Page 31 of The Brothers Bane

It was primal and beautiful. The urge to join them was overwhelming. To share in that connection. And it wasn’t just my own urge, but Vesh’s too, our twin desires magnified, intensifying as we observed the pair of them completing their bond.

It wasn’t until they disappeared briefly, leaving only wisps of shimmering smoke, that I could catch my breath. Their departure was barely a flicker, and then they returned, and Vesh silently grieved, long past hiding his feelings from me, not that he ever really could.

He grieved his banishment from Nemea’s embrace, from her inner sanctuary, his jealousy so profound over seeing another one of his guards let in while he remained out in the cold.

I crave that bond every bit as much as he jealously misses it.

But duty must come first.

To my left is a vanity with a mirror above it. This is the perfect opportunity to flex my shapeshifting abilities, rusty with disuse. I need to perfect my form for the upcoming heist. Mimicking Sybil’s appearance will be crucial to our success.

With a deep breath, I focus first on the familiar. I let my body shift and morph. My shape expands into Vesh’s broad shouldered figure with dark, violet-tinged eyes and short hair, complete with black trench coat and severe expression. Then I change again, muscles bulging to mimic Alcides’ powerful frame. Another shift and I am Erebus, with spiny black protrusions all over my big body, shadows curling around me.

Each transformation feels like slipping into another life—a different set of memories and emotions. Every time Vesh and Pan create copies for us to inhabit in the mortal world, remnants of the others linger since we all effectively share the same body, even if they are discrete shapes. But none of those lives feel quite right. I haven’t felt right in my own skin since I was cast into Tartarus for impersonating my sister.

“Campe,” Nemea mumbles sleepily, eyelashes fluttering slightly in the reflection behind me. “I prefer you as you are.”

Her words strike a chord deep within me. I allow myself to revert back to my most familiar form—darkly iridescent scales shimmering at the edges of my jaw and the tops of my shoulders and arms, eyes shifting with prismatic colors beyond my control. My horns return, rising from my temples to dark, twisted points.

She lies on her side, one hand beneath her cheek, her black hair a tangled mass of waves behind her. I don’t remember her removing her braid, but the sight makes my fingers itch to wrap themselves up in those silken strands.

Her tattoo twists against her neck. One tentacle coils down her bare upper arm, seeming to beckon.

I approach her bed slowly, sitting on the edge with deliberate grace.

“You should sleep,” I admonish, resisting the urge to brush a hand over her cheek. It’s a weirdly nurturing, maternal urge, yet rooted in pure desire for simple contact with this woman. Her expressive gaze is both hopeful and hungry, and she tentatively reaches out a hand, touching my wrist.

“We don’t have to sleep. I’m not actually tired.”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” My voice is low, resonant with power I inadvertently let slip.

She smiles softly, a hint of mischief in her eyes despite her drowsiness. “Yes.”

The air between us hums with unspoken desire. I can see it in her aura—bright and pulsing with want.

“You need rest,” I whisper, though it’s more for my benefit than hers. I’ve been too long away from a love like this, if I ever had one. My hunger is too great to satisfy in one short night.

“I’ll rest better knowing you’re close,” she replies, sliding her palm over the back of my hand, turning it on the covers and pressing her palm to mine. Her touch steals my breath, and I simply hold that breath, not wanting to betray how my entire body responds.

“I’ll always be close,” I promise, wrapping my hand around hers and squeezing, though part of me wonders if that’s more of a curse than a comfort. She wants freedom, not mates who are constantly watching her, constantlywantingher.

“I’m counting on it. But you can be closer. Tell me why we shouldn’t complete our bond now, before I dive headfirst into training with you.”

“Because…” I cut myself off with a wince, realizing my excuse is ridiculous, even if it’s true.

I sigh. “Because I’ve waited so long for this, for you, that rushing the bond seems like it would diminish its importance.” I take a deep breath, then add the logical part of my thought process. “But we don’t exactly have the luxury of time, do we? Still, you really should rest.”

She rises onto her knees, her scent rising with her. I inhale, taking it in deep, realizing that it isn’t just her; it’s Alcides I smell too.

It irks me that he’s still clinging to her, but I don’t begrudge him the experience. He has always been the most pent-up of all the guards of Tartarus, and I admit I’ve wanted to see him let go just once with the others. I haven’t exactly been generous with my affections myself, but I haven’t avoided them either.

Now that I’ve witnessed him with her, I think I understand him a little better.

“I told you, I’m not tired.” She takes my face between both her hands and leans close, placing a gentle kiss to my lips. The contact causes something to give way inside me; some last vestige of a barrier crumbles.

Alcides is standing guard, I tell myself. I can have this.

But it would be irresponsible to just take it without letting him know. Before she can deepen the kiss, I reluctantly push her away. “Do you have a telepathic link to him? You should tell him we’ll be engaged for a few moments.”

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