And that’s how the night unfolds.
Next, we go near the guard sleeping quarters, stifling every sound as boots shuffle nearby. Afterwards, we sneak to the back of the servants’ kitchens, intending to grab some bread, only to stumble on another couple tangled together in the shadows. I turn to Colsar, mouth open to protest, but he hoists me up and drags me out, pushing my face against the door so I can hear their muffled groans while he slides into me, thrusting hard until a voice inside calls out, “Who’s there?”
Colsar pulls out fast, yanking me around the corner and down the hall. My chest heaves, but before I can steady myself, he pins me to a wall again. I realize with a jolt we’re right outside Sevrin’s rooms. I grab his arm, nodding toward the door, and he stares at it, understanding settling on his face. Then a slow, dangerous smile spreads as he leans in close, whispering, “If we get caught, my brother will lose his mind seeing me between your legs, my seed dripping out of you. He has no clue what it’slike to feel you tighten around me, to hear you moan in my ear, to take you however I want, whenever I want. Always so eager to please me.”
“Col—” I start, but the pleasure hits, overwhelming, cutting me off. He presses his mouth to mine, hard and bruising as my body trembles, spent and sore.
He eases me down, dragging my cloak back over me just enough to hide what we can. As he reaches down to close his trousers I realize he is still erect. I grab the front of his shirt and say softly, “Anywhere you want.”
I drop to my knees and put him into my mouth, smiling as he lets out a soft moan. He leans his hand on the wall, the other hand tangled in my hair. His length has barely touched the back of my throat when he suddenly pulls out with a soft groan as warm streaks shoot onto my face and the front of my dress. He looks down at me as I scoop some from my face and begin to lick my fingers. “All mine,” I whisper.
“All yours,” he agrees. He leans down to help me up but my legs are unsteady so he lifts me instead.
Back in our chambers, he draws a bath, and I sink into the warm water, collapsing between his legs. Silence stretches between us, comfortable, until I tilt my head up to look at him. “I have no words.”
He smiles, soft and unguarded, and I rest there with him for a while longer before I finally ask what’s been nagging me since earlier. “How were you able to…release so many times?”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “I haven’t run my wolf since Shalvar. I’ve got a lot of…pent-up energy.”
“Why don’t you?—”
“No,” he interrupts, firm. “It was never about needing permission. I feel…uneasy here. I can’t leave you or the children right now. Once I run, I won’t have the control to come back immediately.”
I nod, understanding his need to stay close. As I rest on his chest, I mumble, “Her little claws were so cute.”
He laughs again, the sound rumbling under me. “I didn’t know feeders transitioned that young.”
“When will Ari…do siakar things?”
“The range varies, but usually not as young as this,” he says, fingers brushing lightly over my arm as I drift toward sleep.
“They’re perfect,” I murmur, my eyelids growing heavy. He lifts me gently out of the tub and carries me to the bed, drying me, then himself before pulling the covers over us both and pulling me close.
As I drift off to sleep, I hear him whisper three words: “so are you.”
The Mark
SEVRIN
Sevrin strode through the castle’s quiet corridors, the echo of his boots the only sound breaking the late-night stillness. His thoughts circled Asharin, as they always did. The longing gnawed at him, relentless.
As he turned the corner near his chambers, a stifled moan halted him. It was raw, unrestrained, followed by a deeper, guttural sound. His chest tightened, curiosity clashing with unease. Then he saw them. Colsar and Asharin, pressed against the wall just outside his door, bodies entwined. Colsar was too focused to notice anything beyond her. Her cloak bunched at her hips, legs clamped around Colsar’s waist, liquid trailing down her thighs, glistening in the light. Her head tipped back, mouth open as another soft cry escaped, cut short by Colsar’s lips slamming into hers, hard and possessive.
Sevrin stood rooted, a rush of heat flooding through him. He knew watching was wrong, a line he shouldn’t cross. But Asharin was his undoing; she always had been. He couldn’t look away from her arched spine, her nails digging into Colsar’s back, or the way her dress had been dragged down, exposing her chest,the fabric shifting with each movement, nipples taut in the cool air. She was stunning, painfully so. For a moment, he shut his eyes, imagining himself in Colsar’s place, feeling her shudder beneath him.
His hand slipped below his belt before he could stop it, fingers wrapping around himself as he stayed in the corridor’s shadow. He clenched his teeth, holding back any noise, stroking to match their pace. Each thrust from Colsar, each muted gasp from Asharin, drove him nearer to breaking. “Colsar,” she breathed, the name a shattered plea, and Sevrin’s throat closed, his rhythm stumbling before quickening. As her legs gripped tighter, her body trembling through a climax, he couldn’t hold on. Release hit him, a rough exhale slipping out as he finished into his palm, legs shaking under the strain.
Panting, his focus lingered on her, sliding down her form until it caught on her ankle. A scar, shaped like an X, marked her skin, clear even in the faint light. Ice gripped him. At first, it meant nothing. Just a mark. Just a careless cut, the kind anyone might carry.
Then it didn’t. The mountain rises in his mind without warning. Cold air. White veils. The press of silence that swallowed names and faces alike. A spring cutting through the mountainside. A girl whose face he never truly saw, only the outline of her, the way she moved, the way she spoke as though nothing in the world had the right to touch her.
I may forget you.
The sound of water swallowing something without resistance.
I don’t forget. I can’t.
His breath falters. He remembers the knife in her hand. The quick drag of steel across skin. The mark left behind, small and imperfect.
