“Okay.” I waited until they left, then laid down and curled around Brumous.
Confusion, fear, and a reluctant curiosity swirled inside me, but in the end, sleep muffled all of them. Not even my hunger could keep me awake.
“Three husbands.”
I hugged Brumous, a few tears falling into his fur.
“Please be kind,” I whispered. “Please be decent. And please,please, don’t hurt me.”
#
Zane
The door clicked shut behind us, but none of us moved from the hallway. The girl’s voice had been gauze-thin, a frayed ribbon of sound as she thanked us for patching her up. Now, standing there like three idiots from a rom-com montage, we listened as her breaths turned slow and deep.
“Threehusbands.” A wet hitch in her voice. “Please be kind. Please be decent.”
The silence thickened.
Koa’s shoulder brushed mine as he leaned closer to her closed door. Cas stood frozen, the living equivalent of a “Do Not Touch” sign. Me? I was already cataloguing the ways those simple sentences could rot my heart.
“Kind” didn’t sound like a compliment. More like a participation trophy dressed up as a wedding vow.
Then her exhale seeped under the door.
“And please,please, don’t hurt me.”
Koa was gone before I could blink, fists so tight that I knew his nails were cutting crescent into his palms. Cas stalked after him, no less angry, but far better at controlling it. I lingered, laying my forehead on the mahogany that separated me from my whole world.
No one will ever hurt you again, sweet girl,I silently vowed, pressing my lips to the door.And anyone who tries? Well, strawberries jam, but my guns don’t.
I caught up to the others in the foyer, where floor-to-ceiling windows framed the forest. Cas was pacing a trench into the marble, muttering logistics under his breath: Supplies, security protocols, how many times he’d need to disinfect the guest room after the pup’s inevitable potty accidents. Organization, his go-to avoidance strategy.
“So,” Ko said, perching on the arm of a leather sofa. His voice carried that deceptive calm, like a tidal wave deciding whether or not to drown us today. “She called usmates.”
“She’s concussed.” Cas froze mid-step.
“Shifters use that term,” Ko pressed. “Not humans. Not dhampirs. Not vampires.”
“Like Z said, she doesn’t smell like a shifter.” Cas’ knuckle dug between his eyes like he could physically erase the conversation. “I don’t sense an animal spirit.”
“Yeah, and dhampirs don’t get beloveds at all, according to the brochure.” I flopped onto the couch, toeing off my boots. “Yet here we are.”
“This isn’t a joke.” Cas cut his eyes at me.
“Never said it was, but guess what, Casimir? She’sours. All three of us. That’s not a cosmic typo.” I spread my hands, channeling my best game-show host energy. “Maybe the universe finally upgraded operating systems. Multiplayer mode now unlocked!”
Ko snorted, but Cas’ frown deepened.
“Dhampir bonds don’t work like that. They’re exclusive. Singular.”
“And yet.” Ko gestured upstairs, whereherpresence hummed in my veins like a second heartbeat.
“If Arabesque sent her as a decoy or a spy—”
“Oh, please.” I lobbed a throw pillow at Cas’ head. He dodged on reflex. “You saw her injuries. Those weren’t from climbing the ladder of Dark witch hierarchy.”
“She’s terrified.” Koa’s jaw flexed. “Of everything, including us, but even more frightened of where she came from.”
