Page 50 of Crownless Heirs

Maelan snickered, flipping himself upright. “I think they respect me now. It’s a mutual understanding.”

A particularly aggressive honk from the nearest swan proved otherwise.

The swans noticed Sorcha and nodded gracefully, one swan fixing its ruffled feathers before leaving the three of them alone in the foyer.

“Is everything okay Sorcha?” Kyron asked moving towards her.

“I’ve been told a lot, and it’s going to take some time to process.” Sorcha felt hollow, her anger and grief all faded and she felt just an icy abyss where her heart should be.

Kyron hugged her tightly, “What can I do?” He asked softly.

Sorcha exhaled long and hard before backing away. “I think I need some sleep.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she turned, ascending the stairs slowly. When she looked back, she could see Kyron and Maelan, their faces filled with worry. She forced a smile at them and continued to her room upstairs. Pushing the heavy oak door closed behind her, she collapsed onto the plush furs on the bed. She laid there listening to the quiet footsteps from below and echo of voices late into the night. Eventually, she sat up and walked over to the balcony, pushing the door open just slightly, letting the cool night air brush against her skin.

Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow, she would begin to face the weight of it all. Sorcha laid in bed, holding the ghost of a wound on her stomach, it still burned and she wept. She cried until her eyes could no longer fight off sleep.

Sorcha woke drenched in cold sweat, crying and screaming. It was dark still when the door ripped open as Maelan ran in.

“ Are you alright?!” Maelan asked worriedly, searching her face in the darkness.

“ I’ve had a bad dream is all. I’m sorry.”

Maelan cupped her face, his calloused thumb wiping away the tears. His other hand moved the tangled mess of hair from her face, his forehead resting on hers.

“Never apologize firelight, I couldn’t sleep, anyway.”

The heat from Maelans breathe kissed the cold sweat on her skin sending shivers through her body. He was rubbing her back in gentle slow circles, as he held her.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you.” She whispered and Maelan turned to meet her lips.

His kiss was slow and gentle as he held but a creaking from the hallway caught Sorcha’s attention. Kyron was leaning in the doorway. “You’re in good hands I see, if you need me I’m right next door.”

Sorcha was beside herself. She wanted Kyron, but she also wanted Maelan.

Kyron began to push off the door when Sorcha reached for him, calling after him.

“I’m okay, Sorcha. Seriously.” His smirk was filled with mischief. “If Maelan can’t take care of you, I’ll make sure to.”

Maelan didn’t pull away from Sorcha. Instead, his arm tightened around her waist, anchoring her against his chest. He looked up at Kyron, his expression hard, but there was no anger in his eyes only the deep, exhausted understanding of two men who loved the same breaking woman.

“I can handle my wife, Kyron,” Maelan replied, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling growl. “But she asked you to stay. Move your ass over here and help me keep her warm. Her skin is like ice.”

Kyron’s smirk shifted into genuine surprise. He climbed onto the empty side of the bed, sliding beneath the damp sheets. He didn’t try to pull her away from Maelan. Instead, he slipped his arms around Sorcha from behind, molding his chest to her back, trapping her in a cocoon. She was pressed against Maelan in front, her face tucked into the crook of his neck, while Kyron’s arms locked around her waist from behind, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder.

“Better, firelight?” Kyron murmured against her ear, teasing.

“Shut up, Kyron,” Maelan muttered, though he reached across Sorcha’s waist and clapped a hand over Kyron’s forearm, locking their arms together.

“I can’t, stay though.” Kyron murmured, his voice losing its playful edge, laced with regret. “My mother warned us about sharing these rooms for a reason…” removing his arms from around her waist he stood up and turned to face her “But I’m not leaving you empty-handed tonight.”

Before Maelan could object, Kyron knelt on the edge of the mattress. He caught Sorcha’s chin in his hand, tilting her face up and his lips hungrily met hers.

Sorcha gasped into his mouth, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer as the world narrowed down to the taste of him. Instead of pulling her back, Maelan's hand slid beneath the damp fabric of her shirt, his warm palm pressing flat against the bare skin of her hip. The heat of his hand flared like wild fire against her, anchoring her to the bed while Kyron consumed her thoughts. Maelan’s other hand moved slowly up her thigh, his calloused fingers bunching the hem of her nightshirt, his thumb tracing slow, agonizingly circles against the sensitive skin of her thigh.

Kyron broke the kiss with a sharp, ragged exhale, his forehead resting against hers as they both breathed the same air. His eyes were dark, his lips flushed. He looked down at Maelan’s hand resting possessively on her thigh, then back to Sorcha.

“Remember this,” Kyron whispered, his voice shaking slightly as he forced himself to stand up and step back into the shadows of the doorway. “Because next time, Sorcha, there won’t be anything to keep me from you.”