The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)

I truly had no idea whose hands gripped my hips or whose mouth came down on mine, I only knew that I was being guided onto a chest, that another pressed against my back. Only knew that a mouth was on mine, capturing my near scream of relief when I felt the thick, hard heat piercing me as quickly as Cas’s fangs had earlier. Only knew that my palm was led to another rigid length, joining the hand already there. What I had asked for found me quickly, hitting me in shockwave after shockwave. The harsh grunt against my neck, the way those hands grabbed on to me, holding me in place, told me I hadn’t found release alone. Nor was I alone when I was stretched onto my side, my mouth claimed by the one who held me from behind, keeping my leg draped over his hip as the one against my chest took me steadily, relentlessly, and I fell over that edge again. I could’ve had both of them inside me tonight, not at once but at different times. It could’ve only been one of them who’d moved inside me, but I knew who rolled me onto my back, whose lap I was held in when a dark head and a wicked mouth found its way between my thighs, licking and tormenting, tasting and teasing until I shattered apart. Until I felt a hot splash against my lower back, a release driven by my frenzied motions as I was devoured.

“Honeydew,” Casteel murmured, lifting his head as I went utterly boneless.

I didn’t even remember being taken into Casteel’s arms or how the three of us ended up tangled, limp, and exhausted under the shimmering cords. But we stayed there until those cords faded around us and into our flesh, joined by our essences, our breaths, and our bodies—from now until our last breaths.

Chapter 45

Our skin was slow to cool as we lay on the grassy riverbank, our bodies bathed in moonlight. We were still tangled up in one another, legs and arms entwined, and I was drawn to Casteel like always. My cheek rested on his chest, and Kieran’s lay on his shoulder.

I knew in my heart and in my chest, where the eather hummed softly, that the Joining had worked. That was what all those silvery, glittering cords were, connecting us together from now until the end.

None of us spoke as the birds trilled softly to one another, high above us in the wisteria trees. It wasn’t an awkward silence but rather a comfortable, content one as Casteel’s heart thumped steadily beneath my cheek, and Kieran’s against my upper back.

And as I lay there surrounded by their warmth, with each breath carrying their earthy and lush scents, I searched for any hint of shame—or regret for being the one who’d led the three of us to that line and then danced right over it, allowing for the Joining to become something infinitely more. In those calm, quiet moments where I began to realize that our hearts beat in tandem, and our breaths matched in pace, there was no shame. Nor was there a taste of regret or confusion from either of them. All I tasted were soft and airy things.

Peace.

I felt their peace.

I felt mine.

And I didn’t know if I should feel conflicted about what we’d shared—actually, I did. It struck me then that there wasn’t anything I was supposed to feel. It didn’t matter what I would’ve thought or felt a year ago. All that counted was what I felt now. What we felt. And that was something good. Right. Peaceful.

Beautiful.

Casteel moved slightly, turning his head toward mine. A smile tugged at my lips as I felt his mouth brush the crown of my head. His one hand was threaded with mine, resting just below his chest. A silly little part of me even wished we could stay here on the bank of the river, beneath the wisterias, remaining in this slice of the realm that we had somehow carved out for ourselves that now belonged to us.

But we couldn’t. The world waited just a few feet away, and all the things I wouldn’t allow myself to think about earlier awaited.

Kieran moved, easing his arm out from under Casteel and me, and then I remembered. I twisted at the waist. “The mark on your arm?”

Pausing, Kieran lifted his left arm. “It’s gone,” he whispered, turning his arm over as bubbly, sugary wonder gathered in the back of my throat.

Relief was a tentative feeling washing through me as I stared at his unmarred skin. “Do you think that means the Joining usurped the curse?”

“I don’t know,” Casteel said, his voice thick. “I don’t think we’ll know unless Isbeth attempts to renege on the deal and refuses to lift it.”