my clit…
Face burning at my own perverted thoughts, I began to walk in the
direction of the dining room. What was wrong with me? I glanced at Lupe
cautiously, wondering if he had somehow found a Mage or Genie to put a
spell on me. I wasn’t a trusting person normally, least of all with Nightmares.
My friendships with Diego and Mali took years to groom and mold into what
they were now. However, I felt no fear when I stare up at Lupe’s handsome
face. That by itself was immensely strange. I felt comfort when I was around
the large Shifter. Comfort and security, as if he was someone I was intimately
familiar with. My own emotions confused me.
Diego hurried to keep pace with me, giggling beneath his breath. I
resisted the urge to slap him. The last thing I needed was to be known as the
giggling assassin.
Seriously. Who fucking giggled anymore?
I frowned, stopping in mid-stride, when I noted an added weight to my
purse. Opening it slightly, my eyes bulged out of my head when I spotted the
two novels mixed in with my collection of knives and daggers. They were
most definitely not in my bag before.
The Seven Kings and I - an Erotica Novel.
An Idiot's Guide on how to Handle a Polyamorous Relationship.
“What the hell are you hinting at Ryland?” I mumbled beneath my breath.
“What was that?” Lupe asked, coming to stand beside me. My body
instantly became aware of his presence; pinpricks of desire sprouted from my
feet to the roots of my hair. Desire...not fear.
Face flaming, I snapped my purse closed and offered Lupe a singularly
beautiful smile.
“Nothing.”
Somewhere in the shadows, I could’ve sworn I heard Ryland’s familiar
husky laugh.
And then I remembered that brief moment I had seen his face…
Schooling my features, I began to walk yet again towards the dining hall.
As soon as this dinner was over, I was going to take a nice, long shower.
And kill Diego.
That bastard was currently shaking his ass at every painting adorning the
walls. Did he not realize I had an image to uphold?
“Zara!” Devlin appeared from around the corner, and my mouth watered
as I took stock of him. His hair was brushed back into a low ponytail, and his
violet tie was identical in color to my dress.
It was the same tie, I noted with smug satisfaction, that I had used to bond
his hands to the headboard. My pussy clenched at the heat in his eyes. He,
too, was remembering our time together only hours earlier.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, eyes tracing my features. They
started at my feet and slowly made their way up. I could feel the caress from
his gaze on my breasts.
Lupe cleared his throat, eyes narrowing in irritation.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. Devlin blinked, as if he had just
now realized that I was standing beside the giant Shifter.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Diego’s and Atta’s heads volleyed between Devlin and Lupe. I heard
Diego mumble, “Where’s the popcorn when you need it?”
The two men stared each other down. The air crackled with electricity as
each man exerted his will on the other. Frankly, it was the sexiest stare off in
my life.
“Just kiss and make up already,” I quipped. That drew their attention
away from each other and onto me, identical expressions of horror contorting
their faces. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Damn. There goes that fantasy.
For now.
Still eyeing one another suspiciously, Devlin walked on one side of me
while Lupe took the other. I couldn’t decipher the reason behind their pissing
match. I half expected them to whip out their dicks and measure them. Not
that I would complain.
And if the dicks happened to touch…
Bad Z. Bad.
We stepped through a golden archway and into the ballroom I had been in
before, when I had accidentally participated in The Matching. Only now, row
after row of tables lined the ballroom floor. Participants for The Damning
intermingled with beautiful women in fine dresses - The Matching
competitors. I spotted Bash’s light blond hair as he leaned forward to whisper
in a girl’s ear. His back stiffened when I entered, as if he had somehow felt
my presence, but he didn’t turn around to face me.
“I’m going to look for Mali in the kitchens,” I heard Atta whisper to
Lupe. Her words went through one ear and out the other.
Sitting at a separate table were two familiar faces. Killian, looking as sexy
as ever with his tattoos and garnet red hair. Dair was the beautiful prince I
remembered him to be, a fairytale reincarnate with his golden hair and amber
eyes.
Killian smiled timidly at me, but Dair’s brows were furrowed as he
studied Diego. Just as quickly, his expression smoothed over, and his eyes
locked on mine. They widened, slowly surveying my body.
Devlin growled beneath his breath.
“What the hell are they doing?”
“Why do you even care?” Lupe asked darkly.
And me?
Pieces began to click together, one after another. Their behavior around
me. Ryland’s cryptic comments. My own reaction towards them. All of them
All I could think was: fuck.
TWENTY-FIVE
Z
Surely this was some kind of joke. Surely the world wouldn’t be as
cruel as to have my mates be the exact people - the exact Nightmares -
I had been tasked to kill.
