Here the truth was obvious: Enchanted words were carved into my back. Mother’s rare enchantment must be mutating. It was the only thing that made sense.
I was. So. Screwed.
Malum’s eye twitched as he stared at me like he knew I was full of shit.
I stared back with a bored expression.
He burst into flames.
I sighed heavily. Men were exhausting.
“What’s going on?” Scorpius asked, sleepy as he pushed himself off the bedroom floor next to my bed. Orion mumbled and sat up with him.
For some reason, all three of the kings had been lying on the floor near John’s bed while I slept （sleep being a generous term for coma）。
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Orion mouthed, and his angelic features scrunched up with concern.
For a second, I wanted to shake my head and say no. I wanted to tell him about Mother and the word carved into my back. I wanted to seek shelter in his beauty and the kindness he was offering.
I stared into his warm, inviting eyes and forgot to breathe.
“Baby,” he mouthed as he reached his hand forward and trailed it across the side of my face.
Chocolate raspberries filled my nose, and I closed my eyes. Rested against his golden fingers and let him hold me.
He stroked me softly.
A lover’s caress.
My lashes fluttered against his palm.
“Sweetheart, why were you convulsing in the shower?” he whispered softly, his lyrical voice wrapping around me like a cocoon of warmth.
The words were on the edge of my lips.
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, and I leaned against the touch.
I let myself pretend.
That he hadn’t stalked me down the hall like he wanted to hurt me.
The former without the latter was hot. The former with the latter was serial killer shit, and not the endearing fictional kind Sadie was always going on about.
It was the energy of the real-life male serial killers that were hunted down by the High Court and disemboweled publicly as a crowd cheered. While it was true that sometimes even modern-day killers had fans, I’d always made it a point to cheer extra loud as their intestines spilled out.
As the great Olympus philosopher Razarith had said, “The ends always justify the means. No exceptions.”
If Orion hunted women, then I’d hunt him. No exceptions.
I pulled my head away from his lips.
For a second, he grabbed the back of my head and held me still like he wasn’t going to let me go.
It was the reminder I needed.
He was breathtakingly stunning, but he wasn’t gentle.
It was a mirage.
Why did I keep forgetting?
I yanked away from him roughly and pushed at his chest until he took a step back from the bed.
Orion’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he realized I was rebuffing him.
He fisted his hands.
His chest heaved as he pulled at his blond hair and stared at me. Like he could hypnotize me with his gaze.
I looked down at the covers.
What did he expect? My fictional lover would never chase me. Not like that.
Was it too much to ask for a man to fall on his knees at the sight of me and treat me like a delicate doll that would break if she wasn’t protected because he thought I was perfect?
John pushed past the kings and held a cup to my lips. I gulped the refreshing water, grateful for a distraction from the devils. I choked as I inhaled too fast.
“Aw, there’s my special girl. Can’t even drink water correctly,” John said as he patted my head like I was an idiot.
I glared up at him.
Orion made a wounded sound as I refused to look over at him, and Malum growled like he was protecting his mate.
I choked harder on the water.
The three kings crowded by the bed, and the weight of their attention was heavy on my shoulders.
I didn’t look up at Orion. I didn’t breathe, because Scorpius was listening. Sweat dripped down my face from the heat of Malum’s flames. I didn’t wipe it away.
As much as I tried to ignore them, the kings’ presence was overwhelming.
“Good girl,” John whispered as he wiped water gently off my chin.
I smiled instinctively, then glared as I realized what I was doing.
Orion made a weird noise.
The temperature spiked hotter.
If I could see auras like a witch, I’d bet all the gold in the fae palace that all three of the kings’ would be maroon. The color of spilled blood, aggression, lust, evil.
John brushed a curl behind my ear and asked softly, “How do you feel?”
I gave him a hesitant smile but stared at the cup because I couldn’t look into his kind eyes. The throbbing ache between my legs reminded me of what we’d done.
What I’d done to him.
John stroked a curl off my forehead, and I struggled to swallow around the lump in my throat.
John was too good for me. His aura was probably gold. The color of friendship, compassion, generosity.
The kings stood beside the bed at my feet.
John stood beside my head.
I imagined my aura engulfed the space between them. Mine was black. Depression, bleakness, heaviness, and suffering.
After I’d finished drinking all the water in the cup, there was nothing left to distract me from my guilty conscience.
I cleared my throat a few times, then asked, “John, are you okay after the punishment?”
John made a pained sound in the back of his throat, then pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
He whispered, “I’m completely fine, Aran. It’s you I’m worried about.”
I sank lower into the covers.
I didn’t deserve his forgiveness.
Gentle fingers tipped up my chin, and John asked, “Are you hurting?”
The same fingers had dug into my flesh while he was inside me. A tiny zip raced down my spine.
I breathed out shakily, then gave him a fake smile. “No, I’m good.”
John narrowed his eyes like he wanted to argue.
I turned to the kings. “How about you guys? Did I hurt you?”
There was a long pause, then Scorpius sneered, “What are you talking about?”
I waved my hand at my hip, unable to make sense of their presence. “The slave brand. Did it hurt you or something? Is that why you’re acting concerned?”
“No, it did not,” Malum snarled. “We were worried about our teammate who was passed out in the shower, covered in bloody vomit.”
I stared back at him with a dead expression.
A long second passed.
I raised my eyebrow. “Oh yes, I’m sure you were really worried about the hole in the room.”
Malum swore viciously and said through gritted teeth, “You know I didn’t mean that when I said it.”
My jaw dropped.
I raised my eyebrows. Well, this was news to me.
“Women have”—Malum clenched his jaw—“other useful qualities.”
I scoffed. “Please enlighten us.”
There was a long pause during which I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. “You can be brave. You saved my Protector, and you didn’t have to. I’m grateful.”
I gawked at Malum like he’d grown a second head.
Scorpius snarled. “We were worried about you.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I told you to stand behind me, but you went ahead.”
Scorpius’s usual perfectly slicked-back hair was messy, and his pale skin had a greenish hue. He looked like shit.