Page 128 of A Song of Air
And all Bryson could do was give in.
Bryson fell limp in his arms. Her pleasure had crested, shattered, and down their bond he felt the earth-quaking way everything changed between them. Like the invisible string that connected Weylyn to Bryson was pulled taut, stretched, and blanketed over them both. Not solidified, but a consumption just the same.
She fell languid against him, eyes fluttering closed. Her heart still pounded, and Weylyn stilled, waiting until her heart resumed its regular tempo. Only then did he remove his fingers from her warmth. Only then did he dare to pull away from her.
Bryson, he was finding, was as addicting as the Unseelie powder clinging to her nose. There were still remnants of that glittering gold left, and he swiped at it with his thumb until there was no trace of it on her skin.
His mother had done this on purpose.
The effects of that drug were something Weylyn knew all too well. The feeling of it coursing through the system, the languid way it made the bones liquid, loosened the tongue, and above all, tore away your inhibitions.
His family had let loose the drug, perhaps hoping it would be temptation for Weylyn, temptation enough that he would indulge in it. Lower his guard enough that he would not realize who was currently hiding in the shadows and watching while he took his mate.
He sighed and threw a glare over his shoulder, making out the form of his brother in the darkness, sitting on a branch like a predator. His shoulders were hunched, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. His claws raked across bark, and it flaked against the ground.
“Quite the show,” he mused.
“I am sure it was.” And if Bryson had been sober, she would have realized someone was watching them, waiting exactly for what had happened to happen. She never would have indulged in him otherwise. That was the consequence of those drugs. They made one lose their senses almost entirely, and Weylyn was sure the iron in the air wasn’t helping her.
He found himself adapting to the court rather quickly. What had been painful became nothing more than a dull ache, his magic entwining with the iron.
“She is very pretty when she comes.”
Weylyn did not tense, for he was sure that’s what his brother wanted. He wanted to unsettle Weylyn. He wanted him feral, out of his mind like mated males usually were. While he did not relish in the thought of his slimy brother watching his mate come apart from the shadows, nudity never bothered him in the slightest. He was from Unseelie, after all, and inhibitions were low, orgies were frequent.
Bryson wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he’d known they’d had an audience. But he was too weak to resist her wants and aches. He’d needed to touch her. Taste her. Let her fall apart into bliss and sleep. If only to give him this single moment of privacy with his brother.
A brother whom he very much wanted to kill.
Weylyn sat next to Bryson’s sleeping form, dusting his hands against his pants.
“Very,” he agreed.
Cassimir chuckled low and took a leap from the tree, landing like a prowling cat on the ground. He straightened to his full height, claws gleaming and in front of him like weapons. “A shame she has been tethered to you.”
A shame. Yes. A great shame, and yet Weylyn did not give an absolute single fuck. The fact was they were tethered. It didn’t matter if she deserved better or not. If there were far better Fae out there for her. It did not matter that she was in love with another man. None of it did, because Bryson washis.
“Have you come to insult me, brother?” Weylyn asked casually, leaning back on his hands. His head dropped back, and his eyes opened to look at the stars.
The stars were far brighter in Unseelie than anywhere else. If he looked close enough, he could make out the Wild Hunt in the distance, streaking through the sky, their glorified cries rocking the clouds like thunder, their whips striking like lightning.
“No,” Cass said. “I have come to issue an invitation.”
Weylyn blinked slowly in his brother’s direction. “An invitation,” he echoed. His lips curled up into a smile. “How hospitable of you.”
Cassimir rolled his eyes. Of all his brothers, Cass was the one who irritated Weylyn the least. “We are family,” he said. “It is high time we put the past behind us. Considering you and your mate will be in Unseelie indefinitely...”
Weylyn did not show his alarm. He knew what his brother was saying was bullshit. If anything, his siblings would hold a grudge until the end of time, and even past the afterlife.
Not even Weylyn could forgive himself for what had happened. No one ever would. He had contended with that fact long ago.
“You think me a fool,” Weylyn whispered.
“That I do.”
It was Weylyn’s turn to roll his eyes. “What is it you want? Truly?”
“An outing,” Cass said. “It is The Hunt. You will participate come morning.”
