Page 19 of Prey of the Lycan Queen
“It’s nap time now. I have to meet Kelly when the sun comes up,” I whine at Regan, and he climbs off the bed, but Zeke takes his place. I snap my legs shut, glaring at him, but he grips my knees. I am too exhausted to fight him as he yanks them apart. Regan falls on the bed beside me, leaning on one elbow and using his other hand to grip my chin. He turns my face to his.
“Would you have said yes if I brought cupcakes?” Zeke laughs.
“No!” I growl at him just as Regan’s warm lips descend, cutting off my protests. Suddenly there’s a hand running down the inside of my thigh before Zeke’s breath sweeps across my core.
Shivers run up my spine, and I scoot away as far as I can, my face heating in embarrassment. “Isn’t this the point of continuing the marriage trials?” Zeke murmurs, gripping my hips and dragging me back to him. He climbs up my body, hovering over me, and his lips graze mine. “Don’t you want to try all of us on for size to see which one of us makes you scream louder, see who fills you the most?” Zeke murmurs, his eyes glowing brightly with lust and a dark hunger for me to satiate, then I feel his hand skim down my side.
I gasp and shudder, forcing myself to remember I must remain firm, but he is unrelenting as he kisses me again and again. His lips travel lower until his mouth is exploring the curve of my inner thigh. The movement of his lips working their way up my thigh proves methodical. He’s searching for a weak point, yet there are none—or so I think.
Regan suddenly growls in warning, but Zeke only laughs against my skin as he leans forward and drags his tongue slowly across my wet lower lips all the way up to my clit, making me buck. “There are perks to me being a glutton, Zirah. I’ll always want more,” Zeke purrs before his hot mouth devours me. Regan, despite the possessive growl that leaves him, is patiently brushing his fingers through my hair.
Closing my eyes tightly, I fight back a shudder as Zeke plays with me, relentlessly teasing me with sweet flickers of pleasure. It feels odd, another man’s mouth dancing over my clit. It’s like a symphony in the making as the movements continue without fail.
I open my eyes in wonderment as Regan’s velvet lips dance against my body, never stopping, not even for a moment. My thoughts drift as Zeke continues to shower me with pleasure, and Regan’s lips suddenly press into mine.
A new warmth spreads throughout me, and like a raging inferno, it erupts into something beyond measure, leaving me gasping for air as it consumes every inch of me.
Heat spreads between my thighs as Zeke’s fingers push inside at a careful pace. His tongue flicks against my clit hard and fast, over and over again, sending sharp waves of pleasure rattling through my body.
My strangled moans are unrecognizable as one wave of orgasmic bliss crashes into another. I beg Zeke to stop as his grip on my thighs tightens, and my legs shake uncontrollably. He chuckles darkly, sucking on the inside of my thigh.
I shiver, suddenly feeling cold. Regan tugs the blanket over me just as Zeke moves up my body until he’s hovering inches from my mouth. His face is soft as he smiles down at me. A million words form in my mind, but nothing comes out. He takes my silence as an invitation, bowing his head and forcing his mouth against mine. “See how sweet you taste?” he purrs against my lips. “Now you may nap,” he growls playfully, falling onto the bed next to me.
I pull the blanket around me as I look between them and close my eyes. They’re both facing me, leaning up on one elbow. Their quiet words are sharp and intense as I try to rest. “You know she’ll burn you alive for touching her when she wakes,” Regan teases.
Zeke chuckles, and I feel a warm hand land possessively on my bare hip beneath the blankets. “Maybe I like the burn, brother. After all, I am a glutton for punishment.”
As their conversation fades away, my mind slowly drifts back to what happened between us. I feel a warmth spread through me at the memory of two men pleasuring me, yet those thoughts drift away along with my consciousness.
Chapter Twelve
Dawn is approaching, casting long, winding shadows across the city as I approach Kelly’s store with Gnash, Hunter, Shadow, and Regan trailing behind me. Regan has been strangely quiet since I woke up. He’s barely spoken to me since I mentioned going to their kingdoms.
Stepping into the town square, I spot Kelly’s store. At first glance, it’s no different than any other shop lining the streets of this little bustling city. There’s a curtained doorway and a window display filled with dresses and knickknacks. However, the longer I stare, the more symbols I notice etched into the windows. How did I not notice them before? I’ve spent my entire life staring at runes. Something like this should have caught my eye.
In a world where being a witch is a death sentence, I must admit, Kelly is brave. Even the colorful murals on her storefront have subtle uses of mystical symbols. To humans and those not familiar with the craft, maybe they wouldn’t notice.
As I approach the store, Kelly pulls open the curtained door, almost like she knew I would arrive early. Her raven hair blows over her shoulders like a bridal veil, giving me an unobstructed view of her high cheekbones and narrow nose. The smell of sage and dragon’s blood incense wafts out into the street as she holds the door open, and her long black dress with a moon emblazoned on the front catches in the draft.
From the outside, Kelly is radiant, but in her eyes, I see the same shadows that plague my own. She wears the weight of the same darkness that haunts me, and she looks tired and worn from years of hiding.
“Zirah,” Kelly greets me as I step inside. Her sharp eyes take notice of the darkness I carry that mirrors her own, and she smiles softly. Her eyes skirt over Regan as he stares into the mural on her storefront. “Come, there’s much to discuss.”
“Did you change this place?” Regan asks, and I realize he too is noticing the runes within the art and etched into the brickwork and glass windows. The early light of the rising sun casts the world in a blue-gray hue as I scan the street warily.
A woman with fiery red hair stands in front of the store directly across from Kelly’s. She is sweeping the store’s entrance with a straw broom but stops mid-sweep as if sensing our eyes on her.
The storefront is shabby, like many of the others, with a dilapidated sign advertising antiques and collectibles for sale. That’s when I notice the runes tangled into the sign’s border, and the moon in the front window seems to glow like a beacon at me. The woman dips her head and then nods toward the side of the square as she returns to sweeping.
Regan gasps, and I turn to see another woman sitting at a table in front of a bookshop, this one with a book propped open in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. A pair of square glasses sits perched on the end of her nose, and she’s staring fondly at the shop she sits in front of . . . but not at the shop itself. She’s eyeing the pentagram sitting above the door. There is nothing subtle or hidden about it. It’s like she is flipping off the king.
She smiles and sets her book down, turning her piercing gaze to us, just like the first woman. She tips her head and lifts her cup of tea, and immediately I look directly to the other side of the street.
Leila is in the window of the apothecary, rearranging the shelves on display. Her grandmother sways in the rocking chair out front, watching her grandson playing with a set of marbles on the sidewalk. The old woman smiles as she gazes back, and I chuckle, realizing how many of them have been hiding in plain sight.
“How?” I ask Kelly.
“Our mothers knew Litha’s death was imminent, and we were all dropped off at orphanages to hide. I was only eight but most of us were branded with our mother’s memories. Once our magic manifested, we found our way back to each other. It was Leila’s mother and grandmother who survived the initial culling of our coven and helped piece things back together. It was Leila’s aunt Flur who gave sacrifice for Litha.”
