Virile

by Virile (Evernight)

  Greigor whistled, a flatulent sound through his flabby lips. “Unique, Freestar. Am I to meet her?”

  “I left her in our bed.” Orion flopped onto one of the couches, the picture of satiation.

  “Ah. So you’ve employed old Cenna to free your latest from anything that might restrict your access to her. I applaud you. But I do look forward to meeting her.” The greasy insinuation in the other Dom’s voice made Thorn want to punch him in the face.

  “At some point,” he replied. Never.

  “She’s a redhead, I understand. Is that true? An actual redhead? Her cunt—”

  Kellis cut him off. “We don’t share, Greigor. Not our subs, not anything about them.”

  “Until you dismiss them.”

  Damn Ronnie. He should have released her the instant they learned of Adara. He inclined his head. “Until we dismiss them.”

  “And will you be dismissing this one, I wonder? I seem to remember a prophecy, something about a redhead completing a set of brothers? Does she know what she can bring to you?”

  Thorn took the plunge. “You listen to gossip and speculation, Greigor. Although I will confirm she does indeed complete us.”

  Cenna stomped into the room with a tray of fruit and cheese, setting it down with unnecessary force, and stomped back out. The interruption gave Thorn enough time to calm down.

  “She completes us and anything else would be trivial in comparison, no matter the fortunes implied.”

  After several heartbeats, the other man forced a smile. “I think I believe you. You were always—less inclined to prosperity. Well, I won’t stay. I want to get home before dark. The outlaw activity is disgraceful. We need to pull together and deal with it as a group.”

  At last something they could speak to. Thorn walked the man out to his craft, Orion and Kellis immediately behind him. They spoke until the heat became oppressive and made plans to pull all the major landowners together to mount a coordinated offensive in the near future.

  ****

  Adara fled down the hall to the bedroom and skidded to a halt, staring wildly around. Cenna had almost caught her eavesdropping, and it shamed her. Although the earful she got before the other woman came down the hall with that tray held in front of her like a battering ram took utter precedence. When Orion had nearly dragged her to their room from the study—he’d actually scooped her up and ran with her the last few yards before tossing her on the bed, she thought sometime terrible had happened.

  “Stay here, my sweet. We have company, and it’s no one we care for you to meet—ever. The man’s a porcus, and we won’t allow him to lay his eyes on you, let alone have social discourse.”

  Wow. He hustled out, tucking his shirt into his pants. Adara watched his fine ass as the fabric pulled tight against it. She’d had her hands on those glutes while he was fucking her on the big desk he used, and coitus interruptus turned out to be one of her least favorite things. Thorn had called, and Orion managed to reach the security screen without pulling out of her, but then she’d lost him. Literally. His hard dick slipped out of her and his terse response to his brother was scary. His explanation both reassured and intrigued her. She wanted to see this porcus.

  Hearing the disgusting man discuss her like she was a piece of meat—so unlike the way her men perceived women—made her skin crawl. She knew Thorn was non-committal to protect her and keep the porcus away and Orin’s assertion that they would never share her was affirming. But what porcus said next was puzzling. Prophecy? Was that like being destined? Her heart had sped up and battered at her chest wall when she heard Thorn tell the pig she completed them, with such certainty. Holy shit.

  Surely only a man in love could sound so adamant and content. She longed for him to tell her so she could reciprocate. She’d taken the risk with the twins after all and it made her—happy. Taking the risk with Thorn meant fully committing her heart, and it felt like a step she could never retreat from—he surely knew what she needed from him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The print wavered before her eyes. Some of it was written in the old words and remained unfamiliar, but there were translations in the margins. Agapi mou and some plant references, everyday bastardizations, not withstanding, she really couldn’t read what was comparable to ancient Greek or Latin. But she understood enough to know this was the prophecy—the Freestar legacy was to be fulfilled by a red-haired woman.

