Page 87

Malachi thrust deeper, his fingers digging into my hips. Rook’s teeth scraped against my clit, and two fingers pushed inside me alongside Malachi’s cock, stretching me wider. Khaos’s hand tightened around my throat, then moved down my body, finding my breast and twisting my nipple hard enough to make me cry out.

Blood, sweat, and black fluid mixed on my skin, creating a slick surface. The iron frame was slick with it, and the black threads were cutting deeper into my wrists, drawing more blood that dripped down onto the altar and pooled in the carved names.

“She’s close,” Rook said, his voice rough. “I can feel it.”

“Not yet,” Malachi said. “Not until I say so.”

“Fuck you,” I gasped. “I’ll come when I want to.”

His hand slid from my hip to my throat, joining Khaos’s, and together they squeezed until I couldn't breathe. “You’ll come when we let you. When all three of us decide you’ve earned it.”

The Entity’s voice rose, furious and desperate. “The heir is claimed by three. The ownership is contested. The contract cannot process competing claims. The gift is⁠—”

“The gift is mine,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Not yours. Not theirs. Mine. And I’m giving it freely. On my terms. With my choice. And you can’t fucking take that from me.”

They released my throat, and I gasped for air. Rook’s mouth moved faster, his fingers curling inside me, and Khaos’s hand slid down to join them, three sets of fingers working in tandem while Malachi thrust deeper, harder, more desperate.

Then Rook pulled back, his scarred hands gripping my hips and turning me slightly, adjusting the angle of the threads. “If the Entity wants to see everything,” he said, his voice rough, “then it’s going to see everything.”

His fingers, slick with my arousal and the black fluid coating the altar, pressed against my ass, testing, pushing. I tensed, and he paused.

“You can stop this,” he said quietly. “Say the word, and I stop.”

I met his eyes through the Hound mask and saw the question there. The choice.

“Don’t stop,” I said.

He pushed one finger inside, then two, stretching me, preparing me, and the sensation was sharp and foreign and overwhelming. Malachi slowed his thrusts, giving Rook room to work, and Khaos’s hand found my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip.

“Open,” Khaos said.

I opened my mouth, and he guided his cock past my lips, the taste of salt and skin and something darker flooding my senses. He didn’t thrust; he just held himself there, letting me adjust, letting me breathe around him.

Rook withdrew his fingers and positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against my ass, and I felt my body resist, felt the threads tighten in response to my tension.

“Breathe,” Rook said. “Just breathe.”

I breathed, and he pushed inside, slow and relentless, and the pain was immediate and sharp and all-consuming. I tried to cry out, but Khaos’s cock muffled the sound, and tears streamed down my face as Rook pushed deeper, stretching me wider than I thought possible.

“Good,” Rook said, his voice strained. “You’re doing so good.”

Malachi resumed his thrusts, and suddenly I was full, impossibly full, three cocks inside me at once, three men claiming me in three different ways, and the Entity’s hunger spiked so sharply I felt it in my chest.

“The heir is claimed. The witnesses record. The gift becomes⁠—”

“The gift stays mine,” I said around Khaos’s cock, my voice muffled and raw.

They moved together, finding a rhythm that was brutal and relentless and perfect. Malachi thrust into my pussy, Rook thrust into my ass, and Khaos thrust into my mouth, and the combination was too much, too intense, too close to something that felt like it would break me apart.

Blood ran down my thighs where Rook had torn me, mixing with the black fluid and my arousal, dripping onto the altar and pooling in the carved names. The threads cut deeper into my wrists, drawing more blood, and I felt the Entity trying to claim it, trying to turn my pain into evidence of ownership.

But I wouldn’t let it.

“Now,” Malachi said quietly. “Now, Zinnia. Break it.”

I came hard, my body convulsing against the threads, and I felt the Entity scream.

The iron frame cracked. The black threads shattered. The membrane walls tore open, releasing the suspended bodies, not dying but waking, their eyes opening, their mouths forming words that sounded like freedom.