My body warred with my head, various solutions to my predicament
taking shape. Everything had a logical explanation. I didn’t believe in fate or
mates or any of that shit. How could I when the only two people I have ever
loved had been torn away from me? Mates were supposedly eternal, but love
itself was a thin shard of ice that could easily crumble under added weight.
Love and mates were mutually exclusive I realized, though I wasn’t even
certain if I believed in the superstition that one person was made to be with
you. It sounded like a whole lot of bullshit to me.
My reaction towards them was just a natural, biological response to
gorgeous men, I told myself. They were beautiful, sexy, and funny. How
could I not have an intense attraction towards them? It was hormones. It was
a spell.
Even my attempts at deflection couldn’t completely eradicate the truth.
These men - the brooding Genie, the shy Incubus, the kind Mermaid, the
intelligent Shifter, the angry Mage, the mysterious Shadow, and even the
strange Vampire - were my mates. I knew it as surely as I knew my own
name. Despite my skepticism, I couldn’t ignore the voice that claimed each of
them as my own. I couldn’t ignore the possessive butterflies fluttering deep in
my stomach as I glared at the back of Bash’s head deep in conversation with
a beautiful Incubus girl.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Devlin gently grabbed my arm, pulling me in the direction of Dair and
Killian, but I broke free of him as if his touch was toxic.
Not today, Sat
an. Not today.
I glanced helplessly at Diego, a couple of feet behind me, and he
immediately came to my rescue.
“Out of the way bitches. Zara needs some Z time.”
Lupe growled - actually growled - when Diego wrapped his arm around
my shoulders and pulled me towards an alcove. Devlin’s glare turned from
Diego’s arm to Lupe’s murderous expression, brow furrowing in confusion.
Oh good lord. He didn’t know. None of them knew.
Except for Ryland…
“What’s the matter sweet tits?” Diego asked in concern. I positioned
myself so that I was facing the ballroom. Fortunately, none of the assassins
seemed to be paying us any mind. Stupidly, if I did say so myself. Their
attention fluttered between the beautiful - if not scantily clad - women to the
abundance of wine and food on the table. There were not nearly as many
competitors left as there was that first day. I counted only a dozen or so. “Is
this about Mali?” he continued, pulling my attention away from the feast and
onto him. “Are you sure it’s safe for her?”
“Huh?” I asked.
Diego nodded his head towards the opposite end of the ballroom, and I
followed his gaze immediately. Two figures were huddled in the corner, and I
recognized the shock of dark hair immediately as Mali. Beside her,
expression aloof, was Zack.
The assassin.
The man with the dead eyes.
They were whispering to one another, and Mali’s eyes were wide. Not in
fear, I realized blankly, but shock.
What the hell?
“I never told her to talk to that man. It’s too dangerous.”
I watched their interaction for a second longer, just in time to see Mali
glide away from him. He stared after her for a moment before moving to sit at
an empty seat near the end of the table. His body was held tautly, like a
puppet on strings. Two girls leaned over the table, attempting to garner his
attention, but he barely paid them any mind. His watchful eyes flickered from
the food being served to the assassins watching one another warily.
Fear spiked down my spine as I took him in.
He almost seemed to be sheathed in a malevolent cloak. It didn’t take a
genius to know that this man, Zack, was bad news. Evil. That was the only
word I could think to describe him. It seeped out of him like a dark, sticky
tar.
Had he threatened Mali? Because of her relationship with Z? Why else
would he talk to her? The mere thought of him hurting her made my blood
run cold.
I could only hope that he didn’t try anything at this dinner.
Thoughts of mates disappeared from my mind as I focused on Diego. I
wished desperately that I could see his face behind the white mask. He had
always been so easy to read, and I yearned to know if he was as frightened as
I was.
“Don’t eat or drink anything,” I warned him. “You’ll never know if it’s
poisoned or not. Don’t make eye-contact with anyone. Don’t engage in
conversation.”
“Z, love…” Diego cut me off in mid-rant, his hand settling on my
shoulder. He gave it an encouraging squeeze. “This is just dinner. I doubt
anything is going to happen.”
While I wanted to believe him, I couldn’t ignore the nagging voice inside
of my gut. Why did I have the feeling that this dinner was going to turn into
an epic bloodshed?
Why did I feel like I was going to be helpless to stop it? For the first time
in my life, I was on the sidelines instead of leading the charge. It was
terrifying.
“Be safe Diego. Please.” My voice broke on the final plea, and I hated
myself for that brief moment of weakness. I had to remain strong.
