Apparently she knows the routine because we’re only halfway to the stairs by the time she’s back down, her little polka-dot swimsuit clutched in her tiny clawed hands. She thrusts it toward her mother with an insistent chirp.
“Yes,” Hannah laughs, the sound like bells. “But the rest of us have to change too.”
Raven starts to whine—a surprisingly piercing sound for such a small creature—especially when she sees Ksenia and Kharon immediately heading outside through the main doors, where afternoon sunlight streams in.
“Wait for your mother,” Abaddon chides gently, and Raven flies in agitated circles around his horned head but calms down slightly as they trudge up the stone stairs to change.
Even Abaddon has adopted some swim trunks that Hannah sewed for him—which I secretly find hilarious considering he spent most of his long, long existence in little more than a loincloth, if that. Sometimes nothing at all.
We have truly been tamed by these women.
And then I frown, the thought striking like lightning.
Could even Remus be tamed?
I immediately reject the notion. He’s not like the rest of my brothers. He never has been.
War and chaos are in his very soul. It’s not something he does—it’s what heis.
Lauren is the last to emerge from her room, and I glance away quickly after seeing her.
But it’s too late.
The image of her perfect, shapely curves is seared into my mind like a brand. The deep emerald green of her swimsuit against her skin. The way the fabric clings to every dip and swell.
I blink hard, yet there the image still is, stealing my breath, making my chest tight.
I lead the way back downstairs, wings tucked close to my body. It takes every inch of my iron self-discipline not to look over my shoulder so I might steal another glance at her.
All for naught because when we reach the bottom of the stairs, she and Hannah pass me, chatting easily like old friends already.
If I thought the sight of the front of her was enough to take my breath away, I was truly not prepared for?—
Her generous backside and hips sway alluringly back and forth as she walks, the motion hypnotic. The high cut of the swimsuit bottoms reveals the full length of her legs, miles of smooth skin that I suddenly want to trace with my hands, my mouth?—
I’d never given much thought to how ridiculously little cloth is involved in the outfits these females call a “bathing suit” before, but suddenly I’m both appalled and entranced.
It barely covers her nakedness. The thin straps. The minimal fabric.
And yet I also want to rip the rest off to reveal everything beneath.
Then I realize the direction of my thoughts and am appalled at myself.
Was I not just thinking that Abaddon spent most of his existence naked? And I know that in ancient times, plenty of women went about barely draped in clothing—priestesses, dancers, slaves. Yet none of them ever affected me as much as this female strutting before me.
I only realize I’ve been standing completely still, dumbfounded like a green youth, when Hannah looks back at me and laughs. “Close your mouth, dear. You’ll catch a fly.”
Lauren looks back then too, and I jerk my eyes guiltily up to meet hers.
There’s a moment of searing connection—her eyes widening slightly, a flush creeping up her neck—before they head out the door into the bright afternoon sunshine, leaving me feeling like I’ve just been kicked squarely in the chest by a war horse.
I let out a huge breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and sprint across the hall to catch up with them all.
I reach the door just in time to see Abaddon and his daughter launch into the air together. His massive wings beat powerfully, creating wind that rustles the trees, while Raven’s smaller wings flutter frantically beside him. She lets out a squeal of pure delight like she’s finally been set free to really fly, to stretch her wings without walls constraining her.
They soar out over the lake—a pristine expanse of crystal-blue water surrounded by towering pines and ancient oaks, their leaves rustling in the breeze. The water sparkles in the sunlight like scattered diamonds.
Kharon and Ksenia are already in the lake, the water lapping at their shoulders. His multiple arms are positioned protectively around her as she lays back against his broad chest, her face tilted to the sun, eyes closed in contentment. Her blonde hair floats around her like a halo, and for a moment she looks almost peaceful despite the obvious discomfort of late pregnancy.
