“Thorn?” Orion casually steps over the scattered logs to reach me. His hand finds my hip like it belongs there. “You’re looking at us like?—”
“Like what?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
“Like you want to devour us,” Kieran finishes, hunger flickering behind his eyes. “Or destroy something.”
“Both.” The word tears out of me. “Definitely both.”
“Uh.” I clear my throat. “Finn is in the woods. He was sent to kill Tiana.”
I blink. Right. Information. Important information that should probably take priority over the feral need currently clawing at my chest.
“By the gods!” Orion grumbles when I don’t respond. “That bitch!”
I agree. But that’s not what’s making my blood sing right now.
“That’s not the reason you’re looking at me like that,” Kieran observes, stepping closer. Close enough that I can feel the cold radiating off his skin. “Tell me, troublesome thing. What put that look in your eyes?”
“What look?”
His lips twitch. One finger hooks under my chin, tilting my face up to his. The touch burns cold, winter against my jaw. “The one that says you want to be taken apart.Thoroughly. By someone who knows exactly how to put you back together.”
My breath catches.
“Such things,” he murmurs, thumb brushing my lower lip and leaving cold in its wake, “are made for the private.”
“I agree.” Orion’s voice drops to gravel as he swoops me off my feet, tossing me over his shoulder in one fluid motion. “Let’s go.”
I don’t fight him. Don’t want to.
The tavern blurs past as he carries me through the main room, past the bar, up the stairs. I catch a glimpse of the Morrigan watching us go, silver eyes knowing, mouth curved in something that might be approval.
Then we’re in a room. Door kicking closed behind us.
Orion sets me down slowly, letting my body drag against his until my feet find the floor. But he doesn’t let go. His hands span my waist, thumbs pressing into the space above my hips.
Kieran locks the door.
The click echoes through the room like a promise.
“Now.” Orion’s voice has gone rough. Raw. “Tell us what you need.”
I should use words. Should explain the fear and the relief and the desperate need to feel them, to know they’re real, to prove to the broken part of my brain that they’re not going anywhere.
Instead, I grab Orion by the shirt and drag his mouth to mine.
He groans against my lips, one hand fisting in my hair while the other yanks me flush against him. He’s hard already, pressing against my stomach, and the knowledge that he wants me this much makes need unfurl and sink deep into my core.
Cold hands land on my hips from behind.
Kieran.
Cold seeps through the fabric of my shirt where his fingers grip. Orion’s chest burns against my front. And my body doesn’t know which way to fall, toward the fire or into the cold.
So I stop choosing and let them both have me.
“Demanding little thing,” Kieran murmurs against my ear, winter-cold lips brushing the sensitive skin. “You could have just asked.”
“This is asking.” I break from Orion’s mouth long enough to gasp the words. “This is me asking.”
