“Someone has to carry it.”
“Not alone.” Odelm shifted closer, his body heat bleeding through the thin fabric of my flowy dress. “Never alone. That’s what a clan is for.”
The training below continued—the rhythm of combat, the dance of weapons, the grunts and hisses of males pushing past their limits. Through the crimson thread, I felt Zyxel’s exhaustion. Through older bonds, I felt Kaede’s relentless focus, the way he was cataloging every weakness in their coordination and already planning how to fix them.
Through newer connections—thinner, fainter—I felt Ryzen’s grief-forged determination.
They were doing this for me.
All of it was for me.
“Let us help,” Odelm murmured against my ear. “Please.”
The word cracked something open inside me. Please. Such a simple word. Such a devastating one.
“How?” I asked. “And with what?”
Xylo’s hand slid from mine to my hip, turning me gently until my back pressed against the railing. His clinical gaze had softened into something warmer—desire tempered with concern, need balanced against care.
“By taking some of that weight from you,” he said. “Even if only for a moment.”
Odelm’s fingers traced the line of my jaw, tilting my face toward his. His jade eyes held mine with an intensity that made my spots flicker.
“Keep watching them,” he said, jerking his head toward the spurring males.
I blinked. “What?”
“The training.” His thumb brushed my lower lip. “Keep your eyes on them. Keep your mind locked down so they can’t sense what we’re doing.” His voice dropped lower, rough with promise. “Use your mental strength. Shield us from them. Treat this as practice.”
Understanding dawned, hot and sudden.
My Favored intended to pleasure me here. Now. While their clanbrothers trained below with Ryzen, unaware. While I maintained my shields and pretended nothing was happening.
The challenge in it made my breath catch.
“I could slip,” I whispered. “If my shields crack—”
“Then they’ll know.” Xylo moved behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his lips brushing my neck. “They’ll feel your pleasure through the bonds. They’ll know exactly what their clanbrothers are doing to their nestqueen.”
Heat pooled low in my belly.
“Would that be so terrible?” Odelm asked, and his smile was wicked. “Letting them sense you? Knowing that you’re here, being worshipped, while they fight to protect you?”
My shields trembled.
Below, Kaede barked another command. Zyxel rotated in. Ryzen’s daggers wove defensive patterns.
“Watch,” Xylo breathed against my ear. “Watch them train to defend you. To kill for you. To love you.”
I watched.
Odelm knelt.
The motion was graceful, deliberate—a worshipper assuming his proper position. His hands gathered the flowing fabric of my dress, lifting it slowly, exposing first my calves, then my thighs, then…
I gasped.
“Shields,” Xylo reminded me, his mouth tracing the curve of my neck. His hands slid around to cup my breasts through thethin fabric, thumbs finding my nipples with unerring precision. “Keep them strong.”
