Page 142 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

My hands tangle in Antony’s hair and I’m ready to pull him closer because damn, I would prefer to forget why I woke up in such a panic.

With determination, I press my hands to his shoulders. “Antony?”

He raises his head where his lips were inches from closing over my breast, the promise of pleasure sending heat into my already-wet core.

I manage to maintain the stern press of my lips, but only just.

“Okay.” Antony gives me a reluctant nod. Then, just as quietly, he says, “Stellen, you need to get down here.”

Footfalls sound on the stairs a moment later. Stellen is dressed, surprisingly, in Ember Fae clothing, but I guess it makes sense that he would want to blend in, especially if seen from a distance.

He carries a cup of fresh water, bringing it to me while I untangle myself from the blanket and Antony slides out from the other side of the bed. He’s also dressed in Ember warrior clothing, a fact I should have registered before now, but his kisses were a little distracting.

“Hydration first,” Stellen murmurs, although his lips curve as the blanket falls to my waist, leaving me naked when I reach for the water.

Antony folds his arms across his chest, taking up position at the entrance nearest to the base of the steps. “I’ll keep guard.”

I gulp down the water and hand the cup back to Stellen, but I don’t have a chance to speak before he says, “Bathing room.”

Setting the cup onto the floor, he hoists me over his shoulder, carrying me into the adjoining room before I can get my head straight.

“Pee. Then dress,” he says. “Then we can talk.”

I finally catch my breath, ready to tell him I can walk on my own, when his hand wraps across the back of one of my naked thighs, his fingers slip between my legs, and⁠—

I can’t stop my moan. Oh, the distractions.

A moment later, we pass into a third room located to the side of the bathing room.

Stellen’s wicked smile as he sets me back on my feet tells me he knows exactly the state in which he’s leaving me as he backs through the door.

“Take your time, Thyra.” His pale-as-snow eyes rake my form. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

My armor floats past him on its way to me, rearranging itself into a warrior’s suit, as if it were telling me to focus.

Message received.

I briefly consider the shelves of clothing on the left wall, noting that Antony’s armor has been pieced together and now rests on one of those shelves, and then the toilet cubicles on the right before I hurry to take care of myself.

When I return to the barracks room, I’m fully dressed, an inner layer of my armor hiding beneath an outer layer of what must be fire-resistant warrior’s clothing, judging by the unusual weave and weight of the material.

I combed my hair as best I could with my fingers but left it loose, seeking my yellow ribbon on the bathing-room floor.

Stellen waits for me at the entrance into the barracks, the ribbon laid across his palm. “May I?”

He must have cleaned the ribbon because it appears pristine.

“Please do,” I say.

Reaching for my hair, he carefully braids the ribbon into it, finishing by running his hand down the entire braid, but he doesn’t tug me closer to him.

Antony looms in the background. Both men are quiet.

“What did you see?” I ask.

“We saw a shadow,” Antony says. “Rising at your back.”

“We want to believe it was a trick of the light.” Stellen’s gaze becomes heated again. “Or a consequence of being consumed by you, Thyra.”