Page 37 of In Death’s Hands (The Threads of Fate #1)
“Stop fidgeting,” murmurs Atys against my ear as I tug the lace out of my butt for the tenth time.
I stifle the urge to send my elbow into his ribs by sheer fucking will I was unaware I possessed.
It would ruin our ruse if I were to look anything but blissful at being handled by the oh so powerful men surrounding me.
Atys innocently reappeared after that dreadful woman all but fled the scene.
He wrapped his hand around my hips to get us walking lazily around the garden.
I’m still not sure I understand the complexities of their world and politics.
To be honest, I barely grasp the politics of my world.
But what Atys explained in quick whispers against my neck was that word has already spread about our meeting with Celestina, so we need to show everyone what we showed her. Mainly, how I’m just a tool to be used.
I don’t know how much the Origins here know about our visit and our goal to capture one of the Novensiles, but the looks range from curious to outright hate.
Which isn’t really an issue since we only need to seem like we fit in with this strange party and hope the Novensiles find me—the way they always seem to find me—and think us utterly oblivious to their presence.
It’s almost too easy to forget that goal here, my brain fuzzy as I walk through increasingly scandalous scenes with Nathan and Atys stuck to my sides like Velcro.
The cold shyness I felt as I looked at myself in that bedroom mirror is long gone, heated by Nathan’s wide eyes and the lack of fucks given by everyone else.
I see them staring at him, and me by extension, but no one focuses on my body.
I am not usually too self-conscious. I know I look okay enough to have people flirt with me as I pour them their daily dose of caffeine at The Muddied Waters.
And when I make an effort, I am confident I look more than good enough to have men proposition me when I go out clubbing with Joana.
That doesn’t mean, however, that I am used to parading my body for everyone to see.
Although with the amount of skin on display under the bright moon here, it’s easy to forget that I wouldn’t normally wear sheer lingerie out in public.
I stumble in my too-high red heels, Nathan’s arm around my shoulders the only thing keeping me upright. I let myself grab hold of his shirt, needing to feel something solid to fight the increasing buzz in my head, but the shirt disappears in a blazing fire.
Gasping, I hurry to check on Nathan only to find perfectly smooth skin.
Not a burn in sight. I gape, wondering how that’s even possible.
When I look at Nathan’s face, I don’t find the fearful agony I was expecting, only a long-suffering look as his eyes settle on the other man at my side.
Atys’ laugh has me swirling, fist ready to pummel his lovely face, but Nathan’s hand catches my own before it can connect and quickly tucks it around his own waist as he keeps on walking.
“You’re a prick,” he mutters.
Atys chuckles and winks at me, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes me wonder what his true motives are.
My head is too heavy though, and I let the questions drop.
It seems our little scene has barely raised any eyebrows, but Nathan’s chest on display does attract a lot more stares than before.
I would judge if my own eyes weren’t betraying me, if my own hand wasn’t using every movement to learn the softness of his skin and the firm muscles underneath.
“You need to blend in, remember?” Atys whispers. I snort, and ignore their questioning looks. Nathan could never blend in. He seems taller than most. Deadlier in the way his eyes prowl around, looking for any hint of danger.
“If that smoulder wasn’t working so well on you, man, I’d have to ask you to stop glaring at everyone,” Atys jokes as he leaves a kiss on my shoulder that has both me and Nathan stiffening.
“If those lips keep touching what isn’t yours, I’ll have to take them off you.”
Atys’ laugh is anything but afraid of what I feel is a very real threat from my friend. What isn’t yours. Those words resonate in me for some reason, although I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by them. Just that my body is my own and Atys didn’t ask permission.
Technically, that’s true, although the large male has made sure I understand what my role means and how he’ll behave with me. I was relieved to learn that nothing too shocking will be required of me. Mostly because I’m not sure I’d have said no…
I have kissed too many strangers in London clubs to feel anything but resolve about Atys’ lips on my skin.
There was a period in my life when I felt so disconnected from everything and everyone that I took any excuse to feel something.
It resulted in many hangovers and morning-after regrets.
Annnd a lot of ammunition for Joana if she ever decides to blackmail me by recalling a few on-point anecdotes I am glad the alcohol robbed me of.
