He gives me an incredulous look. “Why?” he asks.
“Because it’s the decent thing to do.”
“You hated her.”
“So?”
He sighs. “My gods, woman. You haven’t changed a bit. Still just as frustrating as you always were.”
“Why did you expect any different?” I ask, giving him a sassy wink.
“I am glad that you are…okay,” he says after a pause. “I didn’t say it before.”
I snort with mirth. “Thanks.”
“Here, let me.” He takes the shovel from me and starts to throw soil on top of the bag of ashes. “Should we say a few words?” He smirks.
I huff out a breath. “Here lieth a conniving, old whore who crossed the wrong bitch.” I bend down and pick up a handful of dirt to throw on her makeshift grave.
“That’s it?” he asks with a laugh.
“May she rot in Hell?” I add.
“That’s more like it. Big-mouthed cunt,” he spits onto the mound and I flinch with distaste. I grab the shovel off him and start walking back to the castle.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’ve got to find Devon,” I say. “I need him.”
“When then?”
“When I get back. I’ll find you,” I say and disappear quickly before anything else can be said.
I throw the shovel back in the outhouse and finally, finally lock onto Devon’s position and corner him and Lincoln in the kitchen.
“Come with me. Now,” I command both of them, holding out both of my hands.
“About time,” Devon grouses and grips my fingers tightly. “Where to?”
“The clearing,” I say at once.
He nods and off we go through space to land on the cool, soft grass of the clearing in the forest in England.
“Why here?” Lincoln asks, eventually saying something. Anything. He is more reserved than usual, but hopefully I can put an end to that right now.
“I need you both and here is the perfect place. I trust that a three-way raises no objections?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“Not from me,” Devon breathes before he pounces on me, taking me into his arms to kiss me soundly on the mouth. “Fuck, you scared me. Again. You have to stop doing that, Lizzie. This old heart can’t take it anymore.”
I giggle at him as I start to undo the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll try,” I say, running my hands up his chest and pushing the shirt from his shoulders. It drops to the grass and he proceeds to shed the rest of his clothes.
I turn to Lincoln. He is watching me with hooded eyes and an expression I can’t read.
“Come to me, my Wolf,” I say to him huskily.
He obeys without question, pulling my top over my head and letting it fall to the ground. “You both need me,” I whisper. “Take me as you will.”
Lincoln pushes me back to the grass, laying me flat on my back as he pulls off my jeans.