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“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his wings casting dancing shadows on the walls as we rocked together.

The poor bed protested beneath us, the metal frame creaking alarmingly. I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the delicious drag of Zee inside me, the way his tail wrapped around my thigh, the smooth heat of his skin against mine.

The energy built differently with him—faster, hotter, more volatile. His demon essence pulled at my dragon power like a magnetic force, drawing it out in waves that made his wings glow brighter and hotter.

Victor watched us with lidded eyes, his hand idly stroking himself back to hardness. The sight of him—satisfied yet aroused again—pushed me closer to the edge.

Zee reached around to grasp my dick, stroking in time with his thrusts. “Come for me,” he demanded. “Want to feel you come apart while I’m inside you.”

The power surged between us, building once more. Maybe it was because of where we were, or all the things that had happened, but this was so much more than before. When the pleasure crested, reaching the edge, it became so intense that the remaining lights in the room burst, plunging us into darkness lit only by Zee’s sparkling wings.

I came with an inhuman growl, my body clenching around Zee as pleasure ripped through me. He followed a moment later, his wings flaring brighter as he buried himself deep.

The surge of power was different than with Victor—wilder, more primal. Where Victor had drawn my power with precision, Zee pulled it from me in a rush, his entire body illuminated from within as my energy merged with his.

Spent, we collapsed in a tangle of slick limbs. Zee’s skin practically hummed with new power.

“Holy shit,” Zee breathed, his voice deeper than before, resonating with new power. “I am broken in the best way.”

“Did it work?” I panted. “Do you feel stronger?”

“Like I could make this whole fucking prison come with a snap of my fingers,” Zee said, pulling me into position as the little spoon to his big spoon. “I doubt even the wards could stop me.”

Victor sprawled in front of us, smirking around his fangs. “My consciousness feels . . . expanded. I believe I should be able to extend my influence considerably farther than before.”

I looked between them, these two beings I loved more than anything. Maybe we really could do this. “I love you guys.”

A sharp knock at the door broke the post-sex spell. The guard signaled we had ten minutes to get dressed.

Zee squeezed my hand. “Whatever happens, Kitten. We do this together.”

“Indeed. Together,” Victor vowed. “To the end.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Together. Always.”

Reluctantly and quietly we parted, cleaned up, and got dressed. Nobody had much to say, and instead we basked in the afterglow.

“I find myself in the peculiar position of trusting Tom Collins,” Victor said, straightening his jumpsuit. “But I do believe our rogue bartender will not let us down.”

The knock came again. “If you don’t come out in one minute, I’m coming in.”

I kissed them both, quick and fast. “I know he won’t.” We locked gazes, all three of us, then after a synchronized nod, we left the cabin.

* * *

Not even an hour had passed since I’d returned from the conjugal visit when the guard was back again. “You got a visitor.”

“Now?” It was long past visiting hours.

“Guess your guest has a special pass.”

Zander watched me leave with concerned puppy-dog eyes. “It’s fine,” I told him, then frowned when the guard slammed the door shut between us.

He really did not deserve to be here. If we got out—when we got out—I’d make it up to him.

A few of the Lost Ones in our neighboring cells watched me pass by. There was Percy, the recovering alcoholic unicorn shifter. He’d gotten violent in New York traffic and shifted, raging at people on the Brooklyn Bridge. A raging unicorn is not a pretty sight. A few people had jumped. They hadn’t survived. He’d gotten the blame.

We passed by the aviary, where they kept the pixies that made Little Jimmy with his sass and murder vibes look like a cute Disney fairy.