Page 26 of Third Offense

My mates were impossible when they set their minds on something.

I stared up at the ceiling, hoping to ground myself, but more of that opulent extravagance assaulted my senses. Gold edging that reminded me of Prince Ketos’s feathers trailed along the molding, garnishing the entire surface that would have just been a dark corner in the Reformatory. “This place doesn’t feel right.”

“How so?” Sorin asked, the teasing dropping from his tone. I’d been a prisoner all my life, so I knew when I was in a cage.

Although, this wasn’t a prison, not in the traditional sense—but something was definitelywrong.

“Don’t you find it odd?” I speculated, still staring at the golden decorative lining while Zian trailed his fingers over my shoulder. “Because I do.”

“Youshouldfind it odd,” Sorin agreed, surprising me.

I turned my head to gaze into his blue eyes. Not the wrong-blue that made up this world’s sky, but a sapphire brilliance that allowed me to see into the eternity of his immortal soul. He loved me and his love ran deeper than the ocean. The assurance of that always reflected back at me when I looked into his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat when he smiled at me, the simple gesture never failing to take my breath away.

“So you sense it, too?” I asked, feeling slightly dreamy and comforted by my mates.

He chuckled as Zian gently pushed his thigh between my legs, making me bite my lip when he pressed against my core.

“I can’t say that I do,” Sorin said, capturing my attention again while my other mate attempted to distract me with his fingers.

Zian drew his touch south over my pants and I desperately wanted him to pull down the zipper, but I didn’t dare move.

My mates intended to torment me until I told them what was bothering me and I really didn’t know how to articulate it beyond what I’d already said.

Sure, Netiri made me want to slap a bitch, but it wasn’t just her flirting that bothered me.

She’d blatantly commented on how gorgeous my mates were and did little to hide her interest, or her cleavage.

She’d leaned down to give Sorin and Zian a full view, and since their backs were to me, I assumed they’d looked.

The memory made me growl, and Zian paused.

“That doesn’t sound like a purr, sweet bird. You need to use your words.”

“My words? Since when do you need words, Zian. Netiri fucking you with her eyes said plenty already, if you ask me,” I snapped, pushing Zian away.

Except, he didn’t budge. My hands met the rock that was his chest. Underneath that thin shirt, my mate was an unmovable piece of lean muscle.

He was a Prison Prince, after all.

They both were.

Which made me even more irritated that they were playing dumb right now. They should know better that this was all too fucking good to be true.

And they should know that Netiri had overstepped her place.

Zian released a chuckle and pinned me in place with his body and hands. “Sweet bird, is that what this is about? Another female?”

Sorin swiped his fingers through his lengthy white-blond hair. His navy tats on his arm contrasted against the beautiful strands. “Little dove, do you really think we’d ever have eyes for another?” He wrinkled his nose. “Plus, she smelled like rotten eggs.”

My lips twitched, but I wasn’t ready to smile yet. “Really? Like, day old eggs, or week old eggs?”

“Ancient, disgusting molded eggs,” Sorin said, slipping his hand behind my lower back to caress my spine. His thumb made those little circles that I liked and I couldn’t help but relax a bit.

“More like rotten seaweed to me,” Zian remarked, making a face. “She kept getting too close and I had to hold my breath.”

Perhaps they were exaggerating, but I appreciated it anyway.