I nod and pull in a deep breath. Nothing like an ominous warning of potential doom to get the adrenaline flowing. Tarek studies me for a moment, a glint in his light blue eyes that I can’t identify. Whatever it is, it’s been glistening in his gaze since Curio and I walked in here. At first, I thought my slightly mussed braid and my puffy lips were to blame for the look I’d like to explore, but now I’m not so sure.
Tarek runs his ice-blue perusal down my face, stopping when his eyes land on my chest. He tilts his head ever so slightly as though he’s listening for something, and I study the high point of his ear as he does, curious as to what it could be. A satisfied smile stretches slowly across his face, and then he moves to the small table, dousing the herbs in a bowl of water. Once again I’m left confused and curious and wanting more, but what else is new? They should really consider a name change from Order of Scorpions to Order of Confounding Cunt Teasers.
Keenly, I watch as Tarek moves in front of Curio. I scrutinize them both, trying to memorize what they’re doing so that I can mimic it when it’s my turn, but when Tarek leans in andkissesCurio, my mind careens to a complete stop. My mouth drops open, and my eyes grow wide. But the longer I watch, the more I realize it’s not a kiss in the romantic sense. There’s no threading of fingers through each other’s hair, no angling of jaws or swirling of tongues. Not an ounce of passion permeates the interaction. In fact, I can’t be sure unless I get closer, but I think there’s a hairsbreadth of distance between their mouths. I want to crank up the fairy light to examine what’s happening in greater detail, but I was just warned not to do anything to mess with the process.
My focus is drawn from their mouths when pitch-black patches start to spread over Curio’s exposed skin. They first appear over his jaw, erasing the three-day-old stubble that just grazed my chin and cheeks less than a handful of seconds ago when our lips clashed and our tongues danced. Onyx flows up Curio’s ears until the pointed tips are lost to the inky shadows of his hair. The lighter streaks around his face darken, and the loose strands suddenly look as though they’ve been pulled tight in a knot behind his head. The white of a skull claims parts of his face, and vertebrae work down the center of his neck. His hickory-brown eyes are eaten up by liquid obsidian, and all too quickly, the Curio I’ve been getting to know is gone and in his place is Skull of the Order of Scorpions.
I don’t know if it’s on purpose, but when Tarek pulls his mouth from Curio’s and steps back, I realize that Skull looks exactly like he did that night in Dorsin’s room. At the ludere, their glamour gave them short smoothly styled tresses. It was one of the things that threw me off about them at first and made me wonder if they were the same fae from that fateful night. But now Skull is here in all his glamoured glory, and I suddenly smell orc blood and fear in the air.
I shake away the lingering olfactory recollection, not wanting to be sucked back into the memories of that night. The reality is the girl who was kidnapped, beaten, and chained up in that room died that night. Someday maybe I’ll find out who she was and discover what her life would have looked like had she not been robbed of it. But who I am today was born in the pits from blood and brutality. I don’t know if it was a fair exchange, but it’s done. I could choose to be angry about it, try to lay the blame at the Scorpions’ feet, but they didn’t steal me and chain me up. They owed me nothing that night. It’s not pleasant to admit or accept, but that’s the cruel world we live in. Crying about it changes nothing.
It would be easy to wrap myself up in a safe and familiar cloak of rage and resentment, but it’s pointless. I don’t just see Skull when I look at the Scorpion now, Curio is there too. He’s the one who kissed me like I was all he’ll ever need in life to be happy. The male who carved his adoration in my blades and subsequently my heart.
There was a time I thought all I would ever see is the three of them crawling out of Dorsin’s window, my battered and broken body huddled in the corner, too shocked and scared to beg them to take me too. But my eyes are open now, and I can’t seem to stoke the hate that I once could.
Maybe I needed everything that came after, to be who I am today, to be able to stand here ready to claim my place as one of them. Or maybe that’s the shit we tell ourselves to feel better about the times that try to break us. Either way, I’m ready. I’m not afraid of what’s to come.
Tarek strides to Riall, and when they kiss, I’m far less shocked by it. Once again I watch them, mouths pressed together in almost a cold clinical manner. Riall and Tarek are closer to me than Curio was, and I can almost see a hint of something moving from Tarek’s mouth to Riall’s. I stare, feeling a little deviant as I do. The darkened room still robs me of the details I’m so hungry for. Just like with Curio, inky splashes begin to anoint Riall’s skin, the golden tan slowly receding to the claim of thick black shadow.
All too quickly, Riall fades away and Bones emerges.
I have the strangest ache that strikes me as I take both Skull and Bones in. It’s as though I’ve missed theOrdersides of the males. I’ve been sharing my meals and training with one part of them, but now the other part is here again, and I can breathe a little easier.
With Skull, Bones, and Scorpius, things are simpler, smoother. I can brush aside my worry about the future with Tarek, Curio, and Riall. I can ignore the debate about what I want, stop caring about whattheycould mean to me, and instead fall back into the arms of death and destruction, a place that has enabled each and every one of us to become who we are today.
