by Sadie Moss
But Sol was patient. Incredibly patient.
His soft voice and the rhythmic circles of his thumbs on my knees gave me something to focus on, and I found myself getting lost in those twin sensations. My mind began to drift like a piece of wood floating on a lazy river. Slowly, without direction or purpose.
We might’ve sat there for hours. I lost track of time as I floated in this hazy space where it was peaceful and quiet.
Suddenly, the familiar sinking sensation of a vision filled me. My soul took on extra weight, and I fell out of my body, drifting through blackness.
It’s working!
Trying to contain my excitement so I wouldn’t jerk myself out of this vision, I let my consciousness pass through the black void.
But when the world coalesced around me, I wasn’t floating in space like usual. I was inside a body. My own body.
And someone was inside me.
I looked up into a pair of bright green eyes just as Sol plunged forward again, his thick cock stretching me and filling me.
A cry of surprised pleasure tumbled from my lips. My inner walls clamped around him, and my clit throbbed as he buried himself to the hilt. My body was on fire, flushed and damp with sweat as he kissed me, sending a torrent of sensations racing through my body.
Sol braced himself above me, thrusting deep again and again, and I clung to his arms to anchor myself as a powerful orgasm overwhelmed me. His beautiful, enigmatic eyes saw everything and nothing as I shattered around him, sobbing with pleasure.
The world exploded in a swirl of bright light and absolute darkness, and I felt myself spiraling through it.
Then I jerked, pitching sideways and almost ending up in the clear blue water of the fountain. With a yelp, I tried to brace myself on the marble edge. Sol’s large hands darted out to catch my shoulders, and I looked up at him, wide-eyed.
We were in the garden, just like we’d been before.
I was dressed.
He was dressed.
Everything was exactly as it had been when I closed my eyes.
So why could I still feel the stretch of his cock and his hot hands branding my skin? Why could I still see the look of worship and ecstasy on his face?
“What happened, Willow tree? Did it work?”
“Yes… I think so.” My voice was shaky. “It was different than before though. I was… there. And it wasn’t a vision of something happening right now. It couldn’t have been.”
His brows drew together, a small line appearing between them. “Did you have a vision of the future?”
My heart thudded in my chest as I contemplated his question. I licked my lips and could’ve sworn I still tasted the spicy essence of Sol on them.
“I… I don’t know.”
10
Willow
For the eight months I’d worked at Osiris, my co-worker Grace had been my unofficial wing woman.
Her only goal? To get me laid.
I hadn’t seen her since the night I went to visit the bar for a drink and some impromptu dancing, and now that I’d quit, I wasn’t sure when—or if—I’d ever see her again. But apparently, my Sight had taken on the role in her absence.
Sheesh. If it’s not visions brought on by getting to second base, it’s visions of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
Or not had. Yet.
My Sight was obviously just as sexually frustrated as I was.
But had that vision been real? Was it really a glimpse into the future?
I’d evaded Sol’s questions about what I’d seen, promising him it wasn’t anything relevant to the search for the shades or the two weird sisters behind them. My cheeks had turned bright red, and every touch of his hand as he escorted me back to my room, no matter how innocent, had sent butterflies flapping like crazy in my stomach.
The question of whether or not it was a true foresight had gnawed at my brain over the past few days. My visions had never been wrong so far. But they’d never predicted the future either. Was I going to have sex with Sol?
And why am I standing here wondering if it’s going to come true, when I could very easily make it come true if I just walked over to his room, knocked on the door, and jumped on him?
I made a sour face at my reflection in the full-length mirror, twisting and pinning the last piece of hair into place. My hair didn’t often like to stay in basic ponytails, so getting it to cooperate with an elaborate updo was always a challenge, but I was pretty happy with the results of my efforts.
The truth was, I’d almost worked up the nerve to go to Sol’s room several times, but something always stopped me.
Fear.
I knew what I wanted. I’d made my peace with the new version of myself—the one who craved physical contact in a way I never had before, and who reveled in wanton sensuality.
But the more sure I became about what I wanted, the less sure I felt about what the brothers wanted. Each of them had expressed interest in me, either by saying it outright or through their actions. But none of them had pressed for more. None of them had made a move. Malcolm had even pulled away after our intense session on the training room floor.
So maybe I was wrong about all of this. Maybe none of them really wanted me—not the way I wanted them. There had been plenty of opportunities, and these domineering alpha men didn’t seem like the types to hold back if they wanted something.
An uncomfortable disappointment twisted my gut as I brushed my hands over the front of my dress. The world wouldn’t end if they didn’t want me. And I refused to base my sense of self-worth on whether my attraction to these three men was returned.
I knocked out a powerful vampire warrior with my fucking thigh muscles. I’m strong. And I’m beautiful.
The dress shimmered softly as my hands slid over the fabric. It was an iridescent purple that almost seemed to shift colors depending on how the light struck it. The style of the dress was modern and elegant, sleeveless with a high neckline and keyhole back.
