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I flinched, inhaling sharply when Cato marched right up to me, then dropped to his knees. There were those eyes again, so vibrant, so authoritative, boring deep into mine as I gently cupped his strong jawline and stroked against the grain of his scruffy cheeks. A smirk tugged at his gorgeous mouth, the shadows swelling within his crown, hiding the cropped silvery hair. Faster and faster they whirled, creating a miniature storm in there, lightning and all, his eyes suddenly pure black.
Beautiful.
“Cato—” I snapped my lips shut as he sank lower, skimming my thighs, the backs of my knees, my toned calves. Down, down, down he went, all the way to my feet.
Where he kissed the tops of both.
Still silent, the gesture bringing a tear to my eye at last, he stood and backed off, leaving room for Aedan to follow in his place, those antlers forcing him to lift my feet to him one at a time, his kisses paired with a snap of much sharper teeth around my ankles. Geralt came last again, but the other two never treated him as lesser. No, they watched on, almost in approval, as this mountain of a man kissed my feet, then my knees, then my thighs, then the crest of my womanhood.
When he rose to his full height, somehow he had grown taller. The others closed in, at least a foot gained each, my monsters snarling, heaving, changing in subtle shifts and slips right before my eyes. Power crackled around us, the air lit like live wire, the ends frayed, the current deadly.
“Burn this place to the ground,” I whispered hoarsely, gaze jumping from one male to the next, forced to tilt my head back just to match them. I then pressed a hand to Cato’s chest, Aedan’s, and then Geralt, really letting them feel my pulse over their hearts, allowing for a whiff of vulnerability on a night that was supposed to be all mischief and deception and blood.
They embraced my simple touch, huge hands sliding over mine, reaching for me as I retreated for the doorway again. Cato followed first, stiffening with a low growl when I grabbed his much-too-solid bicep.
“Fetch my magpies,” I urged, our eyes locked, our hearts whumping in perfect sync. “Not a feather out of place for my girls.” He acquiesced with a curt nod and a flash of teeth, the storm brewing within his horned black crown spiraling out of control. Then, just as he stalked forth, I gripped harder, our bodies brushing each other in the doorway, the heat palpable. “Free any prisoners you deem worthy of your mercy.”
“As you wish, goddess,” he rumbled, the declaration followed by a kiss that made my wings flutter and my heart soar. A steely arm snaked around my waist, and he crushed me to him, Cato’s kiss deep and passionate and so deliciously different from before. Domineering, yes, but dominance felt like his love language, not cruelty. He kissed me now like he recognized my strength, physical and otherwise, his teeth sharp and his tongue bold—like he knew I could take it.
And then he was gone, striding off and leaving my head in a tizzy, swiftly replaced by a snarling Aedan. He claimed me with a biting kiss and a sharp hair tug, his free hand grazing my wings unchecked, ruffling through the feathers, stroking the joint—taking the chance to meet me again. All the while, I gave as good as I got. He wanted a brat, a challenger, a lover who would hold his feet to the fire? So be it. I had craved that open acceptance for centuries.
From one end of the spectrum to another, Geralt took Aedan’s place in a heartbeat. My mountain monster scooped me off my feet, my wings twitching like they thought we needed to hover to keep up with him—but I sensed Geralt would never let me fall. Never. And if I did, he’d be right there with me, the fires devouring us, our screams pure laughter, hearts entwined and spirits so fucking alive.
For now, he offered a reprieve. Same as before, Geralt was a fleeting moment of tenderness. Even with the metallic tint in the air, blood streaked across my naked body, he kissed me in a way that was so achingly sweet it made my toes curl. In his arms, I could let go—just a little.
He set me back on my own two feet with such lovely care, smoothing my hair after Aedan’s abuse and swiping his thumb across my swollen lips with a smirk. Then, after pinching my chin and falling deep into my eyes, he marched after his brothers, shadows gathering, darkness clinging to his sculpted form. Flustered, I pressed a hand to my racing heart. How simple it would be to hurry after them—stop them in their tracks and demand they fuck me within an inch of my immortal life again.
Properly.
Like we had all the time in the world.
But the night wasn’t over, and my sisters in arms were no doubt accomplishing their tasks with flying colors.
So, I jogged after the trio, ending up in the middle, my wings tucked but ready to go on the defensive.
Ready to stretch in front of my monsters so those bullets back there—those would be the last painful bits to pierce their flesh tonight.
Down the corridor with all its windows facing the dark coastline, a door flew open. Guards charged out, weapons drawn, the shriek of a distant alarm yawning as the door opened and silenced when it slammed shut. Familiar faces glared at me as we slowed; most of this lot had processed a busload of frightened magpies earlier in the evening—and they’d hissed the foulest things in our ears. I cocked my head, daring them to make the first move.
They did.
They fired first, a hailstorm of bullets whizzing down the hallway. Without hesitation, I leapt in front of my monsters and gave the humans my back, black wings flared wide enough to cover the full width of the space, bullets ricocheting and thunking into the sandstone. I scowled at them over my shoulder, daring them to do their worst against a child of the divine.
Snarls and roars and terrifying howls surged, violent and sudden, and when I faced my monsters again, they flourished in their truest forms. Their leviathan ancestry clawed to the surface, shirking the glamored masks of breathtaking men with cut jawlines and sculpted pecs and sturdy shoulders made for raking with my nails.
Hellions from the deepest pits squared off with me. Cato’s crown circled a bare skull now, his eyes haunting and hollow, black and lifeless. A mist-shrouded cloak clung to his eight-foot frame, the darkness swallowing him right up to the open nasal cavity. To his left, Aedan proved himself the most beastly of his brothers, looming so tall he had to duck to accommodate his flesh-strewn antlers. With the skeletal head of a wolf and the body of an old-world centaur, he’d give any unlikely survivors of his wrath nightmares for the rest of their short, miserable lives.
Geralt had lost every ounce of tenderness. Blades a little over a foot long, sharpened to deadly points, made up his fingers. Red eyes glowered from beneath his shadowy cowl, his exquisite nudity swapped for an assassin’s black armor and hood, those boots made for crushing skulls. He too needed to duck to fit in the corridor, crouched low, his hands deadlier weapons than before, his aura pure predator.
“My, my,” I whispered as another round of bullets bounced off my wings. “You three clean up well.”
They answered with a primal chorus of savage snarls and gravelly growls, eyeing me like I was a prize gifted by the gods—like they wanted to eat me, fuck me, love me until the end of time.
And after tonight, I was rather inclined to let them.
With a manic grin, I turned on our attackers and charged, the monstrous symphony at my heels accented by Aedan’s hooves thundering over the stone, Geralt’s daggers dragging along the wall, Cato’s well-deserved crown a beacon of strength in the night…
And a delicious dose of love, laughter, screams, blood, and gunfire in the air.
THE END
