Page 54

Zareth, kneeling, watches with wide eyes. The hunger in him flares, twisted by the memory of kneeling in the psychic plane. I beckon him again. “Up. Come.” He rises, stepping forward, gaze glued to me. Eryx snorts softly, letting me move away from him, giving Zareth a chance to approach.

I cup Zareth’s cheek. “You kneel at my command, yes. But show me how your mouth can serve.” My words send a visible tremor through him.

He leans in, uncertain, then grazes a kiss along my collarbone.

The contact shivers across my skin, partly from the triumph of seeing him submit, partly from actual desire I can’t deny.

Behind me, Vaelith’s grip tightens, teeth grazing my neck.

He’s impatient, jealous. Eryx circles to my side, trailing fingertips along the neckline of my dress, a subtle threat to strip it away.

My breath catches at the swirling attention from all sides.

My mind whirls: I’m truly in control, unashamed, the center of their combined longing.

We shift onto the divan, a flurry of tangled limbs and ragged breaths.

The thick cushions sag beneath our weight, the chamber’s lamplight casting flickering gold across bared skin.

I allow them to see my desire in parted lips, half-lidded eyes.

I’m not some statue. I want them, each for their unique flavor. But I want them on my terms.

Eryx claims my lips again while Vaelith’s hands roam my sides, and Zareth tentatively explores the curve of my thigh, pressing reverent kisses down to my knee.

My senses reel, an intoxicating blend of fierce male energy all directed toward me.

The estate’s hush amplifies every sound: the slide of fabric, the catch of breath, the moan that escapes my throat when Eryx nips my lower lip.

Vaelith tries to pull me fully into his lap, but I stop him with a firm hand, turning to face him.

“Wait,” I murmur, letting the word hang in the heated air.

He locks eyes with me, frustration blazing.

I see the soldier who always demands control, but I press a palm to his chest. “I lead,” I say. “Understood?”

His jaw flexes, but he gives a curt nod, forcing down the urge to dominate.

That submission heightens the electric tension.

Eryx smirks at Vaelith’s restraint, but he too waits for my direction, an unspoken promise that I’ll turn to him next.

Zareth stands behind me, uncertain. I swivel, capturing his gaze.

“On your knees again, Zareth,” I whisper, “in front of me this time.”

He obliges, sinking down at the foot of the divan, face level with my waist. My entire body tingles at the memory of how he once tried to enslave me, and how I forced him to beg. Now, he kneels of his own accord, eyes full of conflicting longing. The ultimate transformation of our dynamic.

A dizzying wave of desire sweeps me. I slide the straps of my dress lower, baring more skin. Vaelith exhales a shaky groan behind me, Eryx curses under his breath at the sight. Zareth breathes in, fixated on my exposed flesh, hands tentative on my thighs. The power thrums in my veins.

I guide Zareth’s face closer, letting him taste the heat of my skin.

He murmurs something unintelligible, half worship, half disbelief.

My spine arches when Vaelith’s mouth finds the curve of my shoulder, and Eryx’s hands explore up my ribcage.

All three men revolve around me like satellites to a star, stoking my arousal until it’s a living flame.

Eryx’s lips graze my ear, voice thick with hunger. “Your plan is madness, letting us converge on you. But I can’t tear myself away.”

I smile, turning to brush a heated kiss across his jaw. “Good,” I murmur. “Sate yourselves, but know I can cast you aside with a word.” The flicker of challenge in his eyes nearly undoes me.

Vaelith, stifling a jealous snarl, reclaims my attention by nudging me around so our mouths meet.

The friction between us is fierce, a melding of frustration and longing.

My mind reels from the overload of sensation—Zareth’s mouth trailing my belly, Vaelith’s tongue invading mine, Eryx’s hands kneading my hips.

My heart thuds in frantic rhythm, reminding me that I hold these men in the palm of my hand.

Time blurs. My moans mingle with gasps from each of them.

Eryx strips away the final barrier of my clothing, letting the dress pool around my waist. Vaelith’s strong arms anchor me as I shift, giving Zareth full access to my thighs.

