by Megan Derr
Kallaar rose slightly, looking immensely pleased with himself as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glittering as he stared at her—then slapped the altar with both hands, his head falling as he moaned. “Ahmla—”
“So tight, it’s been too long since I’ve split you open, Kali,” Ahmla murmured, and Shanna and Kallaar both groaned.
Oh, to have a proper bed where she could see them better, see every ripple and thrust. But she’d settle for seeing their faces as Ahmla finished preparing Kallaar, spread him open, and thrust inside with one smooth motion, shoving fingers into Kallaar’s mouth to keep his scream muffled. Shanna rolled forward, pulled the fingers free, and took Kallaar’s mouth, swallowing every groan and plea as Ahmla fucked him.
She rose to lean over him and took a wet, hungry, and sloppy kiss from Ahmla before drawing back to enjoy the view. Kallaar shifted to wrap his arms around her, pushed hard against her as Ahmla fucked him. Shanna held him, running hands over his sweaty skin, eyes moving from Ahmla’s hot, hungry expression to the point where his cock sank into Kallaar’s body over and over. In her arms, Kallaar trembled and whimpered. “Ahmi—”
Ahmla just laughed and thrust a few more times, rhythm lost to desperate need, and he bent over Kallaar to take a kiss himself as his climax washed over him.
Kallaar whined as they untangled. “Ahmi, now can I come?”
“How do you want it?”
“I don’t care—”
“Fuck me,” Shanna said, moving back to give him room. That got her two pleased looks, and Kallaar wasted no time climbing up to join her, fingers exploring where his tongue had only recently been, where she was wet and aching all over again.
A sweaty body pressed up behind, cradling and caging her against Ahmla. How all three of them managed to fit, she didn’t know, but she also didn’t care as Kallaar spread and lifted her legs and thrust inside. Ahmla’s hand muffled Shanna’s shout, though her noises were only encouraged by the way he touched her while Kallaar fucked her hard and deep and fast.
It didn’t last long. She screamed again into Ahmla’s hands, clinging to his arm with one hand, the other holding Kallaar, who kissed Ahmla as he came.
Her body finally made its protests known as they untangled again. Worse, her mind was already demanding she resume paying attention to all the thoughts and worries she’d decided to ignore the moment lust had stirred. A heavy silence had fallen, and Shanna slid awkwardly from the altar to locate her clothes.
She cried out as Ahmla grabbed and yanked her back. Twisting her head, she glared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Are you regretting what we did?”
Shanna shook her head. Her entire body ached from the altar and odd angles; she could feel Kallaar’s come between her thighs, and a thousand emotions were wreaking havoc on her thoughts, but none of them were regret. “No. I’m just…not certain what is going on anymore.”
Ahmla let her go.
“Ugh, do you have to put on that awful robe?” Kallaar wrinkled his nose as she picked it up.
“I’m not walking through the monastery naked or only in my undergarments.”
Kallaar’s scowl turned into a grin. “I suppose the abbot would frown on that.”
Mouth twitching, Shanna pulled on her robe and underwear. The corset she gave to Ahmla, who bundled it up with their cloaks and other outdoor wear. The rough wool of the robe rubbed against her breasts, reminding her of the scrape of facial hair and nipping teeth. Forcing those thoughts aside, she said, “Come on, we should talk properly, and it would be best to do that in my chambers. I should make certain Penli is settled first, though.”
“Penli can take care of himself,” Ahmla said. “Indeed, he’s proven to be quite the force to be reckoned with. I think your stepfather will live to regret all he’s done to Penli.”
“Yes, he will,” Shanna said, anger sparking anew as she remembered Penli’s screams. How heartless and uncaring her stepfather had been. “Come on, let’s go talk—and eat. I’m sure you’re both starving.”
“Ravenous,” Kallaar said, the mischief back in his eyes.
Ahmla cuffed him lightly and then they were in the hallway and his easy demeanor slid away to be replaced by the more familiar one of implacable, subservient bodyguard.
