Page 33 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Drystan must be pacing, because he’s getting closer again. “He chose to save his own skin.”
“I’m not saying that his motives were pure,” Bree agrees. “But it’s a start. We can at least trust him to work in his own self-interest.”
“Goddess save me from the whims of the under fae,” Drystan snarls. “He dies at Beltaine. Or have you forgotten that she still can’t have her wings touched without flinching?”
Lore pipes up, “You may not have noticed, given your stunted emotional range, but wolfie has done more damage to Rose in the last twenty-four hours than the Fomorian has.”
Jaro snarls, his only contribution to the conversation so far, but otherwise, no one says anything.
The silence stretches, becoming the companionable quiet of a group of people lost in thought.
“They’re talking about us,” Bree murmurs, interrupting the argument before it can get any worse. “But it’s nothing malicious. They also have no idea why Lore has decided to trust Caed—although they’re putting it down to his madness.”
“Madness is such a strong word,” Lore muses. “I prefer to think of myself as morally uninhibited.”
Bree actually snorts a little at that one. “Come on. We should all get some rest. It’s a long journey tomorrow, and Lox has the watch.”
“I have the watch,” Jaro corrects. “I won’t sleep much, anyway.”
“You were just in an iron cage,” Drystan reminds him. “Sleep. Being tired won’t help you resist the wolf.”
Resist the wolf?
Questions I can’t ask swirl in my mind as Lore carries me over to a bedroll and tucks us both in. There’s something poking at my side, and I squirm slightly to get comfortable as I ponder whether it’s an erection or a dagger. Knowing Lore, it could be either.
Nine
Jaromir
Ihave to tell her.
“Shh, pet, you don’t want to wake the others, do you?”
Like I could sleep through the scent of Rose’s arousal wrapping around my cock. Whatever the redcap is doing to her beneath his blankets has our little mate writhing. Her muffled cries are pure, beautiful, torture.
“You like knowing they could look over and see me fucking your sweet little pussy with my fingers?” Lore’s words are not helping the situation.
He’s been playing with her for the past fifteen minutes. I know, because my wolf has been painfully attuned to every single hitched breath and muffled moan. He wants her soft and soaking beneath us, taking our cock as we mark her as ours forever.
Lore would share, I know he would. But I can’t trust myself. Kitarni’s warning—that a mating without all five of us might not take—rings in my mind as Lore wrings tiny, pleasured cries from our mate.
I’m not jealous, but I can’t do this. Growing up, my wolf was always stronger than most, but I could control him. It took work and cooperation, but we made it out of adolescence with a good bond.
Until Aiyana’s challenge.
Now, we’re more at odds than we’ve ever been. It makes us a danger to Rose.
She needs to send me away. I’ll go to Elfhame, fight honourably alongside Florian until my wolf is exhausted and the war is won. But she needs to know why, because Lore is right; I’m hurting her by keeping her in the dark.
“That’s it. Squeeze my fingers just like that. Goddess, your cunt is so fucking tight and wet and?—”
Rose comes, the scent of her arousal sharpening exquisitely as she whimpers her climax. I almost follow her over the edge just listening to her. My cock throbs in angry protest, but I refuse to touch it.
“Good morning!” Lore crows. “It’s a lovely sunny day, isn’t it?”
The effect is immediate. Caed springs to his feet, sword in hand, and I swear Drystan almost breaks his back with how fast he busts out of bed.
It would be hilarious watching them both search for the threat, if my attention wasn’t fixed on Rose’s scarlet cheeks and the glittering sheen of dust that covers the redcap.
