Page 10

Rowen

I strode through the obsidian halls of my palace, my jaw clenched so tightly I wondered if my teeth might shatter. My tail lashed behind me, the barbed tip scraping against the polished stone floor. The council meeting had gone exactly as I'd expected. Badly.

"A waste of fucking time," I muttered to myself as stomped through the halls, almost cracking the hard flooring.

The council, a collection of ancient demons who'd grown fat and comfortable on the power I allowed them to wield, had unanimously voted against sending aid to the Fae realm. My half-brother's realm.

"The Fae have always managed their own affairs," Lord Asmodeus had drawled, inspecting his nails as if we were discussing something as trivial as the weather. "If Prince Callum cannot maintain control of his own court, perhaps he isn't fit to rule."

The memory made my obsidian eyes narrow. The smug bastard had no idea what Callum was facing. None of them did. The whispers I'd been hearing, the dark energy seeping from the cracks between our realms—this wasn't just court politics. Something was coming. Something old and hungry.

And Callum would face it alone unless I found a way around the council's vote.

I paused at the base of the grand staircase, my thoughts suddenly scattering as a scent hit me. Female arousal, sweet and heady, mixed with the unmistakable essence of power. Sierra's power.

"Fuck," I breathed, my body responding instantly.

The scent was intoxicating, drawing me forward like a siren's call. As I climbed the stairs, I heard it. A high, keening moan that echoed through the upper halls of my palace. Sierra's voice, thick with pleasure and need.

The incubus side of my nature stirred, hungering for the emotional and sexual energy that radiated from her in waves.

With each step I took, I felt it washing over me, feeding something primal and possessive that lived in the darkest corners of my being.

The energy seeped into my skin, strengthening me, sharpening my senses until I could hear the rapid beat of her heart, the desperate gasps of her breath.

I didn't need to reach out with my powers to know that Archer was with her. His energy was there too, focused and intense, winding around hers in patterns of possession and pleasure. The assassin had wasted no time, it seemed.

When I reached the doorway to Archer's chambers, I leaned against the frame, crossing my arms over my chest as I took in the scene before me.

Sierra, her silver hair spilled across the dark sheets like moonlight, her body arched in ecstasy as she came apart beneath Archer's skilled hands.

The assassin was fully clothed, his focus entirely on her pleasure as he whispered filthy promises against her skin.

The sight should have enraged me. Another man touching what was mine. But the bond between us was different. Archer had been mine first, sworn to my service centuries ago. And now, Sierra was to be ours. All of ours, if the prophecy was to be believed.

I allowed myself a few moments to just watch them, to absorb the energy they were creating.

It fed the darkness within me, soothing the rage that had been building since the council meeting.

Sierra's pleasure was a balm to my wounded pride, a reminder of the power I still wielded within these walls, regardless of what the council decreed.

When they finally stilled, Sierra boneless with satisfaction and Archer looking at her with a mixture of pride and hunger, I cleared my throat.

"I'm already back, and we need to have a discussion before going any further," I announced, my voice lower and more gravelly than usual from absorbing so much of their energy.

Sierra's eyes flew open, her expression shifting from post-orgasmic bliss to mild panic in an instant. Archer, ever the soldier, simply turned his head toward me, his ice-blue eyes revealing nothing.

"Rowen," Sierra whispered, clutching the sheet to her chest as if I hadn't just watched her writhing naked beneath Archer's touch.

I pushed away from the doorframe and entered the room, the door closing behind me with a thought. "Don't bother covering up on my account," I said, gesturing to the sheet. "Nothing I haven't seen. Nothing I won't be seeing again, very soon."

Her cheeks flushed pink, but she didn't release the sheet. Stubborn little necromancer.

"How was the meeting?" Archer asked, sitting up beside Sierra, a protective hand resting on her thigh over the sheet.

I bared my teeth in what could generously be called a smile. "The council, in their infinite wisdom, has decided that the troubles in the Fae realm are not our concern."

"Bullshit," Archer muttered, his free hand instinctively moving to where one of his daggers would normally be strapped. Finding it absent, his fingers twitched with annoyance.

"My thoughts exactly," I agreed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath my weight, causing Sierra to slide slightly closer to me.

The heat of her skin reached me even through the sheet, a reminder of the fire that still burned within her, temporarily banked but far from extinguished.

"The Fae realm?" Sierra asked, her voice small but curious. "What's happening there?"

I exchanged a look with Archer. How much did she need to know? How much could her still-awakening mind comprehend?

"My half-brother rules there," I said finally. "Or at least, he's supposed to. There are... complications."

"Callum," Sierra breathed, and something in the way she said his name made both Archer and I stiffen.

"You know of him?" Archer asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Sierra frowned, pressing a hand to her temple. "I... I don't know. The name just came to me. When I was with you, I thought..." She trailed off, looking confused and slightly embarrassed.

