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I gave everything to Merikh. A peacefulness lowers my shoulders and calms my nerve endings. He fought for me. He killed for me. He cut me. Marked me and took my blood. And fucked me boneless before his entire Court. He possessed me, body and heart and half-soul. Then, he carried me to the Sea and healed my wounds, showing more attentiveness and care in those precious moments than he has in all our time together.
So, I’ll be a poor man’s blood binder to Merikh’s God of Blood. I don’t need to be a goddess. I don’t even need to be immortal. A fraction of a mortal life spent with these four and our daughter, knowing she will live on to spend eternity with her fathers, is more than a girl of scars and ink like me could ever ask for.
I followed the monsters through the Veil of Souls.
I became a sacrifice, captured the heart of a dragon, and claimed his fire.
I found my surrender in the soul of a demon and felt his wind in my spirit moth wings.
I learned my power in submission and turning my monsters into the miracle fulfilled through our daughter.
And if I hold Merikh’s dark and ruined soul in the palm of my hand and restore its icy, cold shell from wherever it hides, even if I die in the process, it will mean their salvation. And it would be a blessed life. A beautiful fraction of my existence. After I’m gone, they will take our daughter, defeat Kronos, and rule as united gods with our future queen binding them.
Mayce slides an arm around my waist, and I flinch from the interruption to my chaotic thoughts. I offer him a warm smileas he gestures toward the serpentine obsidian staircase. “Come, little Tess. Let us retire. Both our ladies require rest, don’t they, Drago?” He shares a knowing look with the God of Fire, whose emerald eyes catch the candlelight, gleaming with a heated hunger.
“They certainly do,” he unleashes a growl that surges straight for my center and tightens my womb.
Oh, they’re up to something, all right.
My mouth falls open when I take a moment to look at them, really look at them.
Drago is no less strong and handsome in his rugged masculinity of warrior-level muscles and prestigious dragon wings belonging to none less than the Alpha God himself. My breath quickens at the familiar sight of his bare chest of scales and fiery tattoos—tattoos that match his long scarlet red waves.
Mayce is no less beautiful and charismatic with his magnetic Fae energy, sharp mind, and wit that can ground the other three gods. Dressed in ornate and regal robes befitting his elegant Fae race—a sharp contrast to Drago’s crude, simple breeches. Unlike Drago, not one strand of hair is out of place. Slicked back from his face, golden as treasure, and bound into a low ponytail to cascade down his back like a sunlit waterfall.
I love their history and romance as much as Kyan and Merikh’s. Their hot and wild coupling based on respect and mutual attraction and chemistry is the polar opposite.
So much I still do not know about Kyan and Merikh’s history. I can't begin to know how much was birthed from darkness and violence, possibly even hatred. I need more. I will have more. If nothing else, Merikh will give that to me. He can talk to his damn coffin if he wants to confess some unknown sins. But what I want most at present is to know more about him and Kyan.
But right now, I’m faced with fire and earth, and with the way my pussy is responding, you’d think they’re about to ignite myblood and level my insides. Wearing nothing but my tattoos is not helping to reduce my libido.
“She’s doing that thing again, Mayce,” Drago cuts in, elbowing his partner with a chuckling snort.
Mayce rolls his eyes and promptly pinches my backside, triggering a yelp and jarring me back again. “Best get your cute little bottom upstairs, little Tess, before I’m forced to bend you over the nearest object and spank it,” he urges.
Aislynn rests her head on my shoulder as I carry her up the stairs, and I learn they had just freshly fed her on the way. I smile when I consider how she survives off Fae food mixed with blood. A byproduct of her fangs and her vampire father’s tastes. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem interested in drinking mine, but I have to wonder what will happen when she begins teething.
Once we arrive at the top level and pass Merikh’s small library, Mayce and Drago direct me to Merikh’s inner chambers. I pause just outside and lower my brows in suspicion.
“Come, my Rose,” Mayce brushes his knuckles along the edge of my spine. “There is no better place for Aislynn to sleep than Merikh’s coffin. It is protected by his Blood Crest, and her favorite illusion will sing her to sleep.”
Pursing my lips, I nod, remembering how much she loves the Fae lullabies from his Court and the sight of Craynn Beythadh’s branches swinging to their rhythm. A child blessed by the Tree of Life herself. And...her mother, in a way.
Limbs trembling as I approach that coffin, where Merikh whipped me just a short time ago, I stroke the back of my baby’s head and feel her head sinking heavier onto my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her lids, heavy with sleep. A mother couldn’t ask for a sweeter baby.
I glance between Mayce and Drago, but Drago simply stands nearby with his arms crossed, substantial muscles bulging, veinsthrobbing with tension. On my left, Mayce gestures to the coffin. “We cannot open it, little Tess. Butyoucan.”
He circles one finger above the fresh blood crest on my breast. Oh. Well...to know that Merikh and I are the only ones who can open the coffin swells my relief and settles my nerves.
With a smile, I tuck my fingers beneath the lid and open it with a gusting breath. Inside, the soft and full velvet interior lining the sides and the base serves as a flawless crib for our little one. Her little wings remind me of the dawn within a crimson sunrise, the black accenting them like the night not wanting to fade.
I study her angelic face as those dark and deep eyes flutter closed in fatigue—as if she stayed awake longer just so she could see her mother.
Mayce cups Aislynn’s brow, his thumb brushing her skin as he speaks a Fae spell on her. “Sleep, daughter. Dream of a world where dragons fly with the Fae, soaring on angels’ winds under the vampires’ blood moon.”
The corners of my mouth tug into a small smile.
No sooner does Mayce close the lid upon our sleeping Aislynn than Drago grabs my hips and sweeps me into his arms. “Thank fuck! My cocks are damn near ready to explode.”
