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With a heavy heart, my commander had shoved me from the gates of the divine, tears in his eyes, our whole choir morose as they watched me fall. No one said a thing. No one expressed concern for me, but I knew in their heart of hearts, we all ached when separated.
Because I had been on the other side, once, watching a rebellious angel plummet, their wings on fire, their screams unleashing cataclysmic storms on mankind below.
We all chose our fate. Like Lucifer, we chose not to serve.
And my choices led me here, to them.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, emotion stinging the backs of my eyes, I braced on the doorframe and blocked them inside. Naked, human disguise gone, I stood before them now with golden eyes and black, unbreakable wings, with flesh only faintly marked by their passions and healing by the second.
“Sons of leviathans,” I started, tapping into the warrior who had bellowed across legions and kept back the hordes from worlds far beyond ours—far beyond theirs, too. “Sons of demons.” All three straightened, their cocks rising with them. Need twisted in my core, delving between my thighs like their tongues and fingers had so very recently. Enticing, the look of them, their arousal so plain, so obvious, so very much for me… But there was still much to do, and I needed to be sure before I turned my back on three powerful monsters. “Who do you serve?”
I tensed in the quiet that followed, almost too aware of the way their gazes raked my figure, taking in the golden undertone of my skin, the stronger limbs and brighter eyes.
Had I misjudged them?
A demon’s lie?
A trick?
Would I need to put them down just as I had—
“You,” Geralt rasped. Cato and Aedan snarled, the sound vicious, a wolf pack quarreling over a fresh kill—but their nods, their clenched fists, the way Geralt paced and Aedan rolled his shoulders and Cato bounced on the balls of his feet like he was gearing up for a full-on assault…
They meant it.
Me.
We came to Ether Island to free magpies and make their masters suffer. In theory, I also ought to punish the males who used them, not just the puppeteers. Yet these three brought me to such sublime highs, my orgasms tonight sharper and more vibrant than any I’d experienced since my fall, either by my own hands or at those of a subpar lover. Feeling wove around my rib cage, crafting my heart a cozy nest for the first time in my very long life. Kinship sparked between us, their eyes alight with chaos and darkness and possession.
For me.
A fallen angel of no real importance.
Me.
Before the fall, brute force and cold logic would have been my play. After all, these three were strong, their leviathan ancestry still warring with the demonic binding charms on their cuffs. Intelligent. Capable. An unbreakable team. Obsession. All that had merit.
But at the end of the day, I wanted them for myself.
Never in my life had I believed I could find love—nor did I deserve it.
But the lure between us was undeniable.
So, I took a risk.
I stepped into the cell, just over the threshold, and held out my hand to Cato. While they were bonded, there was still a hierarchy among them that deserved recognition. My crowned beast strode forth without hesitation, offering me his right hand.
And I snapped the golden cuff free, the break paired with a whoosh of red mist, the spell broken.
Next came the left cuff.
Then we waited.
Only when he eased back did I motion for Aedan to take his place. Off came the next two cuffs, followed by two more as Geralt loomed over me. Without their chains, life sparked in their eyes, the hues in their flesh richer, the spring in their step obvious. Such little, petty things, those ridiculous golden cuffs, but the spellwork and the runes had really fucked up my monsters, hadn’t they?
Well then.
Here we were, all our masks and chains dropped, and—