  After the pig man left yesterday and Orion came to retrieve her, the brothers were more attentive than ever. Cenna was a little off, but came back to herself over the course of the evening. They all congregated in the great room in the evening, and Adara learned how to play bastra. How Elliot ever thought he could win at that game—he couldn’t count past ten, and that was only if he had his shoes off—no wonder he’d lost her.

  They told her about Greigor’s visit—the man was a competitor. She wanted to tell them she’d listened in but thought that might warrant a spanking. Naturally they left out the part about Greigor wanting to meet her but now she knew why. Porcus would have let the proverbial grimalkin out of the bag.

  Thorn had made love to her when they went to bed, just as he’d done after she spoke with Sammy, and his actions underscored his solemn assertion to Greigor. The twins roused her to a feverish peak before giving her to their brother for the grand finale. No kink, certainly control, but it was so sweet. She wanted to share her feelings for him but couldn’t find the words. He wasn’t the only one better at showing than telling even though she’d said it back more than once to the twins in response to their fervent proclamations. It was different with Thorn. And she’d been wise to withhold.

  Because when she was left alone in the morning, the men called away one after the other, she began to replay the conversation she’d overheard. All of the little comments made about destiny, the assumption she was theirs right from the beginning, how they overwhelmed her—it crystallized, and kept pointing to a…prophecy. It is written, one of the twins had said. Just what might she bring them? She had come with nothing, and if she didn’t return to her world, then she’d forfeit her share of the family business so wouldn’t even have a dowry unless Elliot was so inclined to provide one.

  Immediately thinking of the ancestral tomes in the study, she slipped past Cenna, allowing the woman to believe she was back in bed—recuperating from the attentions of those men—and rifled through the volumes. She chose the one most likely to have been consulted last, the dust not as thick upon it. Ronnie had clearly never cleaned in here, and Cenna had enough to do. No matter, it made her task easier because she found the passage, marked clearly with a piece of paper doubling as a bookmark and the notations in the margins. red capitatus mulier adducet inestimabiliter fortunae

  She didn’t require a translator to get the gist, and the words burned themselves into her brain—a red-haired woman to bring incomparable fortune—she vaguely wondered if they had to keep her afterward or if she was disposable once the prophecy was fulfilled. Maybe she could serve in the center and she and Ronnie could commiserate. Wrestling with the despised self-pity, she flipped to the front of the book.

  The tome was kind of a family bible and she had no difficulty recognizing their names—and transcribing their date of birth. They were ancient by her standards! Decades older than her, yet the twins looked maybe thirty at the most and Thorn a few years beyond that. How was that possible? What else had they withheld and why? Maybe they were vampyres or other supernatural beings conjured by this planet, and all that talk of being from her planet originally was bunk. The talk about criminals coming to Virile for riches and long life surged from her memory to remind her that all tall tales had some root in truth. Gods.

  Her stomach cramped with nausea—worse than it had been acting on and off for the past week. All the proclamations of love, the sweet sharing by the twins was nothing more than hype. Thorn may have called her his heart but the farm and business interests were clearly his real heart and if the prophecy proved true, th
en the Freestar financial future would soar—if they captured and kept their star promised mate. They would rule both on and off planet—at her expense.

  Adara didn’t doubt the prophecy would come true. She’d seen and dreamed those strange and wonderful things on Virile and was convinced there were powers at work that surmounted all the machinations of mortals. It just hurt like all the furies of hell to be a means to an end, and to have been kept in the dark about it too. Well, she wasn’t going to be a willing means. The godsdamned extended contract expired in three days, and she’d resisted committing to them until now. Even Master Thorn hadn’t been able to convince her. Because he never told you he loved you, Adara. You couldn’t commit because he didn’t feel the same way you felt about him, even though you thought he did. Stupid, stupid cow. And you thought they wanted you for you.

  Tears welled up and spilled over her bottom lids to course down her cheeks and drip onto her hands. Enough. She’d become emotional again of late and it was annoying. She stuffed the book back on the shelf and snatched her hands back to wipe them on her thighs. Heavy streaks of dust were left in their wake and she moved away to head to the bath. She would shower and finish her crying bout there where the tears would be washed away and any residual redness explained by soap irritating her eyes.

