Page 86 of A Courage of the Chosen

Callahan responds hungrily.

So does Tavish.

Well, this is all kinds of fucked up.

What was it that Callahan said earlier when Paisley was staring at us?

Let them watch. I only want you.

Well, let Tavish watch as well, I only want Callahan.

My release barrels into me.

“Callahan.” I moan his name everywhere. A cry on my lips, down the light-filled tether to Callahan, and down the other bond toward Tavish.

I drag Cal over the edge as I go. Each of us coming hard as we shudder and moan together.

Tavish lurks, and basks in every inch of it. The way my body detonates and quakes, it all blasts along the dark threads.

I feel it when he comes too, not far behind us, and my mind trembles with the strength of his orgasm. His and mine and Callahan’s release mixes in my chest so that I can’t tell what comes from where.

Panting and shaking, my eyes peel open, and shame swells like an erupting volcano.

I knew exactly what I was doing when I willingly sent Callahan’s name in his direction, Tavish needed reminding of who gets this version of me.

“Well played, my queen. But that’s going to cost you.”

What have I done?

Chapter 24

Tavish

The one bright spot of these shitty caverns are the thermal pools that lie in their depths. Lit by stalactites wrapped in bioluminescence, heat rises from deep within the earth, and steam curls off the still surface of the water that accumulates here from an unknown location.

There’s a cave somewhere along here that I’ve never bothered to explore. I found this years ago, and among other things, have kept it secret, as a place I can come to when Father is being unbearable.

Being forced to live here instead of the palace is pushing him to be far more foul than usual.

We’ve had word that the little girl has made it to deliver Father’s message, but there hasn’t been any other news from our sources. It makes me wonder if Elsie has finally started suspecting the people around her. She’s smart enough to figure them out quickly.

The things slipping through her control are becoming less and less frequent, and I have to find new ways to work around her mental walls for even the smallest pieces of her. Despite me maintaining our connection almost constantly, she hasn’t willingly sent a single thing down the bond, or spoken back to me since the battle.

I hate the silence, and the chasm that’s grown between us, but her defiance is why I fell for her in the first place. From the minute I happened across her in that bar in Brooklyn, I could taste it, and that fire in her is why she’ll make the perfect queen.

A few hours ago, something slithered along the bond. Nervousness and fear. Whatever she was doing must’ve been big enough that it’s wavered her iron-clad restraint, and I’ve been pondering what it could be ever since.

With my head tipped back against the lip of the pool, I imagine her walking the halls of my palace. Do they know she’s queen yet? Do they bow to her as she passes them? I bet she hates it if they do.

I know her better than she thinks I do. Can perfectly picture the way her smile would tighten, and how she’d clasp her hands as she waited for them to finish showing her the respect she deserves.

My mind quickly slips to other images. Some of them memories, most of them fantasies, that I only allow myself to indulge in when there’s no one else around.

I picture her naked and sweating, begging for my cock with that perfect mouth of hers. I can practically hear her panting my name, like a ghost haunting me.

My dick starts to thicken between my legs.

It’s been much too long since I’ve had a taste, and the dry spell isn’t going to end anytime soon. Even when she’s by my side, I know getting her to be vulnerable with me again is going to take time.