Chapter 22
Sidney
Zane moved to cup my face, his thumb brushing away the dampness on my cheek with infinite tenderness. He didn’t speak, didn’t rush, just held me, his forehead resting against mine.
Finn’s hand found mine and laced our fingers together. The cut on my palm burned for a heartbeat before the sting faded. With his other hand, he drew feather-light circles on the pulse point of my wrist.
I drew in a shaky breath, then another. The moss glowed brighter at our presence beneath the half-moon.
Mist coiled around the gnarled roots of the oaks, their trunks silvered with age and haloed in bioluminescent lichen.
The air tasted metallic, sharp with iron and rain.
Moisture clung to my skin, cool and electric, as magic thrummed through the soles of my feet.
“We have until the moon sets,” Zane murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “There’s no hurry, Sidney. We can just—”
“No.” I met his eyes, then Finn’s. “I want this. I want you both. I just needed…” I couldn’t finish, but I didn’t have to.
Finn released my hands and signed, We understand.
Zane pressed a kiss to my eyelids, then my cheek and earlobes, and finally the corner of my mouth, each one gentle, giving me time to pull away if I needed to. I didn’t. Instead, I tilted my head, seeking his lips properly.
With his hands cradling my face, he kissed me with slow intention, his lips a tender promise against mine.
When we parted, Finn watched us with soft eyes. The weight that had pressed on my chest since seeing Bruvor eased from their support.
Finn’s smile was pure warmth as he cupped my face, tilting it up to look at him. “Beautiful. Mine. Ours,” he said.
Zane’s voice dropped lower, rougher. “I want to show you what it means to be cherished.”
“Yes. I want you both,” I breathed, the words a plea.
Finn’s hands moved slowly, uncertain. At the same time? His eyes searched mine, giving me space to refuse.
I reached for him, pulling him closer but ensuring he could read my lips. “Yes. Both of you. Please. I need to feel something good. Something real.”
Zane’s arms tightened around my waist. He exchanged a glance with Finn, and then both of them nodded.
Finn cradled my cheeks and turned me toward him.
He kissed me, and it was tentative, filled with such profound fragility that it made my heart ache.
I parted my lips in a silent invitation, and he accepted, sliding his tongue against mine with a growing, desperate confidence that unraveled me.
Threading his fingers through my hair, he held me gently, as if I might break.
Behind me, Zane’s teeth scraped harder against my neck, not piercing skin, but leaving a trail of fire. His fingers worked at the tie of my shift, and the fabric gave way to pool at my feet.
The night air caressed my exposed flesh, raising goosebumps. A surge of raw vulnerability swept over me, not just from my nakedness, but from the exposure of my very soul.
Zane’s hands shaped the curves of my body. “You’re beautiful, Sidney,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “Every hidden part of you.”
Finn traced the curve of my spine with such gentleness that tears welled in my eyes. When I looked at him, he signed, Perfect.
Their expressions said it all, full of wonder and adoration and a fierce protection. They would guard this moment and me against anything. They saw me through the illusion, truly saw me. And neither of them turned away.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.
Zane pulled me closer. “Yes, you do.” He kissed me slowly again, as if he had all the time in the world to prove it.
Finn caught my hand and kissed my palm over the mending cut from the bonding ritual.
He took my other hand, his lips lingering on that wound as well, tender and deliberate.
When he looked up at me, moonlight brushed over the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose, but his eyes held fierce devotion, a promise that he would never let anyone hurt me like that again.
Zane shed his clothes with fluid grace, shadows rising around his ankles as his bronze skin caught the moonlight. He turned and spread his cloak on the moss. The gesture, so simple and thoughtful, made my throat tighten.
I turned to Finn, my movements clumsy with urgency and affection.
I tugged his shirt over his head, revealing a chest mapped with lean muscle and old scars that told the story of his brutal life.
Against his pale skin, the freckles dusting his shoulders and collarbones were almost luminous.
I traced the scars with my fingertips, feeling each ridge to spell out his past. When I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the worst of them, a jagged line across his ribs, he shuddered.
No one’s ever… His signs were shaky and incomplete.
I signed back, Touched you like you matter? Like you’re worth gentleness? I looked up at him. You are, Finn. You deserve all that and more.
