Page 37 of A Reign of Storm and Madness

Kalix’s other arm comes up and he pulls me flush against him with my back and ass to his groin and chest. Eyes are watching us, even here in this corridor. There are still plenty of Mortal Gods and their Terra moving in and out of rooms, some in states of undress and others completely clothed. If anything, the guys look more out of place than I do.

“That’s exactly what she is,” Kalix argues with Theos, a derisive edge to his words. “As far as the Gods are concerned, Kiera is our plaything tonight. She is our prize for being their Blood.”

I swallow against a suddenly dry throat. Something moves against my backside, thick and hard. Kalix, the prick, moves his hips against me, pushing his growing erection against me as he reaches down and grips my hips, digging his fingers into my sides as he holds me in place for his ministrations.

Both Ruen and Theos look as if they could cut him down right here and now had they any weapons.

“What?” Kalix taunts, his head moving forward as he rests his chin on my shoulder and looks at Ruen. “Are you so innocent that you don’t want to see how she reacts to all three of us and not just him?” He nudges his jaw towards Theos who looks about ready to break his face.

I don’t know what to say or how to stop this strange turn of events from barreling down the track of fucking no return, but what I do know is that I need to get Kalix alone and he and I need to talk.

I lower my voice into the barest of whispers. “May I speak?” I ask.

All eyes shoot to me. Ruen’s throat moves and he jerks his head in a nod.

“I think it’s best if I go with Master Kalix right now,” I say.

Ruen’s hands curl into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t respond right away. Kalix blows out a breath right next to my ear, the sound whistling past. “Wow, little Terra,” he says. “Choosing a favorite already?” He chuckles. “I’m impressed you could be so decisive.”

“I am not choosing,” I snap before I can withhold the bitterness in my voice and stop the second I realize it. Sucking in another breath, I blow it out before I begin talking again.

“I am not choosing,” I say again, this time far calmer. “I am yours—all of yours—but I believe that if I am to prove to Lord Dolos that I’ve learned my lesson then this is the path I must go.”

Theos steps closer and Kalix moves back against the wall, drawing me away from him as he settles into the space with me now gripped firmly in his arms. Theos stops and glares at his brother for a moment before lifting those sunset eyes to meet mine.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks me.

Not at all.

“Yes,” I say. “Kalix is feared the most by Terra and other Mortal Gods. If Dolos sees me at his side, doing as he commands then he’ll surely believe that I’ve been thoroughly punished and know my place once more.”

Theos looks a bit ill at my words, but after a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, he nods. “Then we will respect your decision.” He looks to Ruen, but when the midnight-eyed Darkhaven has nothing to say, Theos looks back to me.

“Ruen and I can’t leave until the festivities are well underway,” he tells me. “So, we’ll be around, but we’ll head to the green room where some of the more … conservative Gods and Mortal Gods are. Find us there when you’re done doing what you have to.”

“Thank you.”

Ruen doesn’t say another word as he turns and stalks off down the corridor, not even bothering to wait for Theos.

Theos, to my surprise, turns back to me and leans forward, cupping my cheek in his hand as his mouth brushes against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle, far from that night we had together. It’s nice, though, and sometimes nice is needed. So, I let him kiss me and I kiss him back, opening my mouth for him in a way that has him deepening our connection. His tongue slides over my bottom lip before slipping inside. Sparks dance along my nerve endings. A rough sound of feminine annoyance and rage hit my ears, but Theos doesn’t look up and so neither do I. He continues to steadily kiss me stupid and the feminine noise of outrage fades as stomping footsteps echo back to us. I’m only dimly aware as Theos withdraws his tongue and then just as he’d started the kiss, he brushes his mouth against mine, one, two, three times.

He’s gone far too fast. Disappearing in the direction of Ruen so quickly I didn’t even get a chance to truly feel the bizarre sensation of having Kalix’s cock rubbing against my ass with his arms wrapped around my hips, holding me pinned in his grip as his brother kissed me. The immoral action should have left me feeling disgusted, but it doesn’t. Quite the opposite.

“Now, then,” Kalix says, breathing against my neck as he reaches up and brushes my hair out of the way for him to lay his own kiss on my nape. “Shall we talk about your deceit before or after we put on a show for the Gods and Mortal Gods of our illustrious Academy, Kiera Nezerac?”

Chapter 22

Kiera

Kalix Darkhaven is a prick, and he’s toying with me. Now that I’ve been jolted out of my own damned head and fear, I find the anger rising once more. Hot and uncomfortable, like boiling alive inside my own hate, I let it fester as Kalix’s hands traverse my body. Up and down my sides, his hands slip beneath the sheer fabric of my dress.

He never takes his fingers too far, which surprises me. I expect him to rip the cups of my bra away and even the tiny scrap of fabric between my legs and fuck me right here—standing against the wall. He doesn’t. Kalix merely pets and breathes against my skin as he hums in the back of his throat. It takes several long minutes of this before I realize what he’s waiting for. Me.

“Come on,” I say, lifting myself away from his hold and knowing I’m right when he lets me go easily. “I want to get this over with.”

Kalix’s smile is blinding and even more irritating when he uses it on me, so I avoid looking directly at it, choosing instead to peer at the front of his throat or even at the snake embroidered on his chest. With a low chuckle that makes my stomach do strange flips, Kalix pushes away from the wall and stands to his full height as he reaches for my hand instead of my arm.

He tugs me back the way we’d come. I trail after him, letting him steer me this way and that. We move back through the rooms, the sounds of blissful moans echoing all around. Then behind them, there are a few startled cries—caused, I assume, by shock and pain. Each one slides into me like a damn poisoned knife.

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