He breathes unevenly, pressing reverent kisses to each inch of skin, inching upward.

I tangle a hand in Zareth’s hair (careful to avoid that repeated phrase about raking).

A strangled sound tears from his throat, half worship, half surrender.

Eryx’s laughter rings softly as he watches Zareth. “Never thought I’d see the haughty psion at someone’s feet.”

Zareth tenses, glaring. But he doesn’t stop, enthralled by me. I hush them both with a sharp look. “Focus on me,” I say, voice husky. “Not your rivalries.”

Vaelith tugs me back into a savage kiss, pulling me onto his lap, letting me feel how hard he is.

Another wave of lust spins through me. I cling to the vantage that I control everything, but the swirl of male desire tests my composure.

They’re devouring me. I allow it, gleaning gratification from each frantic touch and breath.

Eryx finds his own angle, sliding behind me to press kisses to nape, while Vaelith claims my mouth again.

Zareth, emboldened, moves his lips higher along my belly, reaching the swell of my breasts.

My entire body trembles at the barrage of sensation.

I want them all. I twist, hooking an arm around Eryx’s neck, tugging him closer.

His chaotic energy crackles, fueling my excitement.

My free hand cups Zareth’s chin, guiding him upward until he meets my gaze.

“You kneel, yes,” I whisper, letting every ounce of triumphant challenge fill my voice, “but do you truly surrender?”

He nods, words lost in the flush of his cheeks.

A raw ache flickers behind his eyes. That’s enough for me.

I tilt forward, letting him worship my chest while Vaelith and Eryx continue their own relentless assault on my senses.

My breath comes in ragged gasps. The tension in the room arcs to a near-breaking point.

At last, I push them all away, commanding a moment of space.

Panting, I stand from the divan, half-naked, hair tousled, skin gleaming.

The three men watch me with desperate hunger.

“If you want to share my body,” I say, voice thick with power, “you obey. No fights among you. No petty sabotage. Let me lead, or be cast out.”

Vaelith swallows hard, but he nods. Eryx shrugs, that roguish half-smile returning.

Zareth bows his head, shame and desire warring across his features.

My chest swells with satisfaction. This is the partial group scene I orchestrated, not the final vow, but a demonstration that I stand as their guiding force.

I beckon them once more, letting the final scraps of my clothing drop.

They surge forward, the swirl of limbs and mouths descending into raw desire.

Heat scorches every nerve. We tumble into a chaotic arrangement—Vaelith behind me, pressing firm kisses to my shoulder blades, Eryx teasing my front, tangling with my lips, Zareth at my knees, worshiping the length of my thighs.

Their combined presence ignites me in ways I never thought possible.

I grasp Vaelith’s wrist, guiding his hand across my belly, moaning at the strength in his grip.

Eryx’s lips slide down my neck, biting gently, just enough to make me gasp.

Zareth slides his mouth along my skin, enthralled in a mixture of contrition and ecstasy.

The room spins with a storm of ragged breathing, the scent of arousal thick in the air.

Time folds in on itself as our pleasure mounts.

I alternate commanding each man—dragging Eryx’s chaotic hunger to a new region of my body, urging Vaelith’s disciplined hands to knead tension from me, forcing Zareth to continue kneeling but using his mouth to lavish every curve.

My mind reels with each wave of sensation.

I discover new corners of my own boldness, letting them see me undone and triumphant in the same breath.

When it peaks, the world contracts into pounding heartbeats, moans, and tangled limbs.

My cries mingle with theirs, a cacophony of feral release.

We tip over the edge together, each man surrendering some piece of himself to this moment—Zareth’s submission, Vaelith’s grudging acceptance, Eryx’s chaotic devotion.

My body convulses with pleasure so intense it feels like stars exploding behind my eyelids.

I grip them, each in turn, riding the wave until we collapse in a panting heap on the cushions.

Gradually, the haze recedes. The room is quiet save for the crackle of the dying fire.

We lie in a sprawl of sweaty limbs, breathing heavily.

