Together.
All I can feel is them. Their cocks inside me, throbbing against each other as they stretch and fill me. Their eyes on me, Quinn looking up at me in fervent adoration and Aamon behind me, dutifully watching over me. Quinn’s hand glides up the side of me, exploring his newfound freedom and hooking under the clasp of my bra. He releases the hook in one motion, freeingmy breasts before him.
He leans up, kissing and licking until he clamps down on my nipple. I bite my lip, my eyes fluttering closed as a moan builds in my throat. I try to process everything that is being done to me, but my mind can't even begin to comprehend all of it at once. The overwhelming sensation. So much ofthem. All at once, all around me. Whatever this is, stronger and hungrier than before, is reaching a fever pitch, and I’m barely capable of holding on as I plummet into the unknown.
Quinn roars beneath me, his body tensing as his hips lift off the bed to empty himself into me. Aamon mimics the motion, pulling me back against him and letting loose a low, husky growl. And for a moment in time, I am no longer Evangeline, daughter of the High Quarter Alpha. Tarnished member of the Watchers and banished abomination. I am the fallen angel, caught by the Arcane-touched and held firmly in their fold. And I couldn’t imagine any place, anyone, I’d rather be.
Iwait in the common space for what feels like an eternity. Some part of me thinks if something happens they will come tell me. But I know I’ve removed myself entirely from this situation, and I’m most likely not even remotely on their radar anymore. When I get too antsy to stand here waiting like a fool any longer, I storm off to my bedroom.
I slam the door closed, pacing the short length of the hardwood floor as I run a hand through my cropped hair. It’s not the girl I’m worried about. I did what I could and gave them the supplies they needed to fix her. Not that I’d care either way. If they let her die now, it’s on them.
But I saw Sterling. Couldn’t help but note the panic in his eyes and the tremors in his hands. He’s slipping back into a dark place. All because of this fucking girl. And it's taking everything in me to not try and fix it. To let him walkaway and go back to his female’s side. Instead of demand he submit beneath my touch while I beat those dark thoughts from his mind.
I need a fucking cigarette.
I shove the chair at my desk backwards in desperate need, digging through the top of the desk for a spare pack of smokes, before moving onto the drawers. I get more aggravated the longer it takes me to find them, and before I know it, I’m ripping a drawer from the desk and dumping the contents out on the top.
I exhale roughly as I find the pack I’m looking for, tossing the empty drawer to the side and plucking a cigarette from it. I light it immediately, inhaling the smoke and letting the tobacco and nicotine seep into me, possessing me fully as my eyes flutter closed.
“Am I interrupting something?” A hesitant voice calls from the doorway. I whip around to find Sterling standing there like a hurt puppy. His eyes are downcast, cutting tentative glances up at me through lowered lashes. His usually tawny skin is drained of color and he’s wringing his hands in front of him in an effort to stop the shaking.
“What do you want?” I say. But the words come out too hard, full of bitter irritation at the sight of how much she’s gotten to him.
He flinches, taking a step back.
Itake a drag off the cigarette, letting the hit settle my nerves before I speak again. “I’m sorry, Sterling. Please, come in.”
He crumbles as he steps into the room once more, shaking his hands out as he paces nervously. I slide past the path he’s wearing into the floor to close the door behind him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, leaning against the closed door and bringing the cigarette to my mouth. He doesn’t answer, just continues to pace and mutter to himself. “Sterling,” I growl, the only warning he will get to not ignore me.
He falls apart, tears streaming down his face as he drops onto the bed. “I don’t know, Zeke. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t—I don’t—” He sucks down shallow, hollow breaths.
“Sterling,” I snap. “Where are my eyes?”
His gaze finds mine immediately and his breathing regulates the smallest bit.
“She was so pale, Ezekiel. So close to death, I thought—” A sob cuts through his words. He shakes his head. “I can’t get the image of it out of my mind, can’t help thinking what would have happened if we’d lost her.”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. As if the entire world revolves around one female’s existence. “But she’s not, right? She’s good now?” I ask. I know she is, or he would be even more of a mess than this.
“Yes.” Sterling nods. “No thanks to me,” he adds under his breath. He drops his head into his hands again, tryingto cover the emotion wrought in his features as more tears stain his cheeks. His voice is near silent, weak and desperate when he speaks again. “Help me.”
I narrow my eyes on him, my jaw feathering from the force with which I’m clenching it. Because I know he wouldn’t use those words unless it was really that bad. Unless he felt mere heartbeats away from coming apart completely. “Sterling,” I call out in a deep rumble, letting every bit of my power seep into my words. “Do me a favor.”
He looks up at me, brows furrowed as he wipes away his tears. I pluck the cigarette out of my mouth and use it to point towards the desk drawer discarded on the floor. “Go get that drawer and put it back in my desk.”
He follows where I point, looking back at me with an air of confusion. But he obeys, rising slowly from the bed and scooping up the drawer. He slides it back in place on its tracks, sorting through the items on the top of the desk and putting things away. Once the mess is cleaned up, he slides the drawer closed and turns around to face me.
“Good. Now go in the next drawer and grab that little burlap bag that’s in there.”
Again, Sterling’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t argue. He turns back to the desk, rooting around in the lower drawer till he pulls out the sack.
I’d forgotten I’d even had such a thing. It was a gift from Laurel last Esbat, a mixture of rice and herbs and small crystal chips that she said was meant to bring good fortune. If Ihadn’t just torn my desk apart, I probably wouldn’t have even remembered I had it.
He holds it up for me to see, as if to make sure it’s the right thing. I sit down on the side of the bed, nodding and gesturing for him to join me. He makes his way through the room, moving to sit next to me. But I catch his wrist, shaking my head slowly as he looks down at me.
“Not here,” I chide. I gesture down to the spot on the floor just before me. “Open that bag and dump its contents on the floor.”
