Chapter 25
Morpheus
Maliki…
My head is throbbing, and there’s a stinging sensation radiating up through my wrist that will not cease.
All because of a knife.
Fuck. Maliki’s antics make me feel almost mortal.
Except a mortal wouldn’t have survived such a trick.
Pushing up from the ground, I clench my teeth and force myself to my feet. Brushing the debris from my dress pants, I fix my shirt and reroll the sleeves to my elbows.
It’s all a stalling tactic while I attempt to tame the ringing in my ears. Alas, it’s still there as I start up the path to the cabin door.
My fingers curl and uncurl, the fists seeming to form of their own accord. Because I really, really want to punch Maliki in the face.
Then drag him into a nightmare to teach him just what I can do as his God.
The rebellious fae is waiting for me when I enter, his damp hair and shirtless state suggesting he just exited the shower.
“How long was I out?” I demand.
He lifts a muscular shoulder, then holds out a cup of coffee like it’s some sort of peace offering. “Longer than I expected, but also not long enough.”
My jaw ticks.
He must notice because his lips curl into a playful grin. “It’s not fun feeling helpless to our fate, is it, God of Dreams?”
“You’ve never been helpless, Enforcer.”
“Not being able to shadow home makes me feel helpless, Morpheus. Just as I assume being paralyzed by venom does the same to you.” He steps into my personal space and presses the mug against my chest. “So the next time you want to mist me somewhere without asking, remember that I will always return the favor.”
I grab the hand holding the coffee cup, then wrap my palm around his nape before he can leave my space. “You’re lucky we share a mate, Maliki. Or I would drag you into a nightmare right now and never let you fucking wake up.”
He doesn’t try to escape me, just stares me down with his intense golden irises. “I’m not afraid of you, God of Dreams.”
“You should be,” I say, voice low. “But I like that you’re not. It’ll make this far more fun.”
One of his dark brows arches. “Yeah?”
I pull him closer, my grip on the back of his neck causing his head to bow just enough for his messy hair to fall across his forehead. “Yes.”
His nostrils flare, his chest seeming to puff upward. “If you kiss me—”
I thread my fingers through his thick hair and yank his head back, cutting off his words, and sink my teeth into his fucking neck.
A growl reverberates from his chest, the sound doing pleasant things to my senses. I suspect our mate would enjoy hearing him do that while choking on my cock.
Perhaps I’ll see if that’s a fantasy she would enjoy.
Give her the option to dictate what we do to each other.
Force Maliki to submit.
Or I would kneel, if that’s her preference.
Regardless, playing as a threesome could be fun.
And made even better now that I’ve claimed him.
“Fuck,” Maliki snarls. “What the fuck?”
I release him with a shove and lick his blood from my bottom lip. “You’re mine now, Enforcer.” I give him a “Cheers!” motion with the mug, then take a sip of the coffee, the warm liquid pairing nicely with his essence on my tongue.
“Morpheus.” I’m not sure if he says my name out loud or in his head. Perhaps both.
Maliki, I return mentally.
And he clutches his head. “Oh, fuck this.”
Can’t undo an Alpha bite, I’m afraid, I inform him, amused by his sudden fury. I can both feel it and taste it, which is a great combination. “I warned you not to play with knives when we returned, mate.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he says, coming toward me.
So I mist to the kitchen and set the coffee cup down. “Now, now…”
He shadows to my side, his hand going for the butcher block that just appeared on the counter. I wish it away with a wave of my hand, already aware of his moves since we’re now linked mentally. And I am very much paying attention to his thoughts.
Maliki growls again, the sound feral in nature.
I mist before he can grab me, only to find my throat in a chokehold and my back pressed up against the wall.
Maliki’s teeth are suddenly in my fucking neck.
My eyes widen, my mind struggling to understand how he got the upper hand, when I realize that he quickly figured out how to hear my motives, too.
Which makes us more or less evenly matched.
And now doubly mated, thanks to his vicious claim.
I go to shove him away when he bites me on the shoulder through my shirt.
“