The thought had crossed my mind, that if I can’t escape by the time the party comes around that I should go out on my own terms. It seems a better option than my fate if I stay here. I don’t know what I’m going to do, what I could do, but I know I don’t want this to be the end.
And if it is, I’d at least like to go out with some really good memories.
I glance up at Rorrick and Seven, taking in their tense shoulders. Rorrick’s eyes meet mine and there’s something in them that feels. . . not as final.
My eyes start to water more and I take a deep breath to hold it back, to keep from losing my shit here in front of these two men. I don’t want to look weak. I’m a strong woman. I’ve been through the worst of the worst. I’ve got this.
The sound that suddenly comes trickling from Seven’s mouth nearly does me in. Softly at first, the song he starts to sing echoes in the room around us, filling the air with what seems almost like the saddest lullaby known to man. He’s singing. For me.
The world flickers and I’m no longer sitting in bed again. We’re on the beach, our asses planted in the sand, the fae food spread around us. The wind rustles through the palm trees. The waves crash against the shore. Sun heats my skin. It’s beautiful.
And not real.
Not what I want to feel.
I’m hungry, but not for food anymore. I'm hungry for them.
And if I’m going to die, I plan to satiate that hunger.
I lift up on my knees and scoot through the sand to wrap my arms around Seven’s shoulders. His song cuts off abruptly, his eyes widening as they meet mine.
“Enough of this,” I command, and in an instant we rip out of his dream world, right back to the bedroom. I don’t know how my magic works, how it happens, but I don’t really care.
All I care about are the men in front of me.
My arms are still tangled around the sweetest man with the wide eyes peering at me through thick dark lashes. A smile tilts my lips as my stomach flips just thinking about him.
“Enough pretending,” I whisper against his mouth, before slamming my lips fully to his.
TWENTY-FIVE
Crymson
For two long seconds,Seven doesn’t react. His arms are frozen at his sides. His lips are unmoving against mine. And then something changes. The hunger within me seems to grab ahold of him, too.
Large hands grip my waist and jerk me closer, pressing me so tightly to him, that it’s almost hard to breathe. That’s okay. I don’t need air anyways. The remainder of the food is scattered across the bed, discarded at some point before the alternate reality Seven created and my mad scramble to kiss him. Rorrick sits on the other end of the bed still, unmoving, but I feel his eyes on me as Seven’s large hand comes up and threads into my hair. He pulls away to trail his lips across my throat, the sharp points of his fangs gently scratching across my sensitive skin with shivers that wreck my body.
“We shouldn’t,” Seven groans against my throat. “He’ll smell it from a mile away.”
My heart slams harder at his rumbling warning.
“It’s foolish,” Rorrick agrees.
And yet neither one of them stop it. Neither one of them push me away. Instead, when I reach out my hand for Rorrick, he immediately climbs onto the bed and makes his way over to us.
Seven’s lips trace along my collarbone, exploring every inch of me even as Rorrick grabs my hair and slams his lips to mine. Unlike Seven, Rorrick is rougher, his lips giving me no option to control the kiss, his body holding me hostage as he consumes me. My hand comes up and presses against his chest, stroking, wanting to rip him apart and make him a part of me. It’s a strange yearning, to want to claim him, both of them. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to claim someone before. But here, in this court, where I’m likely going to die, I want something that’s entirely mine. If only for a moment.
Rorrick hisses against my lips, the sound both pain and pleasure as he jerks back the same time as Seven leans away with a gasp. I blink in confusion, trying to gain my sanity in case this is them changing their mind. After all, it is risky, but I’m not going to push if they really don’t want to. The moment I’m able to focus on Rorrick, it’s to find him looking down at his chest where my hand had rested. There, emblazoned on his skin, is a tiny, unmistakably delicate “C”. The swirl of the dark line is intricate and yet unmistakably the letter C.
“What--” I start, confused.
“You marked us,” Seven hisses, his fangs peeking from his lips as he speaks.
Sure enough, I follow his gaze to the matching letter “C” on his own pectoral. I stare down at my hand in shock.
“I. . . didn’t mean to,” I admit in a moment of panic seizing my chest. “I don’t know how to remove it.” My finger sweeps back and forth like if I try hard enough I can erase it away.
But it remains.
