Page 42 of A Heist for Filthy Rivals (Mythic Holidays #3)

We’re in a quiet, gray room with a plain bed and dresser. A chilly breeze whispers through balcony doors which stand half open. I can see a clothesline outside, with two shirts fluttering in the sunny air.

With a scream of relief and pain, I collapse under Ravager’s weight.

He moves off me in a second, then drags me against his chest, his hands clasping my body, his mouth pressed to my hair.

He’s muttering wild phrases of comfort or endearment—I can’t tell which, because I’m stammering and crying, trying to explain.

My tongue is unleashed from Nocturis’s spell, and I pour out the whole story in broken phrases.

Somehow, despite my disjointed babble, Ravager puts it all together.

“You fucking heroine,” he whispers into my hair. “You goddess.”

“Where are we?” I blink tearfully over the barrier of his muscled arm, trying to identify our location. We’re in the mortal realm, of course—but where?

“These are my quarters,” he says.

“Wait—Nocturis sent us to your place?” I frown. “Why? How could he know—”

“How could he know where to transport you?” croons a male voice. “How could he know where you would be safe?”

We both whip around as Nocturis stalks from the shadows of a corner, inspecting his dark green claws.

Ravager snarls with fury, pulling me close and covering as much of my nude body as he can. “You’re the bastard responsible for all this.”

“You mean the bastard who got you off the island before you were blown up? Yes. That would be me.” Nocturis gives him an icy smile. “The Stewards will believe you died in the inferno. You won’t have to worry about them coming after you for revenge. It all turned out very neat and tidy, I must say.”

“This was a very messy and unnecessarily convoluted way to blow up a fortress,” I snap.

“We discussed the reasoning behind it, little thief. If your human mind is too primitive to comprehend the intricacies of Fae politics and the delicate affairs of the god-stars, is that really my fault? Honestly, you should thank me for placing the final touches on this little love story of yours.”

“Thank you?” I exclaim. “After you silenced me?”

“Keeping you quiet about our conversation was a test for the rogue, to see if he was sincere in his affections and worthy of you,” Nocturis replies.

“What about your cruelty in condemning him to death?”

“Little thief, I left you the loophole on purpose. I wanted to see if you would live up to my expectations, and I was rewarded. Your moment of glory, carrying him to safety on your back—it was a sight worth seeing.”

I glare at him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

Nocturis shrugs. “I’ve been told that before, by far more powerful beings.”

“I thought you and the god-star never intended us to fall for each other. Why would you have any stake in our happiness?”

“It was indeed an unforeseen occurrence,” Nocturis admits. “But I happen to find a certain delight in such things, and when I saw it unfolding, I couldn’t help myself. I designed those little tests to make things interesting, and you both proved your devotion.”

Ravager disentangles himself gently from me and rises to his full height, which is nowhere close to the Faerie’s. Still, he stands his ground. “Thank you for our lives. But I think it’s time you step out of them for good.”

“Manners? From you, Ravager?” Nocturis smirks.

“Perhaps you have learned something through this little experiment. I wish you joy with the pretty thief. There’s something ineffably charming about her courage and spirit.

I’ll admit I considered keeping her for myself, and that’s a temptation I haven’t felt in years.

” He touches his chest, a thoughtful expression shadowing his features.

“I’ve made several successful matches lately, and I think perhaps I’ve been altered because of it. ”

“How fantastic for you.” Ravager’s smile is brilliant, his eyes violent.

I have no doubt he would attack the Faerie outright if Nocturis made a move toward me, and I love him for it, even though it would probably get him killed.

“Why don’t you take your eyes off Devilry and go find yourself another charming human to terrorize? ”

Nocturis tears his gaze away from me and focuses on Ravager, frowning slightly. “Perhaps I will. Fuck it all… perhaps I will.”

And then he’s gone, without so much as a breath of wind to accompany his passing.

“What an obnoxious tool,” Ravager says flatly.

Maybe it’s the relief of being back in the mortal realm, of being safe, of surviving yet another encounter with a powerful immortal being—but I start to laugh, helplessly, joyfully, tearfully.

Ravager joins me on the floor, hugging me close. He laughs, too, and when my laughter melts into tears, he holds me until I’m finally quiet again.

“Could you do something for me, sweetheart?” he asks. “Could you write a note to Witch? As the best healer for the Consortium, she won’t look twice at a newcomer like me, but if she sees a message from you, I have a feeling she’ll come here immediately to fix you up.”