Questions and fears and wary hope spinning through her mind, Shanna led the way to her rooms. She wasn’t surprised to see that food for three was already waiting, though her face burned as she wondered what else the monks had deduced—not that anyone passing by that prayer room would have needed to deduce anything. “Oh, mercy alive, I cannot believe we did that on an altar.”
“Please,” Kallaar said, “Ahmi and I have done much worse in far more sacred places. Also important places that were not holy. There was this one—”
“Enough, you can tell stories of our poor judgment and timing later,” Ahmla said. He strode to a pile of bags Shanna hadn’t noticed until then. “Right now, I want to be clean and warm and full. So let us focus on that, and then we will all finally have a conversation we should have had a long time ago.”
Kallaar grumbled but obeyed, catching the clothes Ahmla tossed him. Shanna slipped into her bedroom to clean up and dress in clothes vastly more pleasant than the scratchy robe.
But when she was finally dressed, fear overrode everything else. What was happening? Why had she been so reckless and foolish moments ago? Why did she desperately want to be that foolish again and again and again?
Running away only solved so many problems, though, so Shanna set her shoulders, lifted her chin, and went to face the men waiting for her.
Chapter Seven
The men sat, not at the table as she’d expected, but on the soft fur rug in front of the fireplace. They’d commandeered the low table that had been in front of the sofa, as well as the sofa pillows. A little odd, but she remembered reading about the practice when she was being tutored in their language and culture. They were speaking softly in Morentian, heads bent toward each other, the demeanors of prince and bodyguard once more fallen away, dynamics reversed. If she had thought Kallaar happy on previous occasions, seeing him so open and unhindered in private was something else entirely. Ahmla was equally breathtaking, animated and vivid, instead of quiet and shadowy.
Kallaar broke off and beamed. “There is our fine queen!”
She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I am not actually a queen yet, you know.”
He scoffed. “A technicality and an inevitability. Come, sit and eat, unless you are not as hungry as we are?”
“Probably not that hungry, but certainly I could do with food.” Shanna sat on the pillow he indicated, putting her next to Ahmla and directly across from Kallaar. She started when first one and then the other kissed her. She could get entirely too used to that.
Forcing her mind back to the less pleasant matter of the conversation, she took a bracing sip of spiced wine and then said, “So what did you mean earlier in the prayer room about being informally betrothed to me?”
Kallaar handed her a packet of papers—a betrothal contract.
She flipped to the last page and saw her mother’s signature and the Rilien royal seal alongside that of Kallaar's mother and Morentia’s seal. Flipping back to the beginning, she skimmed through the contract. As he’d said, since the age of five, he had been betrothed to her, though at the time she would have been only weeks old. “You’re five years older than me?” He looked younger, even acted younger in some ways.
“No one ever believes me when I state my age,” he said, unabashed and even delighted. “Yes, I am twenty-seven as of three months ago.” He waggled his brows. “Ahmla is thirty-two.”
Shanna groaned. “I had not realized I was such a child, comparatively speaking.”
Ahmla drained his wine and poured them all more. “A child? Hardly. You were far too talented on that altar to be a child.”
Face burning, Shanna shot him a quelling look before taking several fortifyi
ng gulps of wine. When both men had stopped laughing, she looked again at the contract. “I don’t understand why you were forced into a betrothal with a mere babe. Especially since, in my kingdom, the queen-in-waiting, or king on rare occasions, chooses their own spouse.”
Kallaar grinned a touch sheepishly as Ahmla laughed and laughed.
“What?”
Ahmla replied, “He wasn’t forced into anything. He was supposed to be in his nursery. Your mother had been negotiating the betrothal, it’s true. Morentia is often overlooked because we are quiet and do not push or display the power we do have. Your mother recognized that, and rather than trying to destroy it or take it, she wanted to build an alliance between two small, but strong, kingdoms and forge something that could stand against the larger kingdoms always trying to overtake us both. But as you say, a betrothal would violate the law. So it was informal and secret, and a year or two before your formal courtship, your mother was going to tell you everything and have you meet two of Kallaar’s siblings to see if either suited.
