Page 85 of Sinful Mates

Colton didn’t seem the type to hurt women, but he possessed the same propensity for dark violence like my mates. Where my men exacted revenge and violence to protect their club and shelter, Colton’s menacing presence made my body ice over.

Zethan protectively moved in front of me.

Colton’s cruel eyes lowered. “Your dick’s showing again.” Each word came out scathing and frosty. “Can you at least make yourself decent, so I don’t have to look at your scarred, deformed cock all night?”

Asshole.

A storm charged down our bond and I clamped harder on Zethan’s wrist before he descended the dais to stab our enemy through the eye with his crook.

“Flattered that you’re interested, Colton.” He tried to keep his tone civil but was unable to. “But I’m taken.”

The avatar eyed me off with a chilling stare. His mouth opened for another indifferent remark when a green glowing light below us interrupted us.

A couple dressed like a god and goddess emerged from a portal. Tall, dark, broody man with porcelain skin and eyes as dark as the bleakest winter. Arm chained around his wife’s. Pronged armor over his chest, leather skirt, and golden sandals. Damn. A lot of chest on display in the Underworld between my mate, Colton, and now new guy.Fan, please.

Colton retreated, vanishing into the darkness from which he came, like the dirty rat he was.

My body was on high alert, sending out feelers for him in case he returned to kill us all and cut us to pieces for his stupid jars.

The woman carried a toddler, two years old at my guess, eyes wide and sucking her finger. Equal parts green hair versus black draped over her shoulders. Lively green eyes that gave Zethan’s a moody glower. Slender figure, boobs heavy with milk, and longer legs than mine.

I played with the Egyptian cotton of my simple dress, feeling plain in comparison to the high-fashion runway gown she wore.

Avatars, by the look of them. No. More than avatars. Serving strong and important gods. Incredible power flowing from them.

Zethan grunted and shifted in his seat. “My second headache.”

The couple’s gaze dipped to Zethan’s groin and the woman giggled.

Fierceness snapped across the man’s gaze and his brows came down like clashing swords. “Do you greet all your visitors with no underwear, outlaw?” His hand swept over his wife’s eyes, and she scrabbled to pry them off.

Outlaw. Interesting choice of words. Those two had history too, but they felt different. Distant, as if they didn’t belong to the Egyptian pantheon. His skirt and sandals screamed Greek.

“I don’t choose the outfit, Hades.” Zethan poured two goblets of honeyed wine from a carafe beside his throne as if this was going to be a long night. “The Underworld magick dresses me.”

Hades, Greek god of the Underworld. Sounded like we were in for another showdown.

A pronged bident materialized in Hades’ palm. “Put pants on in my wife’s presence or I’ll be forced to use my bident in places you won’t appreciate.”

“Fuck, you’re a handful.” Zethan passed me a goblet and threw back his wine, dulling the surging annoyance swamping our bond.

I swallowed a laugh and sipped at my drink. Sweet and caramelly.

“Language in front of my wife.” Hades pronounced each syllable slowly and deadly.

Finally, the woman laughed and intervened. An inhuman laugh. Ancient. Breathy. She wasn’t entirely human. “It’s not like I haven’t seen a penis before, Hades. You don’t have to shield me from them.”

“Whose? I’ll kill the man!” he growled and glared at her possessively, as if she were a virgin and should never have seen such things.

She hit him on the chest and giggled. Aw. Cute relationship dynamics. Hades, the grumpy one of the pair, and his wife the calm, rational one. A bit like Zethan and Slade. Hmm. Married couple, indeed. That one made me smile inside.

The woman grinned and shook her head. “Thanks for inviting us, Zethan.”

Zethan’s legs snapped shut. Hah! She’d seen my man’s junk. Served him right for wearing a see-through, wrap-around skirt that left little to the imagination! Not that I was complaining one bit. The look suited him with his well-built legs, like that of Osiris himself, and that chiseled stomach that I was eager to run my tongue over again.

Hade’s bident creaked from the pressure of his compressed fingers.

Zethan compared his measly crook and flail against the sharp prongs of Hades’ bident, and probably realized he wouldn’t win that fight. He tossed them aside and they clattered on the floor.

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