He passes me the writing supplies, and I craft a quick note, along with a fervent request for Witch not to tell anyone I’m back.

I desperately want to check on Candle, but I can’t do that until I’m healed, and I won’t send Ravager to the Hearth alone, just in case the Javelins are in a vengeful mood, which they’re likely to be.

I lie on Ravager’s bed while he fetches the healer. At first I think my mind is too busy to find real rest, but the next thing I know, I’m waking out of a dead sleep.

The windowed doors leading to the balcony have been closed, and the air holds a chill, but there’s a warm orange glow in the small fireplace at the end of the room.

I prop myself up on both elbows and see Ravager crouched by the hearth, tending the fire with a poker.

He’s wearing a fresh pair of pants. The skin of his back gleams damply, and his wet hair curls around his ears.

Blinking, I lift the sheets covering my body and take inventory of everything—an easy enough task, since I’m still naked. There’s not a bruise, a wound, or a twinge of pain left anywhere. I’ve been healed thoroughly, from head to toe, and I feel amazing. Warm and whole and refreshed.

“How much did you have to pay her?” I ask.

Ravager startles. “Shit, Devil. You’re awake.”

“How much? Healing work this extensive isn’t cheap.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He rises and replaces the fire poker in its holder.

“I’ll pay you back. I’m going to try to get my share of the Javelins’ savings—it’s only fair. If they disagree, I’ll have to persuade them—”

“Devilry.” He’s at my side, closing both his big hands over mine. “I took care of it.”

“But you can’t have much money. I mean, look at this. You live in one tiny room.”

“You’re critiquing my living quarters?”

“Not exactly… I mean, it’s a clean room, but I don’t want the cost of my healing to be a burden—”

His fingers cover my mouth and he releases an exasperated laugh. “Take the gift, Devil. Consider it your payment for saving my life so heroically. Although having a pretty, naked girl in my bed is reward enough.” He winks.

Impulsively, I bite the hand covering my mouth.

“Ow, shit!” He jerks his hand back.

“Did Witch happen to mention Candle?” I ask.

“Yes.” His eyes soften regretfully.

“Oh god—is she dead?”

“No, but she had another episode while you were gone. Witch had just arrived to check on her, as you requested, so she was able to repair some of the damage. She took Candle to her own home to watch over her until your return. Witch said she doesn’t mind having Candle as a guest for a few weeks, until you figure out what you’re going to do. ”

“Did you tell Witch I’m no longer a Javelin?”

“I didn’t have to, love. She drew her own conclusions, especially after I said you didn’t want them to know you were back.”

“Of course.” I press my fingertips to my temples. Even though I feel physically well and rested, my thoughts and emotions are still jumbled. I need something to ground me, something to help me purge the restless, combative emotions in my heart.

Lifting my eyes, I survey Ravager’s broad shoulders and lean, muscled physique.

Just the thing.

“Thank you for calling Witch, and for giving me the message about Candle,” I say softly.

He smiles, the creases I love deepening at the corners of his eyes. “No thanks required. You know that. Didn’t I already prove that I’ll do anything for you?”

“Is that so?” Holding his gaze, I arch a brow and give him a playful smirk. “I might need more convincing.”

His blue eyes burn, and he leaps onto the mattress. “Let’s have a look under here, shall we? I need to make sure you’re fully healed.”

He grabs at the sheet and I squeal, holding it in place up to my chin.

Ravager runs his hands over my body through the sheet, groping my breasts, belly, and hips with a reckless hunger that turns me hot and shortens my breath.

He lowers his body on top of mine, with only the thin layer of fabric between us, and he tries to kiss me, but I turn my face aside with feigned petulance.

“I want you to fight for it,” I whisper. “Force me.”

Uncertainty flickers in his eyes. “Are you sure, after—”

After what Slaughter would have done to me. After the danger and threats I’ve endured from men my entire life.

“You’re the only one I would play this game with.” I run my finger down his forehead, along his nose, over his lips. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say ‘Annordun.’”

He grinds his large body against mine. “You’re giving me complete control?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll give me a kiss first.” His hand slides under my jaw, closing against my throat. I pretend to struggle, twisting away, but he holds me still, takes my mouth in a rough burst of warm lips and slick tongue.

“God, you have the prettiest mouth.” He drags his tongue along my jaw, kisses me again, right on the cheekbone.