How is that possible?
How can we be from two different worlds, forced to be together, and be so right for each other?
As someone who always wants answers, maybe this is one situation where I’ll have to accept there aren’t any.
***
I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the bedroom door slides open and the two males clinging to me jolt upright, their pointed fangs bared.
Hadrian and Theron stop as though they’ve hit a brick wall when they see Sayer and Jareth in bed with me. Hadrian and Theron share a look and I jump to my feet to head off whatever conclusions they’ve drawn.
Except I don’t get there. Both Sayer and Jareth pin me down.
Hadrian smacks Theron on the shoulder. “I rekking told you. You owe me.”
Theron scowls at the three of us. “You cost me a week of laundry detail. I hope you’re happy.”
“I told him solars ago the three of you would be mated up before the mortling was born,” Hadrian crows.
“I thought the two of you were going to fight over the little alien,” Theron admits grudgingly. Then his eyes go kind of hazy as he studies us. “How does it work, exactly? Do the two of you bed her at once? Or do you bed each other? Look, I get if you like to watch, too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
POP! POP! POP!
SNARL!
The two morts in bed make to get up, but I hold them back. “I like to watch,” I say defiantly. “And the pheromones get out of control sometimes. I’m sure when you are lucky enough to get a mate at some point in the far, far future you’ll understand.” My tone drips with condescension. “Sayer would do anything to please me, and Jareth is a loyal friend who wants you morts to continue to breed and have more children to ensure your race doesn’t die out. If you were half the men they are, you’d understand, but clearly you don’t have enough brain cells to share between the both of you.”
There’s a ringing silence save for the sound of Sayer’s and Jareth’s sub-bones popping back in place. My ears ring with a rush of adrenaline and part of me is embarrassed at my tirade, but the other is proud of me for standing up for my guys. I won’t have any of the other morts having a go at them because of me.
Theron pouts as though I’m not right here. “You two always have all the fun. She’s as spicy as a perapa plant.” He waggles his brows at me. “I like that. I should have been the one who got to mate her.”
Again, right here, buddy.
Hadrian scowls. “If only we could mate with the ones we truly want…” Something tells me he’s not talking about me.
“Too bad,” Jareth says and wraps an arm around me. “She’s our queen, not yours. Now what do you want?”
With a sigh, Theron says, “Breccan says you’ve got more information about the prison whereabouts, Say. We’re meeting at the command center to plot out a route for a rescue mission and we need you there. They want us gone as soon as possible, so if you can manage to tear yourselves out of a bed for a few hours, we’d appreciate it.”
He leaves, but Hadrian hovers behind, his eyes on me. With a bitter look, he soon follows Theron out of the room.
What was his problem?
“He’s had eyes for Aria since she came out of cryo. We’ve been telling him to get the rekk over it, but he’s young, yet. Maybe it’ll be good for him to go on this mission to Exilium Penitentiary. He needs some space to sort himself out.” Sayer rubs my shoulder and regretfully pulls himself from the bed to dress.
“You aren’t worried who they’ll tell?” This is all my fault. I should have left last night before we went to bed together.
Jareth kisses my brow. “Let them tell. We have nothing to hide anymore. I’m proud to have you both as my mates, no matter what anyone says.”
He seems so sure, but I’m still so damn uncertain.
I can’t be the mate they need, the one they truly deserve, until I’ve made things right with the other women. I won’t be the cause for hard feelings between my guys and everyone else. The morts so far have been accepting of their unconventional relationship and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.
***
“How are you feeling?” Avrell asks delicately.
I’m not generally a shy woman and I’m not easily embarrassed, but there’s definitely a blush on my cheeks at my next appointment with Avrell. So, I’m putting off confronting Molly and Aria. Can you blame me? I’d rather face Avrell, who’d seen me at my absolute most vulnerable than face their disappointment and accusations.