I come hard, body locking, shaking, muffled scream around Sting’s cock.
They don’t stop.
Armen thrusts deeper, faster. “You’re ours. Say it.”
I pull off Sting long enough to gasp, “I’m yours.”
“Louder.”
“I’m yours!”
Armen groans, thrusts once more, and spills inside me. Rogue follows, hips snapping up hard, filling me.
Sting pulls out of my mouth, strokes himself once, twice, and comes across my face and chest.
We collapse, sweaty, breathing hard. Armen pulls out carefully. Rogue helps me off him. Sting wipes my face with a corner of the blanket.
I lie there, boneless, marked, claimed.
Armen speaks first. Voice rough. “Rot-bound. No ceremony. No reversal.”
The words land final.
I nod slowly. “I know.”
Sting’s hand finds mine. Squeezes once. “No way back.”
Rogue’s fingers trace my hip. “You’re ours. Forever.”
I close my eyes, exhale.
The Favor is gone. My father’s secrets are still buried. Mara is lost somewhere in the Rot, if she’s even alive.
But I’m here. Breathing. Surviving. Belonging.
To them. To the Rot. And maybe that’s enough.
For now.
70
VI
I waketo Armen’s hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently.
“Get dressed,” he says. “We’re leaving.”
I blink, disoriented. “Leaving?”
“There’s something outside we need to handle.” He’s already pulling on his coat. “You’re coming.”
I sit up, blanket pooling around my waist. “Outside the Rot?”
“Yes.”
My pulse kicks. “Why do I need to come?”
Armen’s gaze is steady. “Because it involves you.”