  Nonnie twined around her ankles, the sinuous, warm body of the feline grounding Adara and giving her the strength to hustle back to the bedroom. Gently easing the animal aside she forced her feet to carry her away from the revelation that crushed her.

  Of course her plan was derailed before she crossed the cool tiles to escape down the hall. Thorn pushed through the double foyer doors, bringing a blast of heat with him before they swung shut. He stilled at the sight of her and held out his hand. Her feet automatically carried her to him, his avid dark eyes sweeping over her from head to toe. She sank into the proscribed stance by his dusty boots and his fingers sifted through the strands of her hair before his big palm rested on the crown of her head like a benediction. She kept her eyes down and hoped her face would dry or at least not be too obvious, and tried not to fall into the sensation of belonging this interaction gave her.

  “What are you up to, agapi mou?” Like she was really his heart.

  “I’m going to shower,” she said, striving to sound normal.

  “I’ll accompany you.” Shit. She just couldn’t get a break. She needed time to think, godsdammit. But she knew better than to try to dissuade him.

  He kicked off his footwear before pulling her to her feet, then wrapped a long arm around her, tucking her into his side as they walked to the bath. The coarse material of his outdoor clothing rasped against her tender skin and she focused on the faint discomfort, pretending her knees weren’t weak. He stripped quickly and she averted her gaze—his ripped, muscular body spoke to her regardless of his perfidy, and her traitorous pussy longed to clasp that big cock deep in its depths. Truly they had conditioned her to need them more than food and water just as they promised. Pain sliced through her chest and in that moment she hated him.

  Orion and Kellis were equally culpable, actually more culpable, because they’d used promises of love as well as pleasure to seduce her. Thorn hadn’t used that surefire way to her heart so he was more honest. But he was here and she longed to give him her pain. He already had her heart.

  The citrus-scented water rained from the showerhead, and Thorn swept her beneath it after ensuring the temperature was suitable. She hurt some more at his thoughtfulness. He took such good care of her, ensuring she lacked for nothing. Well, now she knew why. She coughed to cover the sob that rose from the depths of her soul.

  “What is wrong, Adara?” Thorn’s voice was full of concern.

  “I’m not feeling well.” She wasn’t. Her heart was broken, and it fucking well hurt. She wanted to puke and then she wanted to curl up by herself in her own bed—not that she was allowed her own space—and sleep forever.

  Thorn immediately set her on the thick mat, wrapping a warmed towel securely around her. Picking her up he carried her to their bedroom, apparently oblivious to the water that dripped from his incredible body. Setting her down, he dried her and used the towel to squeeze the excess moisture from her hair. She caught his frown as he noted the dirty streaks on the fabric as he wiped her thighs. She should have contained her emotions until he’d washed her and destroyed the evidence of her snooping. But that would have led to the shower games he played with such skill and the resulting orgasms would have softened her brain—and her resolve.

  “Get comfortable, little one,” he advised, although she supposed his statement was really just another order. She wondered what would happen if she looked uncomfortable. Maybe he could make her get comfortable. Prick. They took away her choices and it didn’t matter if the ones they insisted upon turned out for the best—all except the choice she made about staying with them longer and truly losing herself. Her own godsdamned fault.

  But she subsided against the mattress and turned her cheek into the pillow, strands of her damp hair veiling her face. Thorn took the towel away and she heard him rummaging in the bathroom. When he came back he held something pink and shiny. It made a small beep and he leaned over her and set it by her ear. Another beep.

  Squinting at the thing, Thorn then transferred his look to her. “You’re warmer than you should be. What else do you feel?”

  Adara scrambled to answer. He read her so well and saw through any attempted lie. “My chest hurts and I feel sick to my stomach.” True. The pink thing must have taken her temperature.

