Renner watched, wondering if the twins would make love with the same synchronicity. The way Miren’s gaze studied them, the same thought might have occurred to her.
She tapped a finger to her lips. “A witch can share her powers where she chooses.”
Renner planted his hands on his hips, not liking the fact she seemed to be seriously considering the inappropriate possibility. “But her mate’s share of her power is more potent.”
“You’d see it divided into thirds?” Elias asked, a grin beginning to twitch at the corners of his mouth.
“There seems to be a deep well of energy within you,” Mikkel murmur
ed, the huskiness of his voice a blatant tease.
“What are you doing?” Renner mouthed to the two mermen over her head.
Elias and Mikkel grunted, arms still crossed, their gazes locking with Renner’s.
Renner shook his head and narrowed his eyes, giving them a steady, angry glare. Challenge accepted.
“What did you do?” Bryn asked, grabbing Miren’s arm to pull her into the privacy of the kitchen. The other women were busy setting the table for the evening meal.
Miren’s cheeks billowed around the deep breath she expelled. “I couldn’t help it. He ordered me to choose him—”
Bryn’s eyebrows shot upward. “Ordered you?”
“Then he said I really only had a choice between him and the mermen.” She tossed her hair back and fisted her hands on her hips. “And then he as much as said us delicate little witches couldn’t handle more than one mate, so I had to choose just one…” Miren pursed her lips before admitting, “I couldn’t let him be right.”
Bryn shook her head. “The three of them are making a power play for you. And Mikkel and Elias seem very willing to share you, should you swing their way.”
Miren pretended nonchalance while her heartbeat fluttered. The very idea was wicked with a capital W. “They are very handsome. They’re both very strong…” She sighed, remembering Renner’s hands holding her hips with a firm grip. “Renner’s strong.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. “Renner’s the ass who got you into this mess. He should have just carried you all the way to your bedroom.” At Miren’s glare, she shrugged. “You know you want him.”
“I want him in my bed, but I don’t want him as a mate.”
“You’re letting your hormones guide you. For just a moment, be practical. Your power can’t be divided into equal shares among the three men. Only one man can claim you.”
Miren’s cheeks heated, but she tilted her chin. “That’s not quite accurate. More than one man can fill me with his seed at the same time. I’ve heard stories.”
Bryn’s cheeks were also a deep rose. “Maybe two, but how the heck would you manage to accept three?” When Miren opened her mouth to argue, Bryn leaned toward her. “How many men can you fit in your vagina at the same time?”
Miren’s jaw sagged. She’d never heard Bryn speak in such a blunt, snide tone. “That’s how—”
“That’s the only way a witch is claimed. The first to have his sperm inside you is the one whose fruit you will bear.”
Anger at herself for not thinking this through washed through her. “I won’t be birthing watermelons.”
“Watermelons aren’t fruit,” Bryn said, a ferocious frown drawing her eyebrows together.
“Really?”
Bryn’s eyes bugged in aggravation. “Stop changing the topic.”
“I’m not the one who brought up fruit.”
Bryn took a deep breath and then firmed her mouth into a line. “Do you want more than one of them in your bed?”
Miren crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks were beginning to blaze, but embarrassment wasn’t going to stop her being stubborn. She hated losing an argument, hated being in the wrong. She’d brazen this out, even knowing she was digging herself a deeper hole. “If I have to choose one and live with him for the rest of my life, shouldn’t I at least know I chose the best one?”
Bryn’s face screwed up in a fierce scowl. “Are you going to give each a horizontal interview?”