Page 52 of Rebel in the Deep

“I’m sorry.” I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again and again, backing it up with actions. “I should have listened to you. You were right.”

They smile a little. “That’s the thing. I can’t hate you anymore, Bastian. Not when it’s clear that youhavechanged.” They transfer their attention to Siobhan. “As for you, I…I’m afraid. You’re the leader of the fucking rebellion, Siobhan. You’re in danger more than anyone else I know, and the thought of giving my heart to you, only to lose you, scares the shit out of me.”

“I understand, but we all very well may die.”

I can’t stop the laugh that bursts from me. “Very rousing, Siobhan.”

Nox inhales slowly and exhales just as slowly. “No, she’s right. We’re sailing toward nearly certain death. What’s the point in fearing a broken heart when we might not survive to experience it?”

The energy in the room shifts, somehow both losing and gaining teeth at the same time. Nox tilts their head down and takes in Siobhan where she holds perfectly still in the center of the room, the cloak still clutched to her chest and concealing very little of her strong body. The long lines of her legs are bare, and Nox takes their time dragging their gaze north to Siobhan’s eyes. “Drop the cloak,” they finally say. The three words have none of their normal playful tone.

It’s a command, plain and simple.

Siobhan doesn’t hesitate. She unclenches her fist and the fabric falls to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked. No matter how many times I’ve seen her this way before, the sight still steals my breath. She wears cloaks so often, slouching carefully to never reveal the breadth of her shoulders, the true stretch of her height. There’s none of that facade now. Just Siobhan, body carved with muscle, small breasts peaked with dark berry nipples, golden skin still faintly damp from her swim.

I’ve wanted Siobhan from the moment I met her. She exhibits a magnetic draw that I never tried to resist. That draw isn’t directed at me right now, though. It’s all for Nox.

I’m…not invited.

Sorrow hits me in a wave that I swallow down in large gulps. I’m not entitled to the intimacy, for all that I love her and she loves me, for all that I never really stopped loving Nox. The actof loving is meant to be selfless, independent of circumstance. To do anything else, to demand something in return, is to poison the very emotion.

I take a staggering step back, and then another. Neither Nox nor Siobhan looks at me, their eyes only for each other. Even as it feels like my heart is being carved out with a rusted knife, there’s a part of me that’s glad they found each other properly. Nox deserves to be loved with all the ferocity Siobhan is capable of.

My hand closes around the doorknob. One more step and I’ll be gone from this place. I don’t know what I’ll do. They don’t need me. My glamour is useful, but Threshold has operated under the assumption that glamour has been extinct for generations. Me being here doesn’t change that. Not really. Maybe theAudacitycan drop me somewhere and I’ll head in the opposite direction, determined to lead Morrigan away from their path. It will mean my death—I can’t be taken alive again—but one life is a small price to pay if it means Threshold is finally free of the iron boot on our necks.

“Bastian.” Nox says my name on a sigh. “If you don’t want this, you’re free to go, but…” They hold out a hand without looking at me. “I’d like you to stay.”

“We’dlike you to stay,” Siobhan says.

I don’t know if it’s possible to get whiplash from swinging from heartbreak to overwhelming joy in a single instant. I don’t care. I release the doorknob and start for them.

Chapter26

Nox

I don’t sigh with relief whenBastian turns from the door to face us; there’s not enough air in the room for that. I feel strange and boneless, dizzy with fear and joy in a way I didn’t know I could experience. I’ve been so damn afraid of being hurt again that I’ve put up walls between myself and my lovers, but there are no walls to be found when it comes to Siobhan and Bastian. They both see me too clearly in their own way. That seeing terrifies me, but when your life is numbered in days, hours, minutes, a broken heart is barely worth mentioning. If I experience it, then at least the pain has an end point this time.

No matter what they think, no matter the confidence I’ve portrayed to my crew, there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe the horn will do anything.

That’s a worry for another day, another me. Right now, Bastian is crossing to stand before me, Siobhan on my other side, her perfect body on full display. Even as Bastian takes my hand, I drink in the sight of her, doing my best to memorizeevery line, every curve. She’s every inch a warrior, strong and solid and fierce.

And she’s looking at me like she wants to take a bite out of me, her honeyed eyes shining in the low light of my cabin.

“I—”

“What terms would you like me to use?” she asks softly. When I don’t immediately answer, she motions to my body. “Do you have preferences?”

Shock makes my knees buckle. I manage to stay on my feet through sheer habit, grounded by Bastian’s hand in mine. I usually take the lead when it comes to sexual encounters. It’s easier that way, to tell my lovers what I need from them before they have a chance to disappoint me. For Siobhan to ask this now shows a level of care that I don’t know how to deal with.

Bastian squeezes my hand, but is otherwise silent. I appreciate that. I was still feeling out my identity when he and I were together, and what I wanted from him then is not the same thing I need from lovers now.

I clear my throat. “Uh, chest.” I press my hand to my chest and then slide it down my stomach. “Sex.”

“Good.” Siobhan makes a rumbling sound somewhere between a growl and a purr. She takes the single step that brings her close. She surveys us for a beat. “Let’s get cleaned up before we begin.”

I’ve never been at a loss for words in my life, but I can’t seem to draw forth the breath required to speak. Bastian presses a kiss to the sensitive spot on my neck, right behind my ear, and chuckles against my skin. “Best not argue. Siobhan always gets her way.”

Argue? I can’t eventhinkproperly as she leads us into thebathroom. The sensation only gets worse—better—as she catches the hem of my shirt and pulls it slowly up, her knuckles coasting over my stomach and chest, sending little zings in their wake. I’m so distracted, I almost miss Bastian’s hands on my belt, effortlessly tugging it free and sliding my pants down my legs. He gets tangled up in my boots. “Well, fuck.”

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