Chapter 22
Ezra
Whatever the Westwaters had done to Cayden stuck.
Instead of chasing Quinn, he turned up every morning at our gates to train with Rowan, sessions that always spiraled into practicing magic with Xan in the Alun.
Cayden and Xan clashed like heat and steel, flashes of brilliance followed by tempers snapping.
Every time their arguments edged toward blows, my cock twitched with interest.
Lucky for me, on day two Cayden threw the first punch. I slipped between them, catching his fist in my calloused palm. I thought I kept my expression schooled, but whatever Cayden sensed from me made a slight blush tinge his cheeks.
Cayden and Quinn were blushers, and I discovered new goals every day.
I dreamed of them both that night and woke up hard as a steel rod. Instead of waking my lover, I breathed slowly, drawing the blood back one pulse at a time. Control. Every denied release only made the next sweeter, and I was saving it for Quinn.
Lying there, listening to Xan breathe, I reached for the scrap of shadow still tied to Quinn. Not a tether, just a trace, enough to know her shape. Right now, no shadow. She was probably asleep, buried in blankets.
Awake, her shadow shifted, restless. Mornings, Brit drilled her. Afterward, the shape dulled. Other shadows brushed hers along with objects I couldn’t name. Only once did sunlight touch her.
I slipped out of bed and went about my morning.
Our first cellar raid caught me off guard.
My lover was changing, rewriting the rules we’d always followed.
He didn’t stand back. His mind reached into the darkness, revealing who hid there and what they could do.
For one group of murderers, he unleashed fear again, but this time, none escaped to whisper of it.
None to tell the world what he’d become.
For the first time in years, the confidence puffing Xan’s chest wasn’t just the act he put on to be the Architect, but his old self.
I loved it.
‘I swear to the gods, Ezra. I don’t understand what she sees in him,’ Xan said in my mind.
Alone in my office, I let myself grin.
‘Stubborn. Clever. Desperate to do the right thing. You know what she sees in him.’
Xan sent me a mental middle finger. ‘We’re putting the collar on Rowan. Come to the Alun.’
I bolted up, not bothering to finish my current report, and rushed out of the building. Stepping from shadow to shadow, I soon found myself in the Alun, already crowded with three shirtless, sweaty men, seated cross-legged in the center.
My erection was instant and painful.
I needed Quinn to come home.
“Are you sure, Rowan?” my lover asked.
Rowan crossed his arms, muscles bulging as if daring us to test him. “I trust you, sir. I volunteered. Stop questioning me.”
“Please, just drop the ‘sir.’” Xan sounded so tired of asking.
“Yes, sir,” Rowan responded with a smirk.
My lover shook his head and snapped the slave collar onto Rowan’s neck. No ceremony. Just steel on skin. Rowan grimaced, clawing at it, breath ragged.
“It’s so cold, painfully cold.” Rowan forced his hands to still. “Is this what Quinn felt? Twice?”
“Yes.” My neck burned with residual memories. It had been almost fifteen years since I had killed my slaver and freed myself, but some sensations never left.
Rowan took a few shallow breaths before relaxing as much as anyone could in a collar. He lowered his hands, and my blood once again rushed below my belt.
Despite everything I’d endured, Rowan shirtless and collared, by choice, under Xan’s hand, dragged my imagination somewhere filthy.
‘Are you okay?’ Xan asked.
‘No. I’m denying. This tests my limits.’
My lover chuckled. ‘Rowan’s very straight.’
I put a hand on my lover’s knee. ‘But watching him with Quinn, all of us working together, will be incredible.’
A shiver ran through my lover, which destroyed what little focus I’d created. My hand slipped from his knee to inside his thigh.
“Do we need to leave the two of you?” Cayden looked pointedly at my hand.
I slowly rotated my hand back to my lover’s knee and met Cayden’s angry glare with my usual stoic mask in place. “Maybe you should join.”
Cayden jerked back, and I gave him a toothy grin.
Rowan rubbed at the collar, staring at my face. “I didn’t know you could grin.”
I schooled my features.
“Get on with it.” Rowan flexed his back. “I can’t feel the world. Everything’s deathly still. I’m not doing great here.”
I pulled my hand off of Xan. Memories from my time as a slave once again killed my hard-on. “Yes. Now.”
No one argued with me. As we practiced, Cayden and I cleared our minds and channeled our magic into Xan. I didn’t truly understand what my lover did, but the result should be the collar falling off. With a click and a pop, it loosened.
“Thank the Sun God,” Cayden breathed. “We can do this and can get ahead of Alex.”
Xan nodded, though concern still knit his brow. “It’s a start. I want to make some changes, and you need to be less stingy with your magic. All four of us are keyed to the collar; we must have all our magics in equal value to unlock it.”
“You only need my signature,” Cayden insisted. “Yes, equal amounts, but that amount is minimal…”
I listened to Xan and Cayden argue and waited, occasionally sharing looks with Rowan. Cayden was clearly not a mentalist, but he was smart, and his years of book learning and work with runes made his mind process information creatively. Their frustration didn’t slow them; it fed the fire.
“You think a rune can isolate Alex’s mind?” Xan asked skeptically, though excitement filled his baby blues.
“Yes. Runes focus power. Majekah wasn’t unique in my family; you adapted to the system, or you died.” Cayden grimaced before poking my lover in the chest. “You started this Majekah-mixing mess. Now roll in it.”
Xan arched an eyebrow. “I’m still the Architect.”
“I’m not calling you, sir. You rolling or not?” Cayden asked.
Rowan snorted, and the tension I hadn’t noticed filling the air snapped.
‘If I’m not careful, you might replace me,’ I said in my lover’s mind.
‘I hate him, Ez, don’t you dare think anything else.’
My lover turned to Cayden, and light-blue and forest-green magic began streaking the floor. Thirty seconds later, Rowan and I were forgotten once more as the two disagreed on the meaning of lines and runic language.
Infuriating. Exhilarating. Like watching shadows tear themselves apart.
Once they finally agreed, we collared Rowan and tried again.
We got it off him to various degrees six more times.
The afternoon waned. I wasn’t good at sitting still, and I found myself restless.
My attention wandered. The magic of the Alun seeped into me, amplifying everything.
I traced Quinn’s shadow as it moved through different lighting, more aware of its depths and shapes.
Her shadow vanished, swallowed by something coffin-shaped with only a sliver leaking out.
I closed my eyes, trying to understand what it was, when wisps of emotions that didn’t belong to me washed across my skin—pain sank into my back, followed by releasing pressure.
A man’s shadow combined with Quinn’s in the coffin-like square.
Her Majekah boiled under her skin. The pain moved up my back, and muscles popped, and tension snapped.
A wave of unease washed across me, followed by pleasure.
I snapped my eyes open. Something was happening to Quinn, something bad.
I couldn’t get to her. I was miles away. Except I felt her in ways I shouldn’t be able to. The Alun’s old magic crawled through me, amplifying everything even further. She might as well have been beside me. Pain and pleasure ripped down my spine until a sharp pop snapped through me.
I had to try something.
‘Ez, what’s wrong?’ Xan asked.
I cupped my lover’s cheek and kissed his lips. “Don’t move.” Locking onto the sliver of her shadow, I dropped into my lover’s dark copy and prayed.