I stare at her perfect breasts. It’s a reasonable request. But then, I don’t feel like being a reasonable male. I grab a robe from the hook next to the bathroom door and throw it over my shoulder. I step toward her.
“Kieren!” she squeals and darts towards the bathroom, but I cut her off and throw her over my shoulder.
“This can’t wait. And you smell delicious.” I place my hand on her butt, holding her securely to my shoulder.
70
RAINE
Ibounce on Kieren’s shoulder with each step down the corridor. It was hard to say goodbye to my roommates last night, but Roark sent Winnie and Kylie out with them to give them a tour, then had them driven back to the airport.
We’re almost to the stairs when I give Kieren a smack on his ass. “Kieren! Let me get dressed.”
“Look at her on display.” Roark’s rough tone echoes in the hall. “Fuck, Kieren. I want you to cover her up and not at the same time.”
“Let’s go with the first idea.” I smack Kieren’s bare butt again.
He slides me down the front of his chest. His eyes glow at me. Later, we’ll have to do a deep dive into why that is. I put my hand out, but Kieren holds the robe out for me.
I slip it on and roll my eyes as I pull the sash around my waist tightly. “Thank you,” I say sarcastically.
“You’re welcome. Now hurry up.” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“What’s gotten into you?” Roark asks.
“I want to show her what we have downstairs.”
“I always like showing Duchess what I have downstairs.” Roark waggles his eyebrows at me. And it shouldn’t make me hot. It shouldn’t make me wet, because it’s corny, but it does. That’s Roark. He’s not what I thought he was a few months ago at all. He’s not prickly or scary. He’s a big soft cinnamon roll. Okay, a cinnamon roll with some kinks. “Don’t do that, Duchess. I can scent how wet you are. You’ll never get to the prince’s surprise.”
I stand on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. I’m about to slide my hands behind his neck when Kieren spins me around. “Trust me, you’re going to want to see what I have for you! Now walk or I’ll carry you.”
Roark glares at Kieren, and I’m pretty darn sure they are communicating telepathically or something. Their eyes flick to me at the same time, and their body language changes in a way that has to be something other than coincidence.
“You better move now. The prince is getting testy.”
“Aren’t you technically a prince too?” I smile. Roark likes poking at Kieren’s royal status, but he’s just as much a prince.
“Not anymore,” Roark says.
But before I can respond, Kieren has me off my feet and we’re speeding down the stairs, through the dragon’s eye foyer, down the hallway, and into an alcove I’ve never stopped in before. There’s a heavy oak door. Kieren sets me on my feet, and Evander appears.
“Hello, Raine.” He kisses me on my cheek. “Did you sleep well? I’m sorry I had to go. London was calling.”
Kieren turns the iron key that’s in the door and pushes itopen. There’s a large room beyond, with stone floors and an arched two-story ceiling. There’s a wide door on the other side of the room, bigger than a garage door. Beside the door are wooden pegs in the wall.
“Where are we?” I’m thinking back to the laugh I had when I first got here about there being a dungeon.
“Our hoard, Raine. I’m taking you to our hoard.”
“Are you sure? I’m not part of your thunder.” I clasp my hands together.
“No, you haven’t had the lightning. You haven’t officially, by the fates, become part of our thunder. But I don’t care about the fates anymore. I care about you. I love you. And I chose you. Forget the fates. We want you.”
I want my heart to sing, to soar upward, because I want it too. More than anything. To keep these three. To live here with them, surrounded by the men I love.
Love? I do love them. It’s true. I want them, and I want to stay here, but there’s more to it. Roark and Evander told me last night that they love me, and now Kieren has too. But what about Kieren’s sister? What about the people they need to help? If Kieren’s parents are willing to lock his sister in a tower, what else are they willing to do? It can’t be good.
Evander takes one of the giant circular handles in his hand, and Roark takes the other. They give a tug, and the doors swing open. Giant stone stairs lead downward. They’re smooth with wear and scratches. Wide scratches. I’m guessing they’re made from dragon’s talons. They want me to go down to their hoard... a place where they shift... a place where they’re their primitive selves. My heart takes off, pounding in my throat.