For someone who had only a single nice dress in her closet back home, it always felt a little surreal to don these stunning ensembles. Like I was a little girl who’d snuck into her mom’s room to play dress-up.
Carrick ran his castle like a fucking cruise ship—with good food, a regimented schedule, and plenty of entertainment. It seemed as though almost every night there was an elaborate feast with decadent food and drink, dancing, and celebrating. But tonight was a bigger deal than usual. The brothers had been able to get me out of attending most of the dinners Carrick hosted, but the king had refused to give me a pass on this one.
Because it was in my honor.
Tomorrow, I would face my second trial, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration of that.
The planned dinner felt a little bit like a last meal, but I tried not to think of it that way. I’d survived one fight. I could survive the next one too.
A soft rap on the door pulled me from my thoughts before they could spiral too far into worry and nerves.
“Come in!” I called. Carrick hadn’t visited my room since that first time, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t him. The scent of smoke and cloves drifted into my nostrils, pulling a smile to my lips.
Jerrett poked his head into the room before swinging the door open with a long wolf whistle. “Fuck me sideways, sweetheart. You’re a goddamn knockout.”
Malcolm and Sol stood behind him. They were all dressed in tailored suits that highlighted the lines of their tall, muscular bodies, broad shoulders, and lean waists. They looked good enough to eat, and I swore drool actually pooled in the corner of my mouth.
I wasn’t the only one staring. Jerrett still had his lips pursed, though his whistle had died out, and the look on Malcolm’s face made me blush. Sol looked almost sad, and I realized that although in some ways he could “see” me better than either of his brothers, in moments like this, his sightlessness kept him from experiencing the world the way they did.
The three brothers stepped into the room, and I cros
sed over to Sol, taking his hand and gliding it across the soft, silky fabric that covered my shoulder. “It’s purple. A deep purple that sort of changes color in the light.”
His beaming smile was worth all the uncertainty about my vision and his feelings. Regardless of what my Sight had shown me, regardless of whatever may or may not exist between us, I could tell my gesture had touched him.
“You’re lovely, Willow tree. Inside and out.” He traced his hand down my dress, brushing the side of my breast and trailing his fingers over my waist.
Jerrett muttered something that sounded like “lucky bastard” when Sol took my arm to escort me from the room.
“I’m nervous, is what I am,” I admitted in a low voice, as Jerrett and Malcolm fell into step beside us. “Carrick said this feast is in my honor. Do I actually have to do anything? Or just show up and eat?”
“You won’t be expected to make a speech or anything.” Malcolm grimaced. “But be prepared for all eyes to be on you. My father never stops playing games, and his aim tonight is to put you under scrutiny.”
“Why?”
“He wants to make you doubt yourself.”
Great. Like I needed any help with that.
“This is all a fucking waste of time,” Jerrett muttered under his breath. “The feasts. Your trials. They’re all distractions from what we should be doing—hunting down those crazy-ass sisters and their army of shades.”
I licked my lips, hating what I was about to say. “The hunt doesn’t have to stop. You guys don’t have to stay here just because I—”
Three low growls cut me off. The men stopped walking, all of them turning to face me as if they’d practiced this move a dozen times.
“Good fucking luck getting rid of us, sweetheart.” Jerrett narrowed his eyes, his sharp features stony.
“We stay.”
That was all Malcolm said, but there was such finality in his words that it left no room for argument. Not that I would’ve put up a fight anyway. I sure as hell didn’t want them to go. I needed their protection, their wisdom and strength. I needed them.
We didn’t discuss it any further as we made our way to the great hall. I was relieved the brothers were determined to stay with me, but I hated that they had to choose between their sworn duty as hunters and protecting me. I’d filled Jerrett and Malcolm in on my vision of the weird sisters, and I could tell we all felt the same sense of urgency.
They were building an undead army for some purpose. And the longer it took us to go after them, the bigger their army would get.
Yet here we were, dressed to the nines and about to attend a lavish feast.
Malcolm had been right about his father’s intentions. When we entered the great hall, the place was already packed with vampires seated around large tables. All eyes turned to us, and I felt like I had a thousand-watt spotlight trained on me. Hitching in a deep breath and tightening my grip on Sol’s arm, I accompanied the men up to a large table near the front of the room where empty seats waited for us.
Carrick sat at the middle of the long table, gazing out over his people. His sycophantic entourage sat nearby, and several guards were stationed against the wall behind him.
His smug dark eyes watched me as the men and I settled in at the far end of the long table, but I studiously ignored him. As I gazed around at the assembled crowd, I realized something was different.
There were humans here.
Lots of them.
They sat at tables alongside the vampires and were finely dressed, but they still stood out like sore thumbs. They looked plainer—weaker—than the supernatural beings around them. There was a mix of men and women, and they all had slightly dazed looks on their faces.
“Are they here for dinner or to be dinner?” I whispered, leaning over to speak into Malcolm’s ear.
