I don't deserve love. I was born to obey. I'm nothing but a curse.
The dark thought had been implanted in Midnight’s brain. But when? Had he been a child or had he even been cursed at birth?
Our magics spun around the toxic thought, squeezing it like Willoughby’s suit squeezed him.
The thought didn’t deserve air to live.
In our arms, Midnight shuddered.
Sweat dampened the back of my neck.
Witching heavens, let me be able to free him…
Lysander paled with concentration, and Willoughby looked like he’d stopped breathing.
Hecate above, he had.
Then Midnight convulsed, as the thought shattered and the curse broke.
Branching pink tore through the roof of the academy, and roots curled through the floor. The bedroom shook like an earthquake; I was ripping it up. I forced my magic away from the Princes’.
I was in control, in the name of Hecate, control...
The rumbling settled, and my magenta slithered back inside me, leaving in its wake a blanket of tiny pink violets. Midnight gasped in delight.
Lysander twisted to Willoughby, who slumped to the side.
We’d saved Midnight, but Willoughby’s breaths were shallow…barely there.
Midnight glowed; his exhaustion was forgotten in his excitement. He leaned over Willoughby, licking up his neck like he was testing his pulse.
When Midnight’s gaze caught mine, it was clearer and fiercer than I’d ever seen it. “I’ve crept through life, listening to a voice inside myself that told me I was unworthy of love or respect. On my oath, my life is yours for freeing me.”
“Your life is your own,” I answered with equal fierceness, “that’s what freedom means.”
"Then with that freedom, I shall always be your knight."
Lysander kissed Willoughby's forehead. “Stupid elf, he never knows his limits.” When he caught my concerned gaze, Lysander added, “He’ll recover, and we’ve just pulled off magical three-way connection. Hardly the Dunce, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’d say that a three-way sounds tempting.” I smirked. “But only after I feed Midnight because Damelza was most insistent."
"I shall never feed from the unwilling. I'm not that sort of Fallen." Midnight's voice was sharp, sending tingles through me in a decidedly pleasant way.
Midnight caged me beneath him with his ash wings. Had they always been this large? There was nothing submissive in him now.
"Bones and blood, a bond is sacred. It's only equal, if you also..." He bit his lip.
"Feed from him," Lysander finished, quietly.
"Drink blood...?" I spluttered. "I believe that I ordered tea."
Midnight dropped his gaze. "It was unworthy of me to ask."
"It was most certainly not," Lysander hissed. Instantly, I was covered by Lysander's wings as well; gold mixed with ash. I couldn't help turning my face into their softness and sneaking a quick lick; both Midnight and Lysander shivered like I'd licked their pricks. Interesting. "Do you believe yourself too good to bond in such a way with a vampire?"
"Of course not!" My eyes widened. I'd known that Lysander had fed Midnight, but I hadn't realized what it truly meant. Lysander was Midnight's Blood Lover: willingly in an equal bond with him. They loved each other. I brightened, kissing the end of Lysander's nose. "Please tell me that I'll be bonded to you as well if I do this."
Lysander paled. "It breaks every Court Dictate for a fae to bond more than once."
"Lucky you're a rebel then, isn't it?"
Lysander's answering smile was as wicked as my own. "Prince of Rebels."
I knew how dangerous it was for him to identify as a rebel, when an entire tribe of fae had been executed or sent to the Wicked Reform School for precisely that.
Midnight's wings beat. "Titus..."
"Titus, everything that he forbids, and his Court Dictates, can go screw themselves," Lysander snarled. Instantly, the walls glowed with a warning hum. Lysander glared at them. "Go and tell tales to my guardian. My royal personage is no longer intimidated." He met my gaze. "Instead, one will be bonded to my lovers."
When Midnight’s fangs elongated, he grazed them down my neck.
"May I...?" Midnight nibbled and licked around my choker. "Do you wish me to hide my marking?"
"Mark me. I want the world to know that I'm yours."
Midnight's groan vibrated against my skin, and he rocked his crotch against me like he'd come at my words alone.
You didn't have familiars who'd once been vampires without knowing their dark desires.
I felt more alive, than I ever had before. Every sensation was heightened. The brush of Lysander's fingers down the other side of my neck. The scent of cherry blossom. The soft bed of feathers.
The coiling warmth inside.
"Oh, they shall know who you belong to." Lysander's sharp teeth nipped the other side of my neck.
I was surrounded by my two lovers. It was overwhelming and perfect.
Their teeth pressed at the same time on each side of my neck.
Bite me, bite me, bite...
They bit.
I arched, howling in ecstasy. Pain and pleasure melded into one molten core of need, need, need. This was right, where I belonged. I shivered, as my nerves blazed on fire. Midnight was inside me, drinking from me.
This was a service. I'd believed that I'd never be able to offer anything but death to my lovers.
But I was life again.
Lysander licked over the impressive hickey on my neck, before sinking his teeth into Midnight's throat. Midnight moaned; his hard prick pressed into my hip, and I slipped my mists down his pants to stroke his prick firmly to give it the friction, for which he was desperate. Midnight stiffened, before rutting into the mists, and my own pleasure spiraled higher and higher.
At last, Lysander pulled back from Midnight.
Why were his lips cherry red?
When Lysander leaned over me, his eyes blazed with love. Then he pressed his lips to mine and tongued Midnight's blood into my mouth. It was sweet as cream. I moaned myself into Lysander's mouth, as Midnight’s blood passed between us, uniting us.
When I swallowed, my back bowed again. Pleasure crested through me at the same time as Midnight stiffened. Lysander eased his hands into Midnight's pants to work him through the last of his orgasm.
Adoration, joy, and desire.
Midnight and Lysander's emotions crashed through me. I could feel them, but it wasn't like being bound by a Mind Curse. Instead, it was a connection like I had with my Immortals. They'd resurrected me with blood, but the Princes had now bonded me with it.
How had I ever doubted Lysander's nobility or Midnight's love? They couldn't hide now because I could feel...all of it...through the bond. And they'd known that I would and had chosen it.
Lysander eyed me, warily. "You shan't reject me now? You're truly claiming me?"
How much did I wish to kick my own witchy ass for the times that I'd led Lysander to believe that I would.
"You're my breath, heart, and Soul. Us Immortals have claimed all you Princes and I'm afraid, there's no escape," I warned.
"Really, witch?" Lysander drawled, dropping to lie by my side but feathering kisses down my jaw. "You're in my bedroom. Perhaps, my royal personage has claimed—"
"Sleep," Midnight commanded.