It was fun, at first, but quickly tasted like ash in my mouth. The thrill of being part of a big crowd moving to the same rhythm, of being looked at and desired. From one day to the next I stopped going, and despite my biggest fear, Joana still wanted to hang out with me.
So the large crowd here isn’t what has my treacherous heart pounding. No. Because contrary to Atys’ lips, Nathan’s hand burns on me in a way my body is going to remember for a while.
Atys keeps guiding us through the various alcoves and canopies created with gossamer curtains that don’t do much for privacy.
The lush pillows scattered all over the grass are full of intricate symbols I don’t recognise.
I focus on one to catch glimpses of the written text while bodies writhe on it in pleasure.
My eyes move to the softly illuminated pool where three men are kissing and touching each other. The more I try not to look, the more I see, my blood a drumming beat in my ears as it heats up.
Swallowing hard, I avert my gaze once more and collide with Nathan’s.
The heat I feel seems reflected in his own dark eyes.
His irises are blown up to epic proportions, like twin pools that could take me to my darkest desires if I were brave or foolish enough to jump in.
He gulps as he looks away first, and I’m left staring at his moving throat.
I wonder what it would feel like to drag my tongue down his slender neck, nipping at his Adam’s apple.
I can almost taste him, my mouth watering at the prospect as I feel myself rise to my toes to bridge the painful distance.
I am seconds away from reaching the promised land when a sharp tug on my arm has me landing back roughly on my heels.
I pout, disappointed, and see that Nathan’s eyes are stuck on my lips.
I think he wanted me to reach my goal too.
“Take a deep breath, princess,” orders Atys, although my eyes are still glued to Nathan’s. “You are not yourself.”
I turn to glare at Atys, the spoilsport, but my eyes widen for a second. I knew he was good-looking, but I didn’t realise just how much. My pout turns into a new smile that he frowns at. Doesn’t he like my smile? Emotion pours into me and my eyes water.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters.
Rejection stings.
Atys holds me tighter as he brings us to an empty spot that looks like a soft heaven made with velvet and silk cushions.
There’s a small table with drinks and I saunter over to it.
At least I try to. Atys catches me and moves me to the biggest pillow I’ve ever seen.
In the back of my head, something is screaming at the way he manhandled me, but for some reason the only thing I care about right now is the feel of silk against my thighs.
I move my butt around and a soft breath escapes my lips.
It feels so… good .
“Fuck.” This time it comes from Nathan, and I smile up at him, not forgetting my plan to get my lips on him.
“Why don’t you come here with me?” I ask as I pat the pillow next to mine. But he only shakes his head as his hand rakes his hair, one strand falling deliciously across his brow.
“What is Thalnus doing here exactly?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” answers Atys, his jaw ticking.
I don’t like this. I want them relaxed and pliant in my hands.
My hands. I look at them now and start moving them along my belly, liking the feel of lace on soft skin.
My movements have my legs parting ever so slightly and I gasp at the fresh air rushing towards me.
I bring my hands to my thighs and… Oh … I like that even more.
I slowly trail a path upward, feeling ravenous.
Unparalleled anticipation makes my heartbeat quicken as my fingers get closer to an area I know will bring me more pleasure.
But rough hands capture mine before they reach their destination.
A soft cry parts my lips. Partly in protest but also because that touch heats me from the inside out.
I want more. I try to shift, wanting to bring those hands to where I want them, but they’re unmovable.
When I look up, I see onyx eyes burning with fury. I take a sharp breath as I recoil slightly but quickly come to my senses. That fury could be fun to play with. I squirm on the pillow, looking for any sort of friction that could relieve the heat still building inside me.
A growl has me shivering and my eyes close in delight.
“It sure as fuck does when it’s making her behave like this!” barks Nathan.
Behave how? I frown slightly. “Would you both stop being such bores and join me?” I demand, impatient. I’m finally relaxing a little bit and they’re ruining it. I deserve some fun, don’t I?
With that in mind, I open my eyes to find two sets of wide eyes on me. A coy smile stretches my lips as I, ever so slowly, open my legs. Bit. By. Bit.
“Fuck,” repeats Nathan, swallowing thickly. His eyes dip for a second before he shuts them tight. “Do something!” he yells at Atys.