Was this Garro’s plan all along?! If I hadn’t shown up, would he still have seduced Lukain and gone to his knees to throat him, after all those nice words?
The answer in my head is a resoundingno.
Because, at the end of the day, I am in control of these four men. This is simply the newest amalgamation of our connection—the newest understanding between me and my dhampir mates. Just like I’ve had Skar and Garro together, and Vallan and Garro, and each of these men alone, now I get to never forget the raucous session in a small bedchamber of Manor Sirenchis, withbothmy grayskins at once.
Slick juices spill from my cunt and run down my legs as Lukain punishes my ass and growls. My heavy tits slide along the sticky tabletop in my shirt, peaked nipples rubbing furiously, as I finish swallowing all of Garroway’s salty essence from the table.
My smaller dhampir struggles and comes again when Lukain keeps fingering him and playing with his balls. I come again when Master Lukain skewers my ass and ruins my insides with a harsh thrust.
I’m thrown up on the table, ready to lose my mind and unravel with both of these wicked half-bloods. Garroway drinks from my neck in small spurts, drawing new vigor and stiffness tohis cock, and he prepares to join with Lukain since my pussy is “Shamefully unfilled,” according to Garroway.
I can’t imagine both of these men together, and yet I can’t wait.Can I take it?!
I might have control over my mates in the grand scheme of things . . . but in this moment? I have no control at all.
Chapter 8
Skartovius
I can hear everything.
Noblewife Helget and Demilord Godial put our guestrooms next to each other. Mine happens to share a wall with Garroway’s chamber.
I hear every fleshyclapand moan and raspy growl as my cub and my little temptress and my half-brother busy themselves with each other. Almost like Sephania is trying to make me pay for my sins by torturing me with such lust-filled extravagances.
Last night when Garro and I arrived to aid Sephania during the assassination attempt, Vallan was with her. He wasn’t with her because his bloodsight foresaw the attack in Sephania’s room. No, they must have been fucking before it all happened.
Now this.Everyoneis getting a heavenly piece of Sephania Lock, my queen . . . except me.
I sit in my bed, stewing, jaw clenched. I have half a mind to get up, march to Garroway’s room, and demand a place in their sensual train.
I know I would be unwelcome. That’s the point.
How did it come to this?This first thought alarms me, because it’s not an enraged manifesto or a jealous reprisal. The fact I’m jealous and envious is evident, though I think Sephania would be proud of me for thinking inward for once. Thinking logically, as I try to do.
My next thought is a red herring—a false clue that tries to lead me astray and makes me grimace when I see how far I haveto go to have true empathy like Sephania does.I should never have told her about my lie to Lukain.
I know it’s not the right answer. Not the correct way to look at things. So I amend the thought, shaking my head and lowering my chin to my hands.No. I should have neverliedto Lukain. My brother. Just to get him to help us.
That is what Sephania would want to hear. It’s how I should start thinking. Rather than placing the blame on my failure to cover up the deed, I should place the blame on the deed, the lie, itself.
Does my temptress not understandwhyI did it? How it was in everyone’s best interest—except perhaps Lukain’s, who killed his mother because of the false information I wrote in my journal and pinned to his body?
I could never get close enough to Alacine Mortis to kill her. Damned below,Ishould be as pained as Lukain, because she was my mother too. Those human emotions left me many, many decades ago.
I could never kill Alacine, not because she was the vampiress who turned me—she wasn’t—but because we share the same bloodline. Shadowwalking into her realm in the Intelligence Ward was an impossibility. I got a taste of it when she thwarted my shadow portals in the Firehold, before staging her attack there and kidnapping Jinneth.
Not to mention how difficult it would’ve been to infiltrate the Intelligence Ward to begin with. She had countless spies, scouts, and agents working in her web. It would have been a death wish.
So the only way to end her was to make sure someoneclosewould do the deed. My plan was ingenious, to convince my lesser brother how much of a wicked bitch our mother truly was.
That was no lie. Alacine Mortiswasvile and corrupt. Sephania’s own mother would have died by Alacine’s torturing hands had Lukain not acted. The Spymistress would have wrungout every drop of information she could from Jinneth, about Sephania’s Loreblood and the Silverblood tincture, and then she would have executed her once Jinneth’s usefulness had come to an end.
In some twisted way, I feel Sephania should bethankingme for inciting such an outcome. Her mother is alive because of me.
But that’s not Sephania’s point, and I’d be a fool to believe it is. It’s not Alacine’s death that weighs on her soul and conscience—it’s the lie I told Lukain to get us there.
Of course, with every well-laid plan, there’s fallout. Sacrifice. In this case, the sacrifice came swiftly, once I opened my mouth and felt compelled to tell my temptress the truth.