Giving Diego one more cautionary look, I began to head in the direction
of the princes’ table. The last thing I wanted to do was sit next to them, next
to these men that I was beginning to believe were my mates, but that seat
would provide me with a good view of the rest of the ballroom. I nodded at
an empty seat directly in my line of vision, and Diego immediately slipped
into the chair I indicated. There were two Matching girls on either side of
him, and Bash was directly across the table.
Nobody would try anything with the crowned Mage prince only inches
away, right?
Right?
I hated this helpless feeling. I should be the one dressed as Z, not him. I
tried to remind myself that this was only a dinner and that the chances of
anything happening to him was slim to none, but my intuition contradicted
me at every turn.
Death. Death. Death.
The chant was impossibly loud, echoing on repeat in my head. I felt
nauseous.
If there was a choice between Diego and me, the mission and Diego, I
would choose Diego each and every time. He was my best friend, and I
would be damned if my second identity cost him his life.
My resolve settling, I walked purposefully towards the prince’s table. A
couple of girls were attempting to engage the guys in conversation. One of
them leaned forward eagerly, her breasts practically spilling out of her low-
cut dress, and I resisted the urge to stab her in the face. Damn her. Damn
them. Damn my own jealousy.
Mates.
I scoffed at the word. Hopefully, they didn’t expect me to love them. Sex
I could do, but love? Never again. I couldn’t possibly invest myself in
another person knowing what heartache awaited me. Love was funny in that
respect. You never really knew if the love was reciprocated until your heart
around my heart for a reason, and mate or not, they would not be falling
anytime soon.
Killian smiled brilliantly when he caught sight of me. He seemed utterly
oblivious to the beautiful girl fawning over him only inches away. His eyes
were on me, as if I was the only girl in the world. He would come to realize,
as I did, that I wasn’t the hero he so desperately wanted. I was the monster.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his stutter more pronounced than
previously. I wondered if it had something to do with the blond bimbo taking
up his personal space.
“It’s amazing to finally see the girl behind the mask,” Dair added. He,
too, was staring at me with something akin to awe.
God damn it.
Stop looking at me.
Look at me.
I leveled a glare at the girls fawning over them.
Mine.
Not mine.
Their faces paled instantly, and they scampered towards another table.
I tried to tell myself that it would be better if these men found love and
happiness with girls like them - girls who weren't me. I couldn’t be the mate
they wanted and needed. Hell, I didn’t even want to be their mate.
And yet…
The thought of them with anyone else nearly sent me over the edge. It
was torture to imagine.
My emotions were everywhere. I couldn’t quite grasp onto one without it
immediately shifting into something else.
I had spent my life hating these men, these strangers, only to dis
cover that
I was fucking meant for them. How could this have happened? Even with
Lupe and Dair, two men that I have only had one conversation with, I felt my
body heating at the intensity in their gazes. It wasn’t just lust, though there
was plenty of that too, but the need to be with them and laugh with them and
talk to them and-
Fuck!
I scrubbed a hand down my face, reluctantly throwing myself into an
empty chair between Dair and Killian. I couldn’t focus on them anymore, not
when I had to protect Diego from Z’s enemies, and Mali from herself.
“I’ve been wanting to introduce you to my brothers,” Devlin was saying
to me, a sly smile curving up his lips. Hatred briefly roared inside of me.
Had he known? That I was his mate?
Had he known?
One glance into his violet eyes - gazing at me as if I was the fucking light
of his word instead of the darkness I knew myself to be - confirmed that yes,
he was aware. He knew, and he had still left me. He knew, and he hadn’t
bothered to tell me.
Fuck.
I was feeling too much, too deeply, too quickly. My breathing was
turning shallow.
How could I have been so stupid? And how was I supposed to handle this
now?
I wondered if I even should. If I ignored it, maybe the problem would go
away. Maybe I would be able to push it into the far crevices of my mind,
under lock and key with no hope of escape. It was what I did with my parents
and S, after all.
Their deaths were now a small clenching at the top of my heart, a
pressure. It was not overwhelming or loud; it simply sat there, mildly
noticeable like a mosquito bite that didn’t itch quite enough to scratch. The
tears still welled in my eyes at times, sliding into the corners and blurring my
vision, but they didn’t fall. They didn’t make the tracks down my face like
they used to.
I remembered the happiness before, and the immense hurting after. The
guilt. The anger. I remembered when the hurt wasn't soft, but instead,
unmanageable. These overwhelming emotions kept me from standing back
up after such an intense fall.
Now that was gone. I could hold the hurt with both hands and knew I was
strong enough to survive. I found the strength to carry on, a little emptier than
before but still a glass that was half full.
I told myself that it would be easy to do the same thing with these