Page 94

Story: Tainted Hearts

"Fuck," I murmured, pressing my lips to her temple. The scent of her—sweet and musky with arousal and satisfaction—filled my nostrils, making me want to bury my face in her neck and breathe her in forever.

She hummed contentedly, nuzzling against me. "That good, huh?" Her voice was a soft, satisfied purr that sent renewed desire coursing through my veins despite my recent release.

"Better," I whispered against her hair.

The bed dipped as Callum and Rowen moved closer, their warm, solid bodies creating a cocoon around Sierra and me. Rowen's large hand came to rest on Sierra's back, his palm spanning nearly half her ribcage, while Callum stretched out alongside us, one leg casually draped over mine.

We lay like that for what felt like an eternity, limbs tangled, hands idly stroking whatever skin they could reach. I ran my fingers through Sierra's silky hair, enjoying the comfortable weight of her against my chest. Callum's fingers traced idle patterns on my thigh, and Rowen's thumb rubbed small circles on Sierra's shoulder. The air around us was heavy with the scent of sex and satisfaction, a heady perfume that kept me in a pleasant, hazy state between alertness and drowsiness.

Through the massive windows of our chamber, the perpetual twilight of the underworld cast a soft, diffused glow over ourentwined bodies. It caught in Sierra's silver hair, making it shimmer like liquid mercury, and highlighted the sharp angles of Callum's face as he gazed at us with half-lidded eyes.

In this moment, I felt something I hadn't experienced in centuries: contentment. Pure, undiluted contentment that seeped into my very bones. Outside these walls, I knew chaos reigned. The Shadow Beast was still out there, growing stronger with each passing hour. The denizens of the underworld were restless, whispering of rebellion and war. Sierra's primal heat was approaching, bringing with it unknowns that could shake the foundations of all our realms.

But here, in this bed, with these three beings who had somehow become my world, none of that seemed to matter. Here, I was just Archer—not the half-angel, half-demon assassin who served the throne, but simply a man surrounded by those he... cared for.

I couldn't bring myself to think the other word yet, even in the privacy of my own thoughts. That emotion had been beaten out of me long ago, first by my demon father, then by centuries of service and solitude. But whatever I felt for them—for her—it was powerful enough to make me want to stay in this bubble forever, consequences be damned.

"So," Rowen's deep voice broke the comfortable silence, his obsidian eyes fixing on me with familiar intensity. "What did you two find?"

And just like that, the bubble popped. Reality came rushing back in, bringing with it all the problems we'd temporarily put aside.

I suppressed a sigh, my fingers still tracing idle patterns on Sierra's hip. "Not as much as we'd hoped," I admitted.

Callum shifted beside us, propping himself up on one elbow. His normally sharp features were softened in the dim light, his pale green eyes thoughtful. "We found references to thedual nature of the weapon," he began, his voice taking on the scholarly tone he used when discussing complex magical theory. "Lightsbane and Lightbringer aren't two separate weapons—they're different manifestations of the same artifact."

Sierra stirred against my chest, turning her head to look at Callum with interest. Her movement caused her hair to cascade over my shoulder, the silken strands tickling my skin. I continued to run my hand slowly up and down the curve of her hip and waist, enjoying the contrast between the dip of her waist and the fullness of her hip.

"The texts suggest that Lightbringer is the weapon's true form," Callum continued, his fingers absently stroking my thigh as he spoke. "Lightsbane is... how would you describe it, Archer? A dormant state?"

I nodded, feeling the weight of all three gazes on me now. "More like a sealed state. The weapon's full power has been locked away, possibly as a safeguard."

Rowen's brow furrowed, the movement causing the shadows on his face to shift. "And you believe your angelic healing powers can unlock it?"

"That's where things get complicated," I admitted. "The texts are... frustratingly vague. There are references to 'heaven's blood revealing what shadow conceals,' which could refer to my healing abilities. But there's more to it—rituals, specific conditions that must be met." I glanced down at Sierra, who was watching me with those keen, intelligent eyes. "Actually, I was hoping you might help with that part."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Me? How?"

"The last time we encountered some of these ancient texts, you had an innate ability to pronounce the dead language correctly," I explained, my thumb still tracing the curve of her waist. "When you speak them aloud, something... changes. Themeaning becomes clearer, nuances emerge that aren't apparent on the page."

Sierra's expression grew thoughtful. "Like when I spoke that phrase in the library, and you suddenly understood what it meant?"

I nodded. "Exactly. There are several passages I've been struggling with. The ritual to transform Lightsbane is described, but the translation is... slippery. Words with multiple meanings, phrases that could be interpreted several ways." I looked at her hopefully. "If you could speak them, maybe we could pinpoint exactly how to complete the transformation."

"I can try," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I don't understand why I can do this. I've never studied ancient languages."

Rowen's deep voice rumbled from beside us. "It's likely connected to your heritage, little one. The abilities that are beginning to awaken as your primal heat approaches." His large hand moved from her shoulder to gently cup her face. "Your grandmother didn't just teach you to communicate with the dead—she was preparing you for much more."

Sierra leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opened them again, there was a new resolve in their depths. "When do we start?"

I exchanged a look with Callum over her head. The urgency of our situation warred with my desire to let her rest, to keep her safe within these chambers for as long as possible. But time was a luxury we didn't have.

With a sigh, I pressed my lips to her forehead. "The texts are in the library. We should probably get dressed and head there soon." My hand continued its slow exploration of her curves, contradicting my words. "But not quite yet."

41

Sierra

Iwoke with a start, my heart racing as I blinked against the dim light filtering through the windows. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was, then the warmth of bodies around me brought it all rushing back. Archer's solid chest beneath my cheek. Callum's leg thrown possessively across mine. Rowen's large hand spanning my waist.