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“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Alistair suggests, a command wrapped in velvet. He doesn’t wait for my response, leading the way to my room with the certainty of someone who knows they won’t be refused.
Charlie throws an arm around my shoulders, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s leave the drama for the stage, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
My room is a sanctuary, or at least it used to be. Now, as I cross the threshold, it feels different—like it’s no longer just mine. I head straight for the bathroom, stripping away the layers of my coronation gown as if they’re the last remnants of my old life.
I splash cold water on my cheeks, needing to cool down.
As the water drips down my chin, I lock eyes with my reflection. Ever, the outsider. Ever, the legacy girl. Ever, the one who thought she could play this dangerous game without getting burned.
“Burn me,” I murmur and glance at my wrist, where the brand is still red and angry.
Charlie steps closer, his gorgeous, ever-changing eyes locked on mine, and it’s like he sees right through the walls I’ve built.
I don’t move, can’t move, even if I wanted to. His hands come up to my head, fingers sliding under the crown of thorns that’s been digging into my scalp since the coronation. It’s a relief when he lifts it off, and I exhale slowly.
He sets the crown aside and wraps his arms around me. I lean into him, my body moulding to his like two pieces of a puzzle that fit just right. There’s comfort in his embrace, a sense of safety that I’ve craved for so long. But it’s more than that—it’s desire, too, a burning need that makes my blood sing.
I let out a sob, not even knowing what I’m crying for anymore.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispers against my hair.
After a moment that stretches into eternity, he takes my hand and leads me toward the bed, sinking down onto the soft covers. We lie side by side, our bodies touching, a silent conversation flowing between us.
“Charlie, I love you,” I say, the words spilling out of me like a confession. “With all that I am, with everything I’ve got, I love you.”
His eyes darken to a shade I’ve never seen before, and it tells me all I need to know about how those words affect him. He pulls me closer, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
Damien joins us. Without a word, he slips onto the bed, already naked, his cool fingertips tracing the curve of my spine. Charlie shifts beside me to make room, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches Damien claim his space.
The brush of skin on skin, the whisper of breath against my neck, pulls me under his thrall. Alistair, Duke of KnightsGate, doesn’t bother to hide his intentions; they’re written clearly in his possessive blue stare as he joins us without a word.
His hands roam over my body with an ownership that sends shivers down my spine. It’s terrifying how much I crave his touch.
Ben is the last to climb onto the den of heaven with us.
We come together, a tangle of limbs and whispered promises. Hands roam, lips seek, and the heat between us builds to an inferno.
Damien presses his blade to the skin under my breasts, and he follows the curve of them, slicing me open before licking away the blood.
I gasp at the sensation, the pain mingling with pleasure in a way that feels both shocking and right. It’s a reminder of who we are and what we’ve become—a darkly bound unit forged through obsession, love, and something more dangerous.
The taste of blood on Damien’s lips is intoxicating as he kisses me, and I kiss him back fiercely, accepting every part of this unapologetic dance with darkness we’ve chosen to embrace.
He presses the knife into my hand and murmurs, “Please.”
Blinking as I take in what he wants me to do, I grasp the handle tightly with a nod. He lies back, and I straddle him, my pussy over his rock-hard cock.
I press the top of the knife to his chest. His breath catches, and the room goes still. A thrill courses through me, this power, this trust—it’s heady and overwhelming.
“I love you, my perfect darkness.” I slide the blade over his skin, watching as a thin line of crimson appears. He doesn’t flinch; he only stares up at me with absolute surrender in his gaze. I lean down to follow the trail with my tongue, the metallic taste mingling with the salt of his skin.
“Ever,” he breathes out, his hands finding my hips and bringing me closer to him. “Fucking beautiful.”
Smiling against his chest, knowing I’m now their equal in this twisted game we play.
Alistair moves beside me, his hand on the back of my neck, pressing me forward into a kiss that steals my breath away. His lips are hungry and demanding, but there’s a reverence in his touch that makes my heart swell.