My eyelids flutter, exhaustion and satisfaction meshing.

I glance around, meeting each pair of eyes in turn—Zareth’s wide with lingering awe, Vaelith’s heavy-lidded but protective, Eryx’s shining with mischief.

The knowledge that I hold them all is a savage triumph.

I push myself up, ignoring the quivering in my thighs. They watch me in silence, unsure if I’ll demand more. A faint grin curves my lips. “This,” I say, voice hoarse, “is how I claim power over your desires. You crave me, each for your own reasons, but I stand above your rivalries. Remember that.”

Zareth, still kneeling, flushes but doesn’t deny it. Eryx snickers softly, then nods in grudging agreement. Vaelith’s gaze flicks between them, tension in his jaw, but he keeps silent, acknowledging the vow we struck: to share me or lose me. He can’t bear losing me. None of them can.

I sweep my tousled hair aside, releasing a shallow exhale.

My body hums with lingering pleasure, a reminder of how far I’ve come from captive to queen of their desires.

“Rest if you like,” I say, stepping away.

“But we’re not done with Orthani’s downfall.

Don’t let this moment lull you into complacency. We move soon.”

Eryx sits up, a lazy grin crossing his face. “No fear of complacency from me, dear queen. I anticipate your next order.” He winks, a roguish charm in his tone.

Vaelith quietly dresses, the conflict in his eyes far from settled. But he nods, gathering composure. “I’ll return to my quarters soon. My soldiers suspect nothing tonight.” He meets my gaze. “Don’t vanish without telling me.”

Zareth, slower to rise, glances at me with an uncharacteristic flicker of reverence. “I… remain at your disposal,” he mutters, shame coloring his cheeks, but also that enthralled glint. “If you desire me to kneel again, I—” He can’t finish, embarrassment choking him.

A wave of savage pride swells in me. “I’ll decide when, Zareth,” I say calmly, reaching out to brush his cheek in a gesture both tender and mocking. “For now, remember your place.”

He dips his head in silent acceptance, reaffirming his new role in my orbit.

The trifecta formed tonight—my submission from none of them, my mastery over all—solidifies.

Each man is uniquely bound to me: Eryx’s chaotic devotion, Vaelith’s protective discipline, Zareth’s forced surrender.

I glean strength from each, turning their obsession into my weapon.

If Orthani’s downfall requires their combined might, so be it.

One by one, they rise and dress, tension still swirling but overshadowed by the memory of what we shared. Carefully ignoring their stares, I gather a spare robe, shrugging it on. My limbs ache in the best way, a dull throb that reminds me I seized all three men’s hunger for my own.

Eryx lingers near the door, exchanging a final glance with me before slipping out into the corridor. Vaelith follows, casting me a last longing look. Zareth stands uncertainly, then bows his head in grudging respect. “Until you summon me,” he murmurs.

I nod, letting him feel my power. He exits, leaving me alone with the fading embers of the fire.

My breath slows, the quiet returning to the chamber.

I’m exhausted, but victorious. The fleeting group scene told me what I needed to confirm: I reign in their hearts and bodies now, not Orthani or the Red Purna.

Collapsing onto the cushions, I close my eyes, a faint smirk tugging my lips.

They might have thought me a captive once, but the lines have blurred beyond recognition.

I feed on their devotion—Zareth’s newfound willingness to kneel, Vaelith’s stoic acceptance, Eryx’s roguish support.

This trifecta cements my position. Soon, we’ll strike Orthani’s core, sabotage the city’s war machine, and liberate Ai.

But for tonight, I revel in the memory of their combined heat, how their bodies bowed to my command.

Yes, I think. I’ve become more than just a purna on the run.

I’m a force that binds these ruthless men to my will.

Let Orthani tremble. Let the Red Purna realize I’m no pawn.

Let the darkness beyond these walls quake at the woman forging a new path—where I conquer with my body as surely as I do with my mind.

And as I drift into a heady doze, every fiber of me hums with a single truth: I am unstoppable now, with three men at my feet.