“Both.” His voice was hard. “They’ll eat with us, and as the evening progresses, vampires will feed from them. Feasts like this usually devolve into blood orgies by the end of the night.”
I shot him a glance. “And you don’t approve?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug, but his jaw tightened. I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but I didn’t want to press him while we were under such intense scrutiny.
A short while later, the first course was served by human servants. Then the second and third. Each dish was elaborate and opulent, made with ingredients I was sure I couldn’t even pronounce. With my heightened senses picking up every nuance of flavor, I was in foodie heaven, attacking each dish with enthusiasm the moment it was placed in front of me.
When we reached the fourth course, I finally looked up from my plate to find all three of the brothers staring at me… along with the rest of the room. I’d completely forgotten I was the main attraction of this feast.
I swallowed quickly, dabbing at my lips with a napkin—see? I had some manners—and setting down my fork. “What? It’s good!”
Malcolm’s eyes had been clouded over with worry since the night we arrived here, but for the first time in days, the veil lifted. His rich brown irises were alight with humor as he gazed at me.
“I’ve just never seen someone attack their food with such ferocity—unless it was living.”
I smirked. “Hey, I like to eat. I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“And you shouldn’t.”
His eyes darkened slightly, hunger mixing with the humor.
Now that I’d noticed their eyes on me, I couldn’t seem to turn off that awareness. When the next course was delivered, I dove into it with gusto, keenly aware of Jerrett watching me lick my lips, and Sol grinning widely as I made little sounds of pleasure.
The tone of the entire room seemed to shift at some point, morphing from an enjoyment of food to other sensual pleasures. At the tables before us, I noticed the human women dropping the straps of their fancy gowns, leaning provocatively into the vampire bodies around them. I almost dropped my glass of wine when I saw one vampire turn, quick as lightning, and latch onto the pale skin of the redhead next to him.
Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, and his throat worked rhythmically as he drank. One hand cupped the back of her neck, while the other roamed over her body, massaging her breasts and stroking her stomach before slipping under her skirt.
I let out a breath of surprise, wrenching my gaze away. Neither he nor she seemed bothered about the presence of hundreds of witnesses as she moved needily against his hand.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
“Are you all right?” Sol’s voice was soft.
“Yeah. I just didn’t quite expect—I mean, I know you warned me, I just…” My words trailed off, and I glanced around the room again. The first vamp and his redheaded human weren’t the only ones locked in an embrace anymore. “Do they enjoy that?”
The answer seemed painfully obvious, if the muffled moans and sighs reaching my ears were to be believed.
“They do.” Malcolm was the one to answer this time. He stared out at the sea of bodies before us with a tight expression on his face. “The feeling of being fed from can be very pleasurable, and it’s easy for humans to become addicted to it.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not so bad then, I guess.”
“No, except most of these humans aren’t here by choice. They didn’t volunteer for this life or come to us willingly. Many of them were hikers on the Appalachian trail, plucked from their camps in the cover of night and brought here. If you asked them now if they wanted to leave, they would refuse, but that’s because they’re enthralled. Addicted.”
My stomach turned slightly. All the humans in this room seemed to be having a very good time. But did their submission to the vampires still count as voluntary if they weren’t in their right minds?
“Are all the humans enthralled?”
“No, not all. But most. Some don’t fall under the spell as easily as others.”
I was starting to understand more and more why Malcolm and his brothers had made a vow not to drin
k fresh blood. Still, even knowing what I did now, a small thrill crept up my spine at the thought of drinking from someone, or of having someone else drink from me.
I’d never want to feed from an unwilling person or coerce someone, but…
“Do vampires ever drink from each other?”
I turned my gaze back to the men around me in time to see them all react to that question. Sol breathed deeply through his nose, and Jerrett let out a frustrated groan.
“Good Christ, you’re killing me, sweetheart. Asking that so innocently, with those beautiful hazel eyes so big and wide.”
“Well, of course they’re wide! Do you see what’s going on around us?” I hissed under my breath.
“I know, Will.” He chuckled, running his hand through his hair. “And I know you can’t help it. You’re just so damned tempting sometimes it makes me contemplate stupid things.”
Malcolm shot Jerrett a quelling look then turned to me. “Yes. Vampires sometimes feed from each other, either for pleasure or for healing. In the right context, it feels… good… for both the receiver and the giver. And it temporarily boosts a vampire’s strength and healing abilities to feed from another of our kind.”
“But we can’t feed from you, Willow tree. Ever.” Sol’s voice was sad but blunt. “It would drive us mad with power and hunger. We wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
He didn’t elaborate any further, probably because he didn’t want to be overheard by anyone in this room. But I knew enough by now to understand the implication of his words. They couldn’t feed from me because I was fae. The blood in my veins would drive them mad with lust for more, an all-consuming hunger that wouldn’t die until I did.
A shiver worked its way down my spine as one of the servants whisked away my plate, setting a carafe of wine down on the table.
As dangerous as it was, as stupid as it was, part of me wanted to drive these three men mad like that.