“But one day, little Kallaar had snuck into his mother’s meeting room to hide from his nurse and play with his toys in peace. When he heard talk about marrying a grand princess, he burst out of hiding and insisted he be the one to marry her. He was at first ignored but did not drop the matter for months. And so, Their Majesties relented and made him your betrothed.”
“I’ve been training for the position my whole life. That is one of the reasons we travel so much: to learn the world, build relationships that will be useful to you and your kingdom in the future. The other reason was, of course, to get to know you as best we could without drawing your stepfather’s attention.” Kallaar’s skin flushed, but he met her gaze and looked the very definition of pleased and excited—if also nervous.
Shanna’s eyes stung. “I don’t understand. Why would you…and why didn’t you tell me all this when you revealed your true identity? Why wait until now?”
He looked away then, staring at the table, fingers moving restlessly over his cup and plate and silverware.
Shanna’s heart plummeted. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No!” Kallaar said, eyes returning to her. “If I had changed my mind, I never would have behaved the way I did in the garden. And we certainly would not have done what we did in the prayer room. No, I just…I didn’t want to say, ‘Our parents betrothed us while you were in the cradle, so you’re stuck with me as your future consort, unless you want to destroy the alliance our parents forged.’ You already have so much on your shoulders…so many choices have been taken from you…” He looked down again. “I wanted you to pick me, pick us, and not feel like we were forced upon you.”
“Oh.” Shanna’s heart lifted, pounding like festival drums. She looked at Kallaar and then Ahmla and then her wine. “I did not know anyone else was inclined toward such things. Being three, I mean, instead of two. Penli never judges, but I know most people would consider my desires strange. It was too much to hope…”
She startled as hands covered hers, one long and slender, the other large and rough. Dragging her gaze up, she swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “I saw you in the hallway, and it seemed like there was no room or need for me, and I really had been stupid to think I was anything but a duty to discharge.”
“Certainly not,” Ahmla murmured and nuzzled behind her ear. “Kallaar has been determined to be the faithful and devoted consort of his queen for nearly as long as he has been alive. We’ve received many reports and sketches and paintings of you in the years before Kallaar was old enough to travel, as his father kept discreet watch while trying not to endanger you further by interfering. We have always wanted to be honest, about who we are and what we hope for, but we couldn’t until the courtship gave us inarguable reason to be here.”
Shanna shivered, despite the seriousness of the conversation. “I don’t understand why you would be so determined to marry someone you do not know—why the two of you would want to take as an additional lover someone you do not know. We’ve interacted over the years, but only intermittently.”
“And yet with every encounter we only wanted the next one to come sooner, faster. You’re smart, sweet, and kind,” Kallaar said.
“Tenacious, stubborn, determined,” Ahmla added. “And of course beautiful goes without saying.”
Kallaar grinned. “Never hurts to say it anyway, and you are breathtakingly beautiful, my queen.”
“If you keep flattering me, I’m going to get used to it, and your charms will cease to have any effect.”
“Ha! My mother has said the same thing a thousand times and yet I still get away with more than all of my siblings combined,” Kallaar said—then yelped as Ahmla lightly cuffed him. “Ahmi!”
“I am immune to your charms,” Ahmla replied. “So stop trying to use them on me.”
Kallaar pouted, and Shanna laughed, but she couldn’t help but add, “You two seem so close, and perfect together, I don’t see why you would feel compelled to add me.”
“I am trained to serve a queen, and Ahmi is trained to serve me and whomever I take as spouse,” Kallaar said. “Even if Ahmi is the bossiest person I know. We aren’t adding you; we are simply done waiting for you.”
Shanna’s heart gave a lurch, eyes stinging.
Kallaar’s eyes gleamed, hot and happy. Ahmla was more contained, but looked no less pleased for all that. “Did you ever doubt you would—and should—be queen?” Kallaar asked.
“All the time,” Shanna murmured and drank more wine.
