Page 87 of Failed State

Unexpected—not upsetting, but definitely not the topic I thought the bear would broach.

“I’m up for almost anything,” I say with a shrug. Sitting back on my heels, I fiddle with the linens next to me before I continue. “I’d prefer not to get too close to my past in terms of the pain threshold, but otherwise? I’m good with top, bottom, sub, Dom, most equipment, men, women… Virtue of my experiences, I suppose.”

“No.”

I turn my head to frown at the vampire. “No, what, Whitmore?”

He sighs heavily, as if I’m being the most trying person he’s ever met. “No, you will not simply accept things because you’re ‘okay’ with it in this situation, Stormbringer. That would not please Sydney, nor am I happy with it. I’m not one of the vampires who uses our powers to manipulate people in the bedroom, nor am I one to allow past damage to do the same here. You will tell us what you actually want and like, not just what you’re allowing.”

“Yes,” the dragon says as he turns to the fridge to pull out the refreshments. “The bloodsucker is correct. We will explore anything the participants are happy to experience, but no one does things to simply make someone else happy. I believe there is much curiosity among this group and many things we can mutually enjoy without sullying it that way.”

When this guy talks, he really fucking goes all in.

“Okay. I get it.” I rub the back of my neck, my face heating in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. “So… to be honest? I prefer submission. I like a soft Dom, and I’m definitely pansexual. I don’t want intense pain. I enjoy biting, I like marks, and I’m not shy about what makes me hard once clothes are off. Is that better?”

They all stare at me, and I grin to myself. I’m very experienced in discussing limits with people—hazard of the previous job—and though I blushed a bit unexpectedly, I’m notuncomfortable doing so. They’re all hot guys and I’m slowly finding myself enjoying their company. I could definitely see us all in a group with Sydney and each other—and it makes my dick hard. I don’t know how willing the rest of them are, and that’s part of why I started this chat.

Sebastian clears his throat. “Well, that was very helpful. My kind likes a bit more pain than him, obviously, but most of his statements are true—except I am certainly dominant and not submissive. I will not be silent about what I am comfortable or not comfortable with as we explore.”

“Gentleman, you know I’m your Huckleberry,” the demon says with a chuckle at his own reference. “In so many ways, because I’m very versatile and even more vocal.”

I have to suppress the urge to rub my hands together in glee. This is even better than I hoped and the more our family is open to, the easier it will be for us to form a tight-knit, unbreakable unit. That’s not me being manipulative; it’s just a fact. Plus, I don’t know that any of us have had a support system like that in a long time—or ever. It will strengthen us and become more stable for the danger ahead.

“I, um, don’t know much about all that stuff,” the bear says as he stacks more cushions industriously. “But I’m interested in finding things out.”

My lips curve up as I look at the biggest dude in the room. “What about you, big guy? Where do you fall on the scale?”

“Wherever I want, mage. But not on the bottom, nor as a submissive. Perhaps it’s from growing up royal or maybe my dragon, but I need control. Anything else is up for grabs.”

Smack my ass and call me a bad boy—I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect group if I tried.

I WANT THE ENTIRE BUFFET

SYDNEY

Licking my lips nervously,I stare at the bathroom door. I know once I open it, things will change somehow. I’m not surewhyI feel that way, but the notion has settled deeply in my guts as I soaked away the aches from earlier. My mind is arguing with my heart and body—something that hasn’t happened in the past. I don’t know if that’s healing or just a natural progression of aging that I’d fobbed off for the past four years. Either way, it’s unsettling and a lot like standing at the edge of a cliff to look down.

I’m terrified of free-falling to my doom.

The carefully crafted image of Sydney Jolie I’ve maintained since my father’s death isnotscared of shit like this. She scoffs at it and at people who are terrified of it. Relying on others only leads to betrayal and pain; my father taught me that over and over during my life. People leave and you’re devastated; it’s an absolute in life.

But I’m tied to these men, two of whom I do trust, and it’s not just by selection. This team is inexorably connected to surviving these fucking Games. If I cannot allow them to get close enough to anticipate things, to know me, I’ll put all of our safety inperil. That’s not a smart move, nor is it going to make anything easier. The small steps I’ve taken in the past weeks are making a difference—they were right—and to continue working towards our shared goal, that has to continue.

“You are stronger than you think, Sydney,” I murmur softly. “They are not the men you’ve seen in the camps, nor are they your father. If nothing else, the newer members of the team want to live, and to do so, they have to keep their word. Trusting in their instinct for self-preservation isn’t naïve; it’s logical.”

My brain knows this, but my heart isn’t done fighting for protection, obviously.

I swallow hard, looking down at the loose tank top and sweats I put on, then over at the mirror to see my long hair unbound on my shoulders. Not braiding it is a sign that I’m trying to let them in—I am pulling off the hardened mask I wear in public. This is the side of me I refuse to allow others to know—a woman whose entire world has been upended so many times I can’t find solid ground. This version of me is in the middle of redefining herself to reflect the tumultuous revelations about my powers, the world, my father, and everything in between that being picked for this event has wrought.

Sucking in a slow breath through my nose, I put my hand on the doorknob and twist. My mind is repeating the mantra of ‘you can do this’ and my skin is prickling with anticipation. The way I respond to all of them is insane; it’s like an electric wire is sparking inside of me, especially when they touch me. I don’t know if that’s normal for attraction or if it’s something else because, in a low-level way, I think it’s how I reacted to Thad and Huck when we first met. But I locked that down with my vow to ignore the body as a currency atmosphere many supes my age were adopting. Nothing the humans could give me was worth that compromise—for me—and I shut down my reactions completely to avoid it.

When I walk into the hallway, the suite is quiet. The lighting is dimmed, and my feet dig into the soft pile of the carpet as I pad through the kitchen to the living area. My eyes widen as I see all the work they’ve put into making the space look welcoming and comfortable. Candles, pillows, blankets, cushions… everything is on the floor, including trays of food and drinks that are close to each of them as they watch the muted TV. My appearance gets their attention without fail, and I bite my lip as I give them a nervous smile.

“Um, this is… really… nice,” I say, feeling shyness overcome me as emotions riot inside my chest. “I didn’t think you’d do so much work.”

Rory grins at me, his expression pleased as his eyes move up and down my frame. “Vicious, you look positively radiant. Come over here so we can help you get even more relaxed. You’re going to love it.”

Anxiety rockets through me, but the expressions on Huck and Thad’s faces help me push my limbs to move onto the big pallet they’ve constructed. I lower myself down in the center, where it’s obvious I’m supposed to sit. The mage quickly shifts pillows until I’m propped up, and I watch them move in concert to surround me with just enough space to make sure I’m not being crowded. That graceful dance confirms my mind’s insistence that allowing them access to the real me will help us form a better team, and I sigh softly as some of the tension seeps out of me.

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