Behind her, Fenn shrugged. “I may have gotten a little carried away. But whateveryouwere doing in her head…”
She felt his hips shift behind her, the thick press of him rigid against her back—hard, heavy, and not even pretending to hide it.
“Our coordination was clearly off.” Kaelith sank back onto his heels.
“Coordination?” Her eyes darted between them before settling on Fenn. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“You wanted both of us,” he said softly. “Demanded it.”
Her throat tightened.
“Yes.” The word slipped out as she craned her neck, searching Fenn’s face.
There was no way…
Crazy, three-way, healing sex was one thing. It was temporary, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate need to survive. But this? Right now? This was something else.
What if—
“None of us wins the ‘what if’ game, Rynna,” A flicker passed over his expression. “I don’t know how long any of us have. If this war doesn’t kill us…” He hesitated. “…the Weaving may still take you.”
Rynna opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“We should each of us be dead already,” he continued, voice calm. “Here. Now. It’s all borrowed time.”
Then he looked past her to Kaelith and gave the barest nod.
“And I have zero intention of wasting it.”
“Fenn…” Her hand rose before she knew why, fingertips tracing his jaw as he tilted his head back, tracking the fading light bleeding gold across the sky.
“There’s at least three hours until the moon rises.” His throat worked as he chose his words. “There’s nothing else we can do until then.”
He moved. Muscles flexed beneath his skin as he shrugged out from under her. His fingers spread against the stone, nails lengthening into obsidian-tipped talons. He dragged them over the surface, scouring deep gouges into the ground, pinning her in place with only the heat in his eyes.
“Fuck,” she drawled as her lungs forgot their purpose.
Then he raised one shear-tipped hand to trail along her collarbone.
Her mouth fell open at the touch, and her balance tipped, body folding back into Kaelith’s waiting arms behind her.
“You want us?” Kaelith’s voice was rough against her neck. “Then take us.”
Chapter fifty-two
Theairpresseddownon her, heavy and bright.
Rynna slowly opened her eyes, forcing her gaze across the ring. Fenn crouched before her, the obsidian tips at his hands biting into the stone. Kaelith loomed at her back, heat radiating off his body like a second sun.
Blazing overhead, the actual sun was high and merciless. Midafternoon, judging by the angle of the shadows. They were trapped here for hours yet.
Her headache was gone. Just... gone. Burned off in the wake of sensation. Mouth dry, her pulse started to climb, too fast, too tight, as blood rushed in her ears and the last waves of orgasm faded through her limbs. She tilted her head back, eyes slitting against the sun's glare.
“You’re sure?” Her voice was thick with heat and the strain of want.
Fenn moved. One hand braced between her knees. Then the other, as he crawled forward, inch by fucking inch, until his knees wedged between her thighs, pressing her open. He cupped her face in both hands. The claws didn’t cut, but they pressed, piercing along the bend of her jaw, the line of her cheekbones. A controlled threat. A perfect tension.
He looked once over her shoulder at Kaelith, who was silent behind her. Then his attention locked on her again, silver eyes lit from within. The edges of them had darkened, shadows gathering like storm clouds just beneath the glow.
