon as the doors parted, I stumbled clumsily into Prince Fintan’s enormous bedroom. Before me stretched a sea of white and gold marble, a round bed in the center big enough for ten. Writing desks and golden maps of all the fae courts suggested his parents had high hopes for a scholar when they’d furnished the space, along with the hundreds of books stacked deep on the towering shelves. Three armchairs sat around a slate hearth, in which roared a plum fire that never extinguished, and behind them was a free-floating bar—literally with no legs—that navigated the room under some enchantment, rattling to your side whenever your drink was getting low.