Page 15 of Tarnished Embers

“What’s the time?” I ask, my voice thick, and I swallow against the dryness in my mouth.Shit, what if I snored? Or dribbled on Oct?I glance to the side to check, not seeing any obvious wet patch on his shoulder, then let out a slow breath, aware of their eyes on me.

“It’s about five-thirty, I think,” Kit says, getting out of the car and holding his hand out for me. “Maybe an early dinner and then bed?”

Heat pools in my core when his storm-filled eyes look me over as he helps me out of the car. My fingers grip his tightly and he pulls me close, his scent enveloping me until it’s all I can smell. I sink into him, knowing that my dad and Odette are still out.

“Sounds good,” I reply, the rest of my tiredness disappearing as lust fills my veins, and I wonder who the fuck this brazen girl is. I know he had a double meaning, that he was hinting at the promise he and Oct made to me this morning, and rather than shy away like I know I should, like my mind tells me I should, I’m agreeing. Heat radiates through my chest, my limbs feeling light as I sink into the feeling of someone else taking over the reins of my life while I’m allowed to finally be myself.

“Sounds more than good, little sis,” Oct whispers in my ear, and a shiver has my nipples pebbling and goosebumps covering my skin.

“Come on, you two, let’s get Cinders inside and then we can see what happens later,” Cas says, ever looking out for me, and he pulls me from the twins towards the house. “Odette texted, she and your dad won’t be back 'til late, so it’s just us tonight.”

Oh god, my mind goes in all the wrong directions after he says that, dinner utterly forgotten as I imagine all the other things we could get up to. Seems like my new stepbrothers have turned me into a horny mess, and the worst part? I don’t even care.

I vowed to myself this year that I’d start living, that I’d embrace whatever life throws at me, and stop letting the death of my mother colour everything in shades of sadness. I wonder what she’d think of me and the guys. I think maybe she would’ve been happy, maybe even proud regardless of the taboo nature of the things that have happened between me and the guys so far.

She always used to tell me that life won’t wait around and that the only thing you can do is live. Plus, she was a massive hippy, and I think she’d subscribe wholeheartedly to the whole love is love thing.

“I could make something to eat, if you’d like?” I suggest to them as we enter the dark house and I lead them down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“You can cook?” Cas teases, his brows raised, and I huff out a laugh.

“What? Because I live in this big house there’s no way I know how to cook?” I question, pausing in the doorway to the kitchen, hand on my hip as he continues to clasp my other in his warm palm. “I’ll have you know, Cas I-don’t-know-your-last-name, that I make a mean omelette,” I tell him, flicking the light switch on.

“Scott. Caspian Rudy Scott and I’m from New York. My favorite food is pizza or pasta and my favorite color is red.” I giggle as he spins me, pulling me into his body in a way that has mine lighting up and leaving me breathless. “I love walking in Central Park, any Park or green space really, and I play the guitar.”

I squeal as I’m torn from his embrace, and Oct is suddenly there standing in front of me. “Octavius Dante Johnson and, as you know, I’m from the sunshine coast itself. I love walks on the beach, surfing, ice cream, and playing video games.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I tease, my smile wide as he grins boyishly back at me.

There’s a warmth at my back and Oct turns me slowly until Kit is in front of me.

“Christopher–much prefer Kit–Adam Johnson, also from California. I like history, and discovering where we came from and who walked the earth before us fascinates me. I also enjoy going to the beach, sailing, and watching sunsets with pretty girls.” He swipes a piece of my hair behind my ear, and I feel the heat of a blush staining my cheeks.

Then I’m tugged from between the twins and Prince is standing in front of me. He’s the most mysterious to me since I barely know a thing about him, and I’m desperate for any scraps he gives me.

“Prince–I will never tell you my real name–Marshall Brown.” He yanks my hand again and I land against his chest, my palm splayed across the soft, cashmere jumper he’s wearing. My heart thuds loudly in my chest, anticipation leaving me giddy and breathless. “I enjoy getting new ink and giving people tattoos.” My eyes widen at his words, my mouth parting in delighted surprise. He’s an artist too? “That’s right, Sugar, I can draw too. I gave these assholes all their ink.” He smirks and the others chuckle. “And I’ll happily give you some,ifyou’re a good girl for me.” I take in a sharp breath, his jewel-like eyes roving over my face, drinking me in. “But I’ll choose the design.”

My spine snaps straight then, my lids lowering in a glare.

“It’s my body, Prince. If I want a tattoo, I’ll be the one to choose the design.” His nostrils flare and then his lips tilt up into a grin that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow is.

“Oh, darlin',” he purrs, one hand coming up and lightly circling my throat, effectively scattering any brain cells I own to the four winds. “It may be your body, but it belongs to me, to us, so what happens to it is our choice.” I shouldn’t be turned on right now. He’s just taken my autonomy away. I should rage and be spitting mad, but the anger just won’t come. I feel myself relax in his hold, my body sinking into him, and his smirk turns into a wolfish grin that leaves my core clenching. “Exactly so. Now let’s see if we can’t rustle up something a little more exciting than an omelette for our girl, shall we?”

Our girl.

I can’t even register that he’s being offensive about my cooking skills. He called me their girl, and on top of all the other things they’ve said, the way they’ve claimed me so quickly, I’m starting to believe that maybe I do belong to them.

Does that mean they belong to me? That I own them back?

* * *

“MOONLIGHT” BY CHASE ATLANTIC

OCT

“Hey, stop thinking so hard, little sis,” I chide Ember as the others get to work on making our dinner. I’ve never been much of a cook, but Prince is a fucking genius in the kitchen, and Kit and Cas enjoy helping, so I’ll keep our girl entertained.

Our girl. I like the sound of it. I like having something that truly belongs to us, even if she was a gift from Odette, the wicked bitch from the west.

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