“I’ll pack, you do you,” he says, followed by the sounds of bags being picked up and dumped onto the bed.
Zippers and clothes being stuffed and buckles knocking against each other.
I pee while he’s busy, not bothering to put my wet pants back on when I’m only going to be taking them off on the other side of the room.
He reads my mind, tossing dry clothes over his shoulder. He yanks his own shirt over his head, slipping into a dry one.
“Take only what you need from Eydis’ stuff,” he says, changing his pants and kicking a bag across the floor.
The guy gives new definition to multi-tasking in a rush. The canvas bag settles by my foot. Eydis’ rack of clothes was in perfectly neat order when we arrived. White robes at the front, a handful of more common clothes in my size at the back. I’ve worn several items already, most of them stuffed in the bag beside my foot. My bag – because Seth went shopping in Lackshir. All of them did.
Now Eydis’ things are a mess. The drawers half-opened, items spilling out, and all of the clothes rearranged when the guys scented them. I open the zip and empty the woman’s breastbands and braies in on top of the other stuff. The only things left in the drawer are rectangles of monthly cloth – that look brand new. Did the woman never have a period?
I tumble the math through my mind – because this kind of thing is going to be a pain in the ass on the road.
Almost two weeks at the White Castle, but we weren’t on the road for a full week, and we haven’t been here for a full week either. Not exactly an accurate guess, but that makes almost four weeks in Silva. I close my eyes, trying to replay my last cycle – well, not replay it, just pin down what moon phase at the time. The moon was dark, so my rough guess is any day now.
My stomach sours at the idea – though at least there’s no bubble. I would have died of embarrassment if the guys had to share those moments with me.
I shove all of Eydis’ monthly supplies into the pack. Followed by the last outfit hanging on the rack.
“Where’s your cloak?” Pax asks.
“Downstairs.”
He grabs the bags and heads for the door.
“Keep close,” he says, but I’m already in his wake with my own bag in my hands.
Everything is lined neatly beside the door. The feel of magic is heavy across the perimeter of the cottage – something I’d never noticed before.
Seth and Roarke tie the horses to the veranda railing and hurry inside.
“How is she doing?” Roarke asks, seeking me out as soon as he’s inside.
“She is doing fine,” I say.
”Fine,” Killian chuffs.
“Why?” I demand, feeling a little left out of the conversation.
“Can I try?” Roarke asks, looking directly at Pax and just waiting.
“Now’s as good a time as any to find out what she can handle,” Seth says, dragging one of the seats around to face the window.
“Um,” I say, walking backwards and putting the larger couch between me and them all. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“His power is harder on the body than Pax’s,” Seth offers, lining arrows neatly along the wall. He notches one, then puts his feet up on the windowsill and almost lazily scans over the edge of the forest.
My mind flashes with the sights, sounds, and feelings of the last time Roarke hit me with his power. It involved me falling flat on my back on the floor and moaning in ecstasy. I don’t need an audience for that.
“Not happening,” I growl. “Don’t we have to leave?”
“If we have to fight, Kitten, we’d like to know what we can do with our power. The last time I Allured near you, you almost died.”
Roarke moves to the left, so I move to the right. Him trying to get around the couch to me, and me trying to keep the furniture between us.
“Then don’t fight near me. You guys fight out there, and I’ll stay in here,” I argue.
“Do it,” Pax says.
Thane adding, “Sorry, Beautiful.”
I stop running and stare at them, my gaze hitting his and stopping my heartbeat. Thane’s outline is there then gone as the world falls out from beneath me, and heat rushes through every part of my existence.
I drop to my knees, but instead of hitting hard wood, it feels like fresh-cut roses cushion my fall, sweet and delicate and intoxicating as my eyes roll back and desire fills me. I can feel the way Roarke has opened the door, but the heat inside me is all mine. Want and need instantly entangle, then get buried under the urge to have my hands all over him, and his hands all over me. My body responds.
My muscles move on their own accord, launching me to my feet. I’m across the room and slamming into Roarke with the fire still raging through me. My legs wrap around him in mid air, putting us hip-to-hip as we hit the ground. My hands pull at his wet shirt, tearing it off him. Each button pops in quick succession, and only the leather manages to hold fast. Doesn’t matter, my hands slide down his bare chest as his fingers thread through my hair. I kiss him hard, without fear or worry or even a second thought to the three other brothers also in the room…
Until someone yanks me back.
I kick and struggle, pushing at the big arm around my middle. “Let me go.”
Roarke climbs to his feet, his breath heavy. He staggers across to the empty single seater and falls backwards into it.
That’s when I realize Seth is laughing, and Pax is smiling far too wide, given his mate just tried to have sex with his brother right in front of him.