"You thought what?" I prompted, leaning closer to her, drawn by the power that pulsed beneath her skin, stronger now than it had been even an hour ago.

"I thought that I needed him here too," she admitted, refusing to meet my eyes. "But that's crazy. I don't even know him."

Archer's gaze snapped to mine, a silent question in his ice-blue eyes. I gave a small nod, confirming what he already suspected.

"That's what we need to discuss," I said, my voice rumbling from deep in my chest. "What's happening to you, what it means for all of us."

Sierra's eyes widened. "All of us?"

"There's a bond forming," Archer explained, his fingers drawing small circles on her thigh through the sheet. "Not just between you and Rowen, or you and me. It's more... complicated."

"How complicated?" Sierra asked, wariness replacing the confusion in her expression.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "It seems that you are bonded to all three of us. Me, Archer, and Callum are all your fated mates."

Sierra's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "Three mates? Like, all at once?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"That's why you thought of Callum," Archer added. "The bond is trying to form, pulling the four of us together."

Sierra looked between us, her silver eyes bright with questions. "I barely even know him!" She growled, some of her fire returning. "He had me kidnapped just so he could get a fucking message to you."

"Just like we knew you were ours. It's instinctual."

Her eyes narrowed. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, sorting through the implications, the possibilities. Finally, she looked at Archer.

"When does he join us?" she asked, her words and tone razor sharp now. "Callum, I mean."

Archer glanced at me, and I saw the same question in his eyes. "When indeed, Rowen?"

I gritted my teeth, fingers digging into the bedspread. The council's decision complicated things, but fated mates didn't give a damn about politics. If Callum was meant to be with us, the bond would find a way to bring him here—with or without my assistance.

"Soon," I said grudgingly. "When the time is right."

Archer narrowed his eyes, not fooled by my vague answer. "He's part of this, Rowen. No matter how much you two bicker, he's her third mate. We both feel it."

"I know," I growled, my tail lashing again in agitation. "I'm not denying the bond. I'm just..."

"Territorial?" Sierra suggested, a small smile playing at her lips.

I gave her a sharp look, but found myself smirking back. "Something like that."

"Your heat is only going to get worse," Archer said to Sierra, bringing us back to the more immediate concern. "What you felt today was just the beginning. When it comes back?—"

"It'll be stronger," she finished for him, shivering slightly. "I could feel it even as you were... helping me. Like it was just waiting beneath the surface."

I nodded, watching the pulse flutter in her throat. "When it returns in full force, you'll need all three of us to survive it. The bonding will complete your transformation, unlock the full extent of your powers."

"Gran never mentioned three mates," Sierra mumbled, reaching up to touch one of the silver hoops in her lower lip. "Just that I'd go through a primal heat when I turned twenty-nine."

"Your grandmother likely didn't know everything," I said. "Although I'm not sure what isn't primal about a heat, so it seems redundant to add the word. Maybe she knew more about it than me.

Sierra opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden spasm of pain crossed her face. Her back arched, her head thrown back as she gasped, clutching at her chest.

"Sierra?" Archer was instantly alert, reaching for her. "What is it?"

"I don't—I can't—" She choked on the words, her eyes squeezed shut. "Someone is... hurting. So much anguish. I can feel it like it's my own."

A cold realization settled in my gut. At the same moment, I felt it too—a distant echo of pain and fury, traveling along a bond I'd long tried to ignore. Callum.

Archer's eyes met mine, wide with understanding. "Something's happening in the Fae realm."

Sierra writhed on the bed, her body twisting as if trying to escape an invisible force. "Power," she gasped. "So much power. It's flowing into him, changing him. Oh god, it burns!"

I reached for her, my hands closing around her upper arms as I tried to stabilize her. "Sierra, breathe. It's not happening to you. It's Callum. You're feeling him through the bond."

"The throne," Archer whispered. "He's ascending."

I nodded grimly. The Fae throne wasn't like mine, it didn't pass peacefully from ruler to ruler.

If the next in line was worthy, then the power poured into them, burning like the fires of hell's deepest pit.

It could and had broken lesser beings. If Callum was ascending now, it meant the previous ruler was dead.

Maxiun had passed on, joining my Mum and father on the otherside.

Sierra's body suddenly went rigid in my grasp, her eyes flying open.

But they weren't her eyes anymore—the silver irises had been consumed by an eerie, pale green glow.

"He needs us," she whispered, her voice overlaid with something ancient and powerful.

"The shadow is rising. It has awoken and hungers. "

Archer and I exchanged a troubled look over her trembling form. The council's decision no longer mattered.

Callum had become king, and the realms were about to collide.

I had a bad feeling that it would all be because of us.