His eyes went glassy. He swallowed hard, jaw working. Then his hands moved. I do not know how to handle that information. I cannot think. My brain has leapt off a cliff. Give me a breath while I retrieve it.
But the smile on his face was trembling. He pulled me into another embrace, burying his face in my hair.
After a moment, I stepped back to take them both in, breath hitching.
My gaze dropped, drawn by an undeniable pull.
Finn’s arousal flushed a deep rose against his skin, framed by vibrant red curls.
Zane’s cock was thick, heavy, and darker than the rest of him.
My stomach fluttered with desire to have them both.
Zane’s hand found mine. We sank onto the moss together, a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Finn followed, his eyes fixed on me as if I were a sacred text he was only now allowed to read.
The moment I was prone, Finn’s mouth captured mine.
It was a prelude before he began a slow, deliberate descent.
He traced a path of fire down my throat, a journey of discovery ending at my breast with his tongue circling my nipple.
Arousal coiled low in my belly. A sharp gasp escaped me, and my back arched off the cloak.
While Finn’s attention was focused above, Zane’s touch slid between my thighs, parting my folds to find the sensitive nub hidden within.
He began to circle it, slowly at first, then with increasing pressure.
The dual sensations were overwhelming—Finn’s mouth on my breast, Zane’s expert caress between my legs.
Bliss coiled tighter and tighter like thread being wound to its breaking point.
Beneath the pleasure, something else stirred—a hunger sharper than desire, ancient and demanding. My fangs ached in my gums. The scent of their drying blood called to me, tugging at something primal I’d always kept locked away.
Zane’s pace quickened, his fingers moving with a devastating rhythm. The pressure built, unbearable and relentless. I reached for Finn, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him up from my breast. He came willingly, confused but trusting, his lips finding mine.
The orgasm ripped through me, blinding and fierce, and in that moment of complete abandon, I lost myself. My mouth left his. Before I could think or stop myself, I sank my fangs into the soft flesh of his neck.
Finn’s hot blood flooded my tongue. It tasted divine, resonating with the vampire part of me. I drank, savoring each swallow, lost in the primal satisfaction of it as aftershocks of ecstasy rippled through me.
Finn gasped, his body going rigid for a heartbeat before melting against me. Reality slammed into me. I tore back, pressing my hand to my mouth. The warmth smeared across my lips told me everything. A wave of horror surged through me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
Zane’s fingers stilled between my legs. “It’s instinct…part of the bonding. It must be done.” He shifted beside me, gripping my chin to turn my face toward him. “You need to bite me as well. And we need to bite you. The bond won’t complete without it.”
“But I—” My voice cracked. I’d lost control, attacked Finn like some mindless creature. I looked down at the blood on my hands, my stomach churning with self-loathing.
“Sidney.” Zane’s thumb brushed my lip. “Do it. The magic is stalled. Can’t you feel it? Finish what we started.”
I hesitated, my breath hitching. He was right. The bond inside me felt like an open wound waiting to be stitched. The hunger wasn’t just bloodlust; it was the ritual demanding completion. I looked from Finn’s peaceful, dazed expression to Zane’s expectant gaze.
I swallowed my fear and the disgust twisting in my gut, then leaned forward.
Zane tilted his head, exposing the strong column of his throat.
My fangs still ached for more. This time, I bit down choosing to sate this budding bloodlust. His essence rushed into my mouth—darker than Finn’s, richer, tasting of smoke and copper.
Zane groaned, tensing beside me. The pleasure was dizzying, intoxicating. I drank cautiously and forced myself to retreat before it became more.
Zane shifted and nuzzled my neck. The sharp sting of his bite gave way to liquid heat as he drank. Simultaneously, Finn moved closer, his fangs finding the curve where my neck met my shoulder on the opposite side. His bite was gentler but no less consuming.
The sensation of them both drinking from me was indescribable. It wasn’t pain, but bliss so intense it bordered on agony. Their venom radiated outward, drowning my senses in a honeyed heat. The magic wove tighter until it felt like a half-formed lock sliding one click closer to completion.
They released me in unison, their tongues laving over the wounds my dhampir healing would seal quickly. I lay shaking between them. As the tremors subsided, they shifted, moving with an unspoken synchronicity.