So he meant what he said. All three of us are going together. Suddenly the fact that Brennan had cut in on the first dance that I’d been sharing with Dorian makes sense. The two had obviously prearranged the whole thing. They’d shown everyone I belonged to both of them, only I’d been too stupidly naive to see it.
“Afterward we’ll share a life. A home. The relationship is no less real just because the three of us haven’t signed a paper together. You’ll belong to us in every way possible. In return, we’ll give you everything you ever dreamed of.”
Except my freedom.
Brennan takes a few steps until he’s standing next to us. “Our relationship will be unconventional.”
“To say the least.” And confusing as hell.
“Dorian is right,” he goes on. “We’ll care for you, Isla. Protect you. Every day, every night—together.”
My heart slams against my ribs as this incomprehensible arrangement starts to sink in.
Until Dorian dragged me down the hallway after our wedding, I hadn’t been touched, except for a fumbling kiss in college that ended in awkward silence. And now Dorian expects me to surrender totwomen at the same time?
The realization makes me dizzy.
Yesterday morning, I’d been a single woman, happily living with my cat, surrounded by books and focused on my academics. And now I’m expected to deal with the fact I have more than one husband?
The change is so startling that it’s almost too much to take in.
I want to push back, to scream that I didn’t choose this, but I did.
When he lifted the veil and saw I lied to him, I begged him to go through with the ceremony.
“Any more questions?” Dorian asks.
“No.” But… I worry my lower lip. “There’s something else you need to know.”
He exchanges a glance with Brennan.
Without any finesse, I blurt out, “I’ve never…done this before.”
“A threesome, you mean?” he asks.
“I haven’t been with anyone before.” The confession burns, humiliation scalding my throat.
Dorian freezes, his storm-gray eyes flaring wide for a heartbeat. Brennan’s head jerks toward him, a silent jolt passing between them—shock, pure and unguarded.
“You’re a virgin?” Dorian demands.
Unable to find any more words, I settle for nodding.
Dorian’s jaw clenches, and a soft, “Fuck,” slips out. “Damn it, Isla. What a beautiful, unexpected surprise.”
Before I can catch my breath, he leans in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss—soft, deliberate, tasting of whiskey and intent. It’s not the fierce claim from earlier but a tender press, lingering and warm, a distraction that melts the edges of my panic. My knees wobble, and I sway into him, caught off guard by the unexpected gentleness.
He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.
His tenderness is not something I would have ever expected.
“We’ll take care of you—I promise you that.” His thumbs brush my cheekbones in a slow, steady sweep, grounding me as my pulse stutters.
Years seem to have been removed from his face, making him seem less threatening.
Should this change frighten me even more? A Dorian I actually like could be much more dangerous than one I’m wary of.
“You’re safe with us.”