Kallaar pushed away his own meal. “It was no different than us. We were plagued by doubts many times. It is hard to be certain of something when you must wait so many years to find out if it’s truly what you should be doing, if you have spent years preparing for something you are fit for, or have wasted all those years on something that makes you and countless others miserable. But we had faith, and every stolen moment with you through the years has strengthened that faith. I am sorry only that we messed it up so horribly at the end.”
“I should have asked you, instead of assuming.”
“You had every reason to doubt us,” Ahmla replied. “I know the feeling, to some degree. It was no easy matter to trust I was making the right choice as a boy of fifteen to devote my life to a boy of ten. But it felt right, and always has, whatever doubts chased me and challenges impeded me. It was even more disconcerting to realize that I loved Kallaar in a way a protector shouldn’t, for it can cloud judgment.”
“But we’re stronger together than we ever were apart,” Kallaar said.
“Especially when you do as I say,” Ahmla added, withdrawing only slightly from Shanna to cast Kallaar an admonishing look. “If you’d been honest about the whole of the matter, as I wanted you to be, we might have avoided all of this.”
“Or Penli might be dead and you both broken beyond repair,” Shanna said. “Everything has worked out in the end, barring the fact I cannot return home until I am of age.”
Kallaar made a face. “An excellent, if unfortunate, point.”
“I wish you would just let us kill him,” Ahmla said and finished his wine.
“That would cause more problems than it solved,” Shanna said. “Especially since I am not yet of age to take the throne. The council would have to rule in my stead, or they’d push me to marry an older, wiser consort and appoint him ruler until I was of age. My stepfather is abhorrent, but none of his replacements would be better—they might even be worse, given they’re not trained to rule the way Mercen is. Never mind what an investigation into the assassination would turn up. No, for all that I wish I had not been driven to such desperate straits, it’s for the best I am in hiding.”
“Yes, but you cannot remain here. You must come home with us, as we originally planned,” Kallaar said. “Once Penli told us what you had done, we were more determined than ever to take you to Morentia. Penli, too, of course, though I do not think our staid court will know what to do with such a vibrant flow
er as that.”
“‘Flower’ isn’t a good thing to call him here,” Shanna replied. “I can see you mean it as a compliment, but so you know, he is often called a flower by the rest of the court and they do not mean it kindly.”
Kallaar seemed to wilt. “I see. My apologies. I promise, back home it is a compliment. He is eccentric, by our standards, but many would admire him. Most importantly, he is your friend, which means I have only compliments for him, I assure.”
Shanna braced her hands on the table and leaned over it to kiss him hard. “If you were looking to please me, pretty prince, speaking well of my dearest friend is the best way to do it.”
He smiled, all mischief and pleasure, and wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger before offering another kiss, long and sweet and leaving her aching. “Well, I will happily speak well of him all day, every day, if it pleases my beloved queen.” He winked. “Though, I would rather speak of you.”
“I suppose that would also be acceptable,” Shanna said, lifting her chin, mouth twitching. Calloused fingers brushed back her hair, and a nose traced the line of her throat soft as a butterfly’s touch before being replaced by a hot, wet mouth.
Kallaar’s amused expression turned sharp and hungry. “I believe Ahmla has decided there has been enough talking. I do not like to argue when he has decided it for himself, though there is a final detail to address, I think.”
Ahmla’s chuckles were warm against Shanna’s kiss-damp skin. He withdrew, and it took everything she had not to pout. He rested his right hand on the table, where Shanna could not miss the gold ring set with three rectangular jewels arranged in a column: a ruby, an emerald, and a yellow diamond.
The same ring was on Kallaar’s middle finger as he held out his right hand. “Red is the color of the order to which Ahmi belongs, a sacred order to which all who agree to be lifesworn belong. The Order of the Heart of Eternal Life, it’s called. Emerald is the color we’ve always associated with your kingdom, because it is so beautifully green. Yellow diamonds are the stone of the royal family, and only we and those to whom we grant permission are allowed to wear them.”