  “I’ll bring you some heated juice and a compress for your chest,” he promised and turned on his heel, his tight buttocks mesmerizing her as he strode from the room. The man needed to put some clothes on.

  Taking advantage of the precious few minutes alone, she ordered her thoughts. Three days until she could leave. Faking illness might take her through them all, but if not, it would be down to gritting through it. Speculating on being the forever bride to three amazing men and being showered with their largesse while they brought her incredible physical pleasure for the price of her submission—no, her surrender—seemed a fair trade if one was objective. But her heart was involved. She loved the twins with the joyful part she’d come to discover within her and being with them lifted her spirits even when they were being demanding. Thorn, on the other hand, pulled the darkly sensuous side of her to the fore, the one that matched his dark needs, taking what he gave her and then taking more.

  She’d become twisted. Sick and twisted, just as she feared that first day in the godsdamned craft when the outlaws ambushed them. How would she ever fit back into her life on her home planet? She had needs that no one could hope to meet, something else to hate these men for—and then she thought of Samuel. He was probably the one person who would understand and not be repulsed—him and the rest of the Doms he knew. She’d tried not to think about Samuel, feeling absurdly guilty because she’d fallen for three Doms while shying away from Sammy because of his proclivities. And thinking of seeking out yet other Dominants didn’t bring any sense of relief.

  Sammy had known what she was and what she needed, but she hadn’t listened, hadn’t been ready. It was unlikely she would ever have been ready except for Elliot’s thrice damned actions. He’d fucked her over good. Maybe that had been his plan all along, hoping she’d never come back so he could take over her share of the business. She was glad she hadn’t been allowed contact with anyone back home except for reassuring Samuel about extending the contract. Maybe she could hide what she was and pretend to assume the role she’d had in her sights nearly six weeks ago. There was no maybe about it. Unless she pulled herself together she would end up like Elliot—drifting, seeking to lift ennui, spending the profits as their business slowly failed. The original goal would see her through if it wouldn’t heal her heart and soothe her soul.

  She started from her thoughts as Thorn’s voice intruded. How did such a big man move so silently? “Drink this,
little one, and sleep. I will take you to the healer in the morning. He is unable to attend you because of a surge in sandstorms near the capital, but will find room for you in his schedule. He did not recommend a chest compress unless you become congested.”

  Knowing the healer would find nothing wrong with her, she simply nodded and accepted the large cup, the steam curling up from the surface of the liquid within. Her favorite juice, heated like cider. His thoughtfulness stung. Thorn’s weight dipped the mattress as he climbed in behind her and supported her shoulders while she drank. The vapor may have hid the tears that flowed again. It was nuts. She was becoming emotional after weeks of relative calm. The only time she cried now was when the pleasure became insurmountable, and Thorn coveted those tears.

  But he didn’t comment, just stayed with her until she drank the contents of the mug. Then he tucked her in and pressed a kiss on her forehead before actually leaving her alone—not to sleep as he assumed—to shore up her defenses until the lapse of the contract. Nonnie materialized from somewhere, probably from under the bed, and leapt up to knead a nest of bed linens into place in the curve of Adara’s body. The warmth and comfort her pet offered made her cry some more as she worked her fingers through the thick, lush fur. She was distantly aware of Cenna entering the room to press cool fingers on her forehead before taking a seat in the closest chair, but the old woman didn’t say anything. It was a relief because she didn’t think she could maintain the subterfuge—surely being sick unto death with a broken heart didn’t translate into illness.

  ****

  Thorn cogitated. Something was terribly wrong with Adara. She couldn’t hide from him. He called his brothers and asked them to come in early, leaving the hands to complete the field work. And he thought some more. Cenna sat with their beloved at his request, although she obviously felt he should do so.

  “What’s going on, Thorn?” Orion swaggered into the great room and dropped onto his favorite chair. A cloud of dust rose from his clothing and he swept off his broad brimmed hat. Despite the cover, his face was tanned and the blue eyes he shared with Kellis were startling in his sun darkened skin.