“So?”
His glacial gaze is chillingly possessive. “So, they aren't worthy to enjoy the sight of you. I won’t have them watching you.”
Silas laughs. “Ironic, since we all know how much you enjoy being watched.”
He’s obviously talking about last night when Everett again came just from eating me out and making me squirt as the others watched and groaned and occasionally lent a wicked hand.
Which led to me bouncing between Crypt and Baelfire. Right before I sucked Silas off in the shower, followed by a fingering-and-feeding session.
Those memories have my face nearly as red as Everett’s as he mutters, “Shut up. It's different when it's anyone outside of the quintet. They don't get to gawk at her.”
“Not unless they want their eyeballs plucked out like our dear Undead puppet,” Crypt agrees, stretching languidly so I get a delicious view of all those muscles.
Damn these men for being so distracting.
“Fine, I'll keep my shirt on.”
Silas sighs. “Such a tragedy.”
He's gotten more playful now that voices aren’t plaguing him. I'm glad. But now that I have their attention, I lift my chin.
"I'll be candid. I'm not just training you four to take out shadow fiends or bounty hunters. I'm training you to take me down whenever I lose control.”
They all stare at me for a beat.
Then Everett rubs his face. "Yeah, no. That's not happening.”
“Yes, it is?—”
"Not. Happening,” he grits.
The others nod, all folding their arms.
Oh,nowthey start agreeing with each other? Fucking legacies.
"It's going to happen. In a real fight of any decent size, I lose control and berserk. And if you four let me spill innocent blood because you're too afraid to take me out, I'm not going to forgive that," I say, folding my arms, too.
"This is asking too much," Baelfire growls, shaking his head as his temper mounts. "I can't hurt my mate. Don't ask me to do something I'm literally fucking incapable of doing.”
I glance at Crypt. “You've seen the aftermath. You know I’m not myself. When I lose it, I become a literal monster.”
“A very pretty monster,” he grins. “I hardly minded the mess, love.”
“That's because those weren't innocents. What are you going to do if I'm berserking near humans? Families? Helplesschildren?”
His smile dies. He looks away.
“That's what I thought.” I look at the rest of them, trying to drive the point home even if sharing this fucking hurts. “Of all the times I woke up covered in blood after losing control in the Nether, the worst was the time I realized Amadeus sent a human into the arena when I was already berserking. He was eleven.”
My voice is dangerously close to catching, so I clear it. “I don't remember slaughtering him, but waking up to see what little was left…” I take a deep breath and try to push the memory back to the dark recesses of my mind, looking at them in turn. “Don't let me become that again. Ineedthis. Please.”
They exchange glances, wavering. Finally, Silas moves to the side and takes a ready stance.
“We will do this for you,” he mutters.
All four of them are unhappy and remain uncharacteristically quiet as we run drill after drill, but at least they aren't fighting me on this anymore.
And for once, Crypt takes it seriously. Instead of dipping in and out of Limbo, poking fun at the others, and whispering things in my ear to try to get a reaction, he falls into a focused, deadly calm that I have to admit does something to me.
