by JL Madore
“How good is it, Rhy?”
“You’re hitting me so hard and deep… my god.”
I bark a laugh. “Are you saying I am your god? Do you worship me, Dragon?”
“Right now, yes.” His fists grip the mattress, his shoulders bulging with the strain of bracing himself against my thrusts. “You’re a slecking god.”
Yeah, I am.
But I don’t forget about the other two.
Keyla is too sexy. Her hair is wild, her cheeks flushed as they hollow and fill as she sucks Doc’s cock. And then there are her breasts. Round and firm, they jostle and bounce with each thrust Rhy and I fill her with.
Stunning.
And then there’s Dillan.
Our bear is framed with a mass of bulk and strength and with his dark features and those piercing hazel eyes, he’s heartstoppingly sexy. He’s got his hips locked and is fighting his urge to fuck Keyla’s mouth and the excruciating pleasure on his face is too much.
I never knew I was into guys, but now that I’m mated to two of them—yeah, I so am.
Sweat drips from my brow and I adjust my grip from Keyla’s legs to Rhy’s hips. Fucking like a god is a full-bodied workout.
Over the past couple of years with Rhy, I learned he is both addictive and tireless.
But even with as many orgasms as we have shared, we never crossed the line into affection. The emotional connection tonight raises everything to a new level.
Everything is just… more.
The air rings with the sounds of sex, of four bodies slapping, throaty gasps, and wildling growls.
It’s fucking amazing.
Man, I could torture them like this all night long and by the mental energy I’m getting, they’d let me. But they have ideas and wants too and I won’t steal the show.
“All right. Let’s end round one with a bang and give someone else control. Brace yourselves. I’m going hard and then you can show me what you’ve got.”
The next few minutes are an explosion of body slapping and throaty grunts. The carnal pleasures take us to the precipice and then Keyla cries out and comes undone. Her hips buck, her body undulating in graceful lines and rounded curves.
She’s barely finished when Doc curses and locks his hips. Keyla’s wolf growls and then she’s swallowing everything he’s giving her.
Rhylan is next. His head comes back, and he thrusts his cock hard, locking his hips. The dark spice of his mating scent explodes into the air and I realize by the end of this, we will all be wearing that scent.
His ass clenches and my cock is gripped so tight, I can’t hold off.
Too. Fucking. Much.
I thrust hard and join them in the release of my lifetime. Hot jets of cream let loose and my eyes roll back. After he’s thoroughly marked and everyone is panting and gasping for breath, I collapse onto his sweaty back.
Reaching around, I plant my palms on the bed next to Keyla’s ribs to keep from collapsing and crushing them. Rhylan’s body is heaving almost as hard as mine as I nuzzle into the back of his hair. “So, this is us. Welcome to the mating, Dragon.”
Rhy barks a laugh. “If that was the demonstration of what’s to come, consider me all-in.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Keyla
The four of us lockdown for the next two days, leaving the suite as little as possible. Between the physical damage done to Rhylan to the emotional wounds inflicted because of Bloom’s suffering, we all need time to heal and solidify our bonds.
But, in the end, nothing can hold back the needs of the quadrant.
Creed and I are the royal leaders of Dornte and as my father always said, ‘A leader must embrace his duty—despite personal sentiment, obstacles, dangers, or pressures from others. To fail in this is to lose the honor of being a male of worth.’
As a child, I found his constant drilling exhausting.
Now that I’m in a position of rule, his words manifest in my mind at moments when I need them most.
It makes my wolf howl to know the loss of him was calculated and senseless, but I’m trying to focus on what I gained from him instead of what I lost.
“Hey, mates,” Dillan says, catching up with Creed and me outside the throne room. “How are the interviews going? Found any traitors yet?”
I step into his embrace and reach up to kiss his cheek. “No. Everyone has been so supportive and many of them have constructive ideas about how to re-establish Dornte as a power in the realm.”
Creed chuckles, casting me an adoring glance. “That’s because we made it clear that anyone not on team Thornebane needed to vacate the quadrant. The only people left are our supporters.”
I shrug. “It has still been a good morning, filled with positive energy.”
Creed smiles at Dillan and the two of them seem to share a private conversation that I’m not part of.
“What?” I say, frowning. “Did I say something?”
“Nothing to warrant that look of concern,” Creed says. “Dillan and I were speaking this morning about what a blessing you are to a weary soul. Your optimism and uplifting attitude make it easy to forget the worries and strife which befalls us on a regular basis.”
Doc winks at me. “Don’t get your ruff riled, babe. S’all good. We were speaking your praises, promise.”
I smile and feel my cheeks flush warm. “Well, that’s lovely, thank you.”
The three of us fall into step and make our way through the corridors back to the suite. Over the past couple of days, we’ve been walking the halls a great deal to allow the staff and visitors around the castle to get used to seeing us together.
Usually, Rhy is with us, but he had a personal errand to take care of outside the castle, so we’re a man down today.
“How are things with Isabo, babe?” Doc asks. “Do you think you’re going to like working with her?”
