I wrap my hands around the back of his neck a little shyly, trying to get used to the feel of him in my arms. I’m not sure how to react to his proximity and willingness. There’s a momentary stiffness between us, like we’re both asking each other with our bodies if this is okay. Was the loss and sadness we felt as we watched each other almost die true? Are we ready to embrace the realizations we felt in those moments that, thankfully, weren’t our last?
What happened in the Vestibule changed everything. It opened my eyes and made room for my wants in a staggering way. I can feel Jerif’s hand gently rub my lower back, and I know that what happened changed how he sees things too.
Not wanting to waste another second, I wrap my palm around the back of his neck and pull him down to me. I kiss him softly, tentatively. I brush my lips against his, letting our mouths get familiar, giving him time to think about what this means and changes between us. I expect his kisses to slowly grow more confident and for us to find our rhythm together, but instead, he shocks the hell out of me by running his fingers up my sides and tracing the curves of my breasts with his thumbs.
I gasp, and as soon as my lips part, he claims my mouth with such conviction that I can feel the scorching possession of it. There’s no going back now. His tongue teases mine, telling me that he’s beyond okay with it. It was torture to watch him sacrifice himself for me, but the violent need I taste between us speaks volumes about what we’ve both survived and what we plan to do with the time together we now have.
I pull away with a smile, and his lips chase mine. “I’m going to have so much fun hate fucking you,” I joke, and his lips slowly spread into a grin.
“Not as much fun as I’m going to have purposely pissing you off so that you will hate fuck me,” he teases against my lips, and I tip my head back and laugh.
I step away from him and look around, noting the guys’ hungry gazes as each one of them watches me. Their need permeates the air all around us, and I stare, overwhelmed and suddenly at a loss for words. I knew that claiming them before was a risk. That it would change the dynamic between us for better or worse, but I had to do it. I needed to own the realization that I came to when I thought I had lost them. I just didn’t realize that they would all be so willing to claim me right back. It sends a thrill through me.
Behind us, the French doors open suddenly, making me jump. Sound and light spills into the darkened hallway, and the bronze-winged Abdicated from dinner walks inside. His presence interrupts the very intimate moment we were just having, and judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it.
His jewelry jingles as he takes us in, his fingertips stroking over his gold armor before twirling the rings on his fingers. “Ah, we wondered where you lot had gotten off to,” he states, taking all of us in and breathing deeply like he’s scenting the room. “If you’re looking for a bit more privacy, might I suggest the third floor? Eighth room on the right. Or, if you want a more romantic setting, try the eleventh door on the left. I’ll tell Taz you all are dancing. Should give you plenty of time.”
With that, he turns on his heel and saunters back out into the party, the doors shutting behind him and locking away all the intrusive sounds once again.
I stare at the door for a beat and then turn to the guys, suddenly nervous but so damn excited too. “So...which room?”
10
Unfortunately, they don’t get to answer that question.
Almost as soon as Jewelry dude shuts the doors, Tazreel comes bursting right in. When he sees us, his eyes glower, and he shoots a look at his fellow Abdicated. “I knew you were full of shit, Avarice,” he tells Jewelry, whose name I guess is Avarice. Then Taz rounds on me. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demands.
Avarice sends me a little shrug. “I tried. He was already hot on my tail and didn’t have enough Stupor in him to believe my lie.”
Taz shoots him a look. “Yes, you really should know how to lie better,” he tells him. “Dancing?” He scoffs in disbelief. “As if I would believe she would be dancing after everyone just saw exactly how graceless she is when attempting to fly.”
“Hey,” I say with offense. “I’ve never flown before, and these fuckers did it on their own,” I say, blaming it on the purple monstrosities.
He points a finger at me, going right past the flying issue. “I don’t want you cavorting with them. We spoke about this earlier, and I was serious.”
“So was I,” I fire back.
He takes a step forward, so I meet him toe-to-toe. Our wings stretch out once more as we both glare at each other. Avarice looks over at my guys who are watching worriedly. “Don’t worry, Luce forbade him from punishing her. He can’t do anything.”
“Get out!” Tazreel snaps at him.
He tsks but starts backing away with a smirk. “You need to go smoke some Stupor, my friend. Help loosen up.”
“I can’t,” Taz replies petulantly. “I have to watch this party like a hawk, or they’ll ruin my yard and try to steal my sculptures.”
I make a face. “Why would anyone want to steal those sculptures of you?”
A tic in his jaw pulses, and I know I’ve hit him right in the ego, because his wings try to fluff up, like they’re bolstering his vanity. “Any form of art in my likeness is
