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“And how close are all of you? Friends? Traveling companions? Family?”
“Family!” Niles beams, then looks at Marilynn. “She’s a little new to our group, but fitting right in!”
Should we be telling them this? I don’t know. I can’t think past the sugar, the hot bread, the chunky soup.
“And do you plan on being in their family for long, Marilynn?” Maxwell says after he swallows a spoonful of soup.
“I do. One day I am destined to—” Marilynn slaps her hand over her red lips, staring at us in shock, like she’s just figured something out.
“To what, dear?”
Her pale cheeks bloom with color. And it’s as fast as the time I take to blink. Marilynn throws herself forward, slamming her forehead down on the iron table over and over again.
I scream through the delirious haze.
Niles jumps to his feet, being choked back down by his collar. Warrose and I turn to Dessin and Skylenna, looking to them for a reaction, for an appropriate response. Dessin continues eating without so much as a concerned glance. Skylenna stares vacantly at her plate, eyes glazed over.
“What the fuck is going on?” Warrose barks.
Marilynn’s face flops into her plate of food as she falls unconscious. A sharp pang of warning slams into my gut. Something’s wrong. Something’s not right.
“Ignore her,” a brother coos. “It’s just us now.”
But adrenaline zings under my skin, begging for me to move, to run.
“Eat. The food is still hot.”
I respond like my mind is made of putty. Forks clank against plates. And I’m suddenly filled to the brim with pleasure radiating through every nerve after each bite.
“So, family, hmm? These are your brothers, Ruth?”
Family. Brothers. Are they?
“No,” I answer as I lick my spoon. So good. So good. My tongue tingles. My low belly burns. “Warrose is not my brother.”
“Oh?”
I fist my hands into a heap of more food, getting sweet potatoes all over my fingers. I run my tongue along my knuckles. So sweet. So tasty. But how many calories? Will I see this as new layers of fat on my hips? Along my ribs?
“He’s not my brother,” I reiterate.
“What is he?”
“I don’t know.”
I can sense Warrose eating slower, listening to my words through his own captivating indulgence.
“Why don’t you know? I thought you said you all were family.” Malcolm pushes with gentle patience.
“I want to suck his cock.” The sentence falls from my lips without any thought. And now that I’m really thinking about it, my mouth is watering for another reason, my inner walls are clenching around air.
Warrose looks up from his food, his stare burning into me like molten lava. It warms my center, licking between my legs.
“I see.” Someone chuckles from the other end of the table. “You could take a small break from eating, Ruth.”
What does he mean?
I can’t look away from those glittering hazel eyes. They’re the glass on the seafloor, green and blue, unearthing my secrets and arousal.
