Page 38 of Fawn

Ienter my quarters and come to a grinding halt, doing a double-take as I find Eiden bound naked to the wall with a cock ring on. His big body shudders, bronze skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. He sends a piteous look my way like I might be inclined to interfere.

I am not going to interfere.

Nox is on the other side of the room, wearing a brooding expression that does not bode well for Eiden. The bastard doesn’t have an empathetic bone in his body, but he generally toes the line.

Generally.

“How long has he been like this?” I ask casually. Eiden’s cock is hard and angry looking—there is a distinct purple tinge to it. He is already leaking enough pre-cum for it to be dripping from his balls onto the polished stone floor.

Nox lifts his head from where he was pouring himself a drink and glances toward the gilded clock on the stone mantle. “Five minutes, tops.”

I raise a brow at Eiden, who looks just as miserable… and aroused.

My eyes shift back to Nox and the bloody gash on his side. Antlers, most likely. It does not have the jagged, mutilated edge of a bite or a claw but rather a puncture site. “What happened to you?”

“There was trouble during patrol,” Nox says. He lifts the goblet to his lips, throat working as he drains the wine. Lowering it, he wipes the back of his hand across his lips. “Eiden turned feral. I had to calm the fuckwit down.”

My gaze swings back to Eiden.

“Please shift and heal, Nox,” he begs. “I cannot bear for you to be hurt.”

“You’ll be begging, alright,” Nox says with a dark smirk.

The dynamics in this room are complex, but somehow, we all fit.

Eiden is our herd omega, big and impressively muscular… with a deep submissive and pacifistic streak. He is sweet and generously loving in nature, and with his flowing golden hair and shimmering bronze complexion, every doe in the herd—and a fair number of stags—are besotted with him. He is the single most requested male when the doe seeks her first lover—his reputation for deflowering virgins is nothing short of legendary. By contrast, his stag is a violence incarnate, takes over and turns feral at the hint of trouble. It’s fair to say our omega suffers a lot of conflict.

Nox is his dominant opposite in every way, and while his methods might seem extreme, he is the only one who can bring Eiden down after a feral episode… Eiden, who suffers great guilt afterward, must repent, or he will never settle.

Eiden whimpers, perhaps sensing I will not offer him comfort or save him.

“Fucking pathetic,” Nox says, shaking his head as he returns the goblet to the marble-topped table with a dull thunk before striding over to join me. He smooths his hand down Eiden’s throat absently. The big omega presses shamelessly into the touch. Nox’s hand slides all the way down Eiden’s chest until it comes to his cock. His thumb and fingers press cruelly into the swollen flesh from root to tip before he releases it, leaving it jerking vigorously.

I swallow and shake my head slowly, calling on my control as the scent of Eiden’s arousal clouds the air.

“I need to leave,” I say, rousing myself and indicating the letter in my hand.

“Please don’t leave,” Eiden begs, his eyes rolling toward Nox, who only grins with predatory intent.

Normally, I would pull up a chair and watch the proceedings, maybe bring a sweet doe in to tend me while Nox edges Eiden to the point of no return.

Not today. Today, this letter represents something far more pressing than sexual gratification.

“Who is it from?” Nox asks. Eiden is already too far gone to comment…

“Fawn,” I say. “Well, her mother, I believe.”

“TheFawn?” Eiden asks, sounding surprisingly cognizant despite being bound and ready for torment.

“Yes,” I say. “I believe so. It has been delayed a year already.” The anxiety I experience when I consider the young doe vulnerable among wolves, her father passed over to the Goddess, and her mother, a doe herself, the only source of protection, is rivaled only by the rage.

I rarely experience such strong emotions. But I am nevertheless in their grip today—rage, rampant possessiveness, and a rabid protectiveness that I usually only feel toward Eiden.

“Want us to come with you?” Nox asks, his brows furrowed with concern. He thumbs in the direction of Eiden. “Whelp boy can wait.”

“No,” I say, not sure why I feel the need to do this alone. Something stirs within me—this is a quest I took and failed, and it belongs to me and only me. Also, Nox and Eiden are a lot to take in. My sweet doe needs to be eased into this…

Mine?

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