“I do. She knows the ins and outs of the role of the Dornte queen yet she’s open to allowing me to make my own decisions. She guided life behind the scenes, helping Creed’s mother run the castle and staff but doesn't seem territorial about me asserting myself. From what I’ve seen so far, I think we’ll work well together.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Creed says. “My mother adored the woman. I was hoping it might work out between you two.”
The two men standing guard at the doors to the heirs’ corridor bow their heads and open the doors for us as we pass.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” I say, offering them a kind smile. “Blessed be.”
Creed chuckles. “You are so incredibly polite.”
I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be? I know how it feels to have people ignore me and dismiss my importance. I won’t ever do that to others.”
“No. Of course, you won’t.”
Doc steps ahead of us as we arrive at our suite and presses his hand over the security scanner to access the heirs’ suite. Inside, we find Kotah and the guys sitting on the two couches and pouring over paperwork spread out on the stone coffee table between them.
“What are we working on today?” I ask, waving my hands to have them sit back down.
It’s weird when they jump to their feet every time I come into a room. They are my brothers-in-law for goodness sake, not my subjects.
Kotah stands and stretches. “Hawk’s courier came through the gate a couple of hours ago and brought us the findings on Raven and what she has been up to.”
I step over to have a look. “Is it all phone records?”
Hawk tilts his head from side to side. “Mostly. It would be difficult to find much more so after the fact. We’ll keep digging, but you can learn a lot from phone records.”
“And what have we learned?”
“She lived pretty much cut off from Hunter and my father but there’s a pattern to the calls. There are the weekly check-in calls, which are longer and presumably a chance for husband and wife to stay in touch, and the quick update calls that seem to correspond with other events that occurred in the realm and o
ur lives.”
I look at the sheets of dates and numbers and frown. “Other events such as what?”
Kotah lifts a shoulder. “Mostly things we already suspected. We know for a fact she was the one giving away our position during Calli’s quest. We confirmed she spoke to Hunter when we first arrived at the castle and the day the helicopter raided our rental home outside Seattle when Calli was kidnapped.”
“When Raven and Mother showed up out of nowhere and crashed our party right before we were invaded.”
Brant nods. “We got lucky that when she escaped, she landed in that farmer’s field in my sleuth’s home territory and one of my bear brothers found her.”
I point my thumb toward Honor’s door. “Is she in there?”
Kotah nods. “She’s keeping honor company as Lukas works to remove the damage done by the Blood Witch.”
Yuck. Even the mention of her brings images to mind of Creed causing her head to literally explode.
That was messy business.
“Lukas has gone over and above,” Creed says. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay him.”
I don’t so much hear Creed's discomfort, but feel it in the air. We haven’t figured out if my powers are me manifesting his mind guardian abilities or my abilities taking form or a combination of the two, but sensing mental energies is becoming easier for me.
“What is it?” I ask, searching the strain of his expression.
He hugs me to his side and whispers into my ear. “It’s nothing, Little Wolf. I’m fine.”
It’s both amusing and annoying that he thinks he can get away with comments like that. I smell your pain. Please tell me what’s wrong. I’d like to help if I can.
“How are the coronation plans going?” Jaxx asks.
Creed takes the change of subject and heads over to the bar. “Everything seems to be in order. The traditions of the ceremony were established four generations ago, so it’s simply a matter of having it and broadcasting it to the quadrant.”
“He’s already the king anyway,” Doc says.
“And a popular one at that,” I say, watching him to see if I can discern what’s bothering him. “With our abolishment of the nightly curfews and the reinstatement of public programs, the citizens of Dornte are happy to have him in power.”
Brant chuffs. “It’s not hard to raise the bar from Laryssa’s brutal insanity. The citizens of Dornte are glad to see the end of a narcissistic dictator in power.” He sends Creed an apologetic smile. “And I’m sure you’re rocking it too.”
Creed waves that away. “No need to apologize. You aren’t wrong. Anyone is better than Laryssa.”
I scoff. “That’s not true. You’re the king Dornte needs and the citizens will soon see our plans and how we run things and they will love you even more.”
Watching Creed as I am, I see his wince as he raises his glass to swallow his drink. “We’ll leave you to your sleuthing. The three of us are going to freshen up and then go down to the castle dining hall for something to eat. All those who would like to join, are welcome.”
Brant chuckles. “I’ll never turn down food.”
“We won’t be long.”
Doc eyes me up, but when I gesture for him to head into our bedroom, he doesn’t argue. Creed hesitates, but without making a scene, there’s no getting out of it.
The three of us step inside our bedroom and I close the door. “Now, what is it you’re not saying. Why are you in so much pain?”
“It has something to do with the scars on your back, doesn’t it?” Doc says, his voice deep and graveled. “I know you don’t like to talk about them, but you gotta be straight with us.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will,” he says, “but if Keyla was in pain and wouldn’t tell us what hurt or why, you’d lose your mind, right? This is no different.”
Creed
Wildlings can smell the scent of a lie as well as the scent of my discomfort, so there’s no point in denying it. I’m not sure why I’m even reluctant to tell them. They are my mates. They have seen the scars. At some point soon they will realize I no longer have my wings.
I draw a deep breath and try to find the words to express my deepest humiliation. I walk deeper into our bedroom and lean against the footboard of our bed. “One of the first things Laryssa and the Blood Witch did to ensure I would remain their prisoner was to try to break me and ensure I could neither fight back nor fly away.”
Dillan’s bear is already growling.
“The witch blocked my powers, she cursed me with the beast, but the most damaging thing she did to me was slice off my faery wings.”
Dillan’s mental anguish is filled with hostility and anger. He confided in me once that he too has a physical deficiency due to violence beyond his control.
Keyla’s response, however, is heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, my prince.”
I sigh. “Sometimes they ache deep inside my back. There’s nothing to be done about it and I prefer not to talk about it. What is a faery without wings?”
“I can’t speak for all faeries,” Keyla says, “but in your case, he is a male of worth, a mate, a lover, a friend, and a strong leader. He is a king of men.”
Doc nods. “She’s right. What’s done is done. People don’t come out of wars unscathed. Sometimes the wounds are visible, sometimes not, but they all add to the person we move on to be.”
Keyla steps close and wraps her arms around my waist, laying her cheek on my chest. “Is there anything we can do to help with the pain?”
“There’s a bottle of pain linament in my cabinet that helps a lot. I’ve been too ashamed to talk about it, so haven’t asked if one of you might help me with it.”
Dillan strides around the bed and goes into the bathroom. “Blue bottle with a white lid?”
“That’s it.”
Our bear returns and Keyla eases back. With gentle care, she pops each button of my shirt free from its mooring and then steps back. “Take off your shirt and then lay on your stomach.”
I do as she says and a moment later, she climbs up onto the bed and straddles my ass. “Don’t keep things from us. We are your mates. There is nothing you can’t share—nothing we won’t understand and support you through. We love you.”
“One of the hardest parts of being a bear is realizing that no matter how big and strong you feel, there are some things you can’t handle on your own. Asking for help, whether it be for something physical or emotional, doesn’t make you weaker, it makes you stronger.”
I hear what he’s saying but when Keyla slicks her hands and kneads at the ache, nothing else registers.
The relief is exquisite.
After hours of agony to not have the pain is heaven. “This is how Rhylan and I started up back at the beginning of things. He smelled my pain and would come in at night to check on me. Eventually, I accepted his help.”
“And one thing led to another and eventually you accepted more of him than that,” Dillan says.
I chuckle. “I suppose that’s true.”
Keyla rubs over the scars and the sliced muscles, bone, and nerve-endings beneath my skin finally relent. “I will do this for as long and as you need and as often as you want, my love.”
I let out a long sigh of relief. “You better not offer yourself up for as long as I want. I may never let you leave this bed.”
She leans forward, sweeps my hair to one side, and brushes her lips against my neck. “Easing your suffering is my honor as your mate. Please don’t shut us out. Trust me with the bad in your life as well as the good.”
I glance over my shoulder at her and draw a deep, breath. “I trust you, Little Wolf. More than I thought possible.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rhylan
There’s a human realm saying, If you want change, you have to invite chaos. Having been Laryssa’s muscle for two years, I think the people of Dornte have suffered through enough chaos but I see the wisdom in those words.
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There’s another saying too, Be the change you wish to see in the world.
These two principles have kept me busy over the past week as we settle in and the quadrant adjusts to falling, once again, under Thornebane rule.
Creed and Keyla are doing everything right. They are leading Dornte through a transition from a troubled time with strength and compassion. The majority of citizens respect that and are hopeful for what is to come.
There are a great many powerful people who don’t.
One of the reasons Laryssa’s wave of power washed to shore with such strength was because she had money and corruption behind her. To cut off the head of the snake is not enough.
Weeding out the evils rooted and woven into the fabric of our society is necessary.
And as much as I despise it, I’m seen as part of Laryssa's camp. Most people can't tell Vik and me apart, so, with that in mind, I’ve been visiting some of the figureheads I know Laryssa dealt with.
This isn’t as over as Creed and Keyla hope it is.
I don’t want to be an alarmist, but Dornte has troubled times ahead. I don’t want to let our happiness cloud our vision of what might be coming at us. Normally, this would be handled by the Guardian of the Crown, which is Honor, but she’s still comatose.
“There you are,” Creed says, catching me coming out of the Dornte War Room.
I watch him stride down the corridor toward me, his long, silver hair flowing behind those broad shoulders and my breath tightens in my chest.
Too slecking hot.
“What are you doing down here?”
“I figured with Honor unable to resume her place at the helm of Dornte security right now, I’d keep an eye on things and assess the state of the quadrant in the aftermath of Laryssa’s removal from office.”
Creed nods. “And? Where do things stand?”
“Overall, we’re in good shape.”
“The citizens seem happy.”
I press my hand to the security screen and take him back inside to show him what I've been working on the past three days. Typing in my passcodes, I bring the wartable on line and call my research forward. “The majority of the citizens are, yes, but Laryssa had five primary supporters and more who supported her because she leveraged their self-interests. Simply because she’s gone, doesn’t mean their goals to rise to power within the quadrant will diminish.”