Bones’s namesake flashes white amidst the black of his glamour. His skeleton is a twin in height and bulk to Skull’s. They share no blood between them, but they truly look like brothers when they’re draped in doom like this.
Abruptly, Tarek steps away from Bones and starts to advance on me. My heart kicks up, and I clench and unclench my hands as he comes to a stop. His impressive figure towers over me, and I feel lost in his shadow in more ways than one. Tarek’s breastplate knocks against mine as we stand and stare at one another.
What would the tips of my nipples feel like against the heat of his skin?
“Do you hear it, Auset?” he asks me, his crystal-blue eyes boring into mine and snapping me away from my lurid thoughts.
“Hear what?” My voice is nothing more than a whisper, as though the space between us has been baptized holy and now deserves reverence.
“Your heart is beating in tune with mine,” he whispers back, watching me, like he’s waiting for the exact moment I hear the truth of what he’s saying.
Astounded, I strain to hear the rhythm thumping in my chest. Mine is a steady staccato of apprehension and anticipation. I try to hear past that, to hear if what Tarek is claiming is true, but all I can make out is the steady thrum of my own heart. I lift a hand to press to his chest, but his armor blocks that path. Then I see it—my gaze snags on the steady bounce of a thick artery in his neck. My fangs drop as I observe the steady pulse. He’s right, the beat matches the cadence of my own heart.
My eyes widen as synchronized rhythms grow louder in my ears. I can suddenly hear the confirmation of what my eyes just witnessed. I open my mouth to say something, to ask how this is possible or why it feels so significant, but Tarek’s mouth presses against mine, and I go still. I shut my eyes and quiet the questions blazing through me, afraid that I’ll do something to fuck up his thura while he’s using it to glamour me.
I press my mouth harder against his, not able to help it, but it isn’t until Tarek’s large hands cup my face to hold me still that I realize he’snotkissing me, not exactly anyway. His mouth is cushioned against mine, but instead of nibbling on my lips or deepening the contact between us, he’s breathing into me.
It caresses my tongue and drips down my throat, tasting of smoky need and biting steel. It cools my insides at first, but then a prick of warmth starts at my center. It sluggishly ebbs out and begins to coat everything it touches. The sensation and flavor of his power slinks over me, masking my tan skin and freckles, tucking away my silver eyes and moonbeam-stroked hair. Each breath of Tarek’s thura shutters protection down around me. It shields me from the monsters by showing them that I am one too.
Bit by bit, Tarek’s influence begins to wane. All too quickly, the consuming deluge becomes nothing more than a trickle. I’m tempted to grab his head to keep him here. The drive to force him to stay pressed against me, feeding me from the depths of his strength, is abruptly all consuming. A new hunger arises, one that I suspect is solely linked to the Sanguinna in me. The staggering demand for blood hits me so hard and so fast that it triggers a flare of panic. Cold alarm hammers through me, and I think it’s the only thing that allows me to shackle the pounding urge and keep my hands down and my sudden thirst in check.
The stream of power from Tarek stops completely, and the thrumming need for blood quiets from a pummeling demand to a manageable tap against my senses. Tarek’s hands continue to hold me in place, and a spark of confusion flickers through me. Why is he not stepping back? And then his stationary lips, where they’re still pressed against mine, start to move.
His mouth is tentative at first, searching. Doubt drips through me, not having watched him do this with Skull and Bones, but then he lightly suckles my bottom lip, and my uncertainty unravels. This isn’t about glamour; this is a surrender to the driving desire that’s been building since the first night that I washed his body and tempted his soul.
Gone is the thura that Tarek was pouring into me, and in its place is his tantalizing and tortuous tongue as he begins to insatiably plunder my mouth. I mewl softly, ready to drown in the feel of him, the feel of us as we finally collide and ignite. He works expertly around my fangs, careful not to nick himself, although the prickling in my gut that wants his blood to be streaming down my throat right now wishes he would.
I once again freeze, disturbed by the direction of my desire, but Tarek growls his objection to my sudden inaction, and the carnal sound crushes my hesitation under the weight of his voracious hunger. Abandoning all inhibition, I dive into the want and possession I feel in his kiss, meeting it with my own. We nibble and imbibe, trading fervor back and forth, and then Tarek slows, taking our mouths and connection from a frenzy to a measured, methodical devouring. Each stroke of his tongue against mine, every pull and suckle of his lips, has potent need coursing through me like venom. I burn and transform from the contact, no longer sure of who I’ll be on the other side of this, but there isn’t an ounce of me that cares.
If the three of them are the bargain for my soul, they can have it.
I thread my fingers in Tarek’s hair only to find his loose waves have been pulled tightly behind his head. My eyes snap open, and I discover that Tarek’s snowflake-blue eyes and ivory complexion are now hidden underneath the same black and white glamour that the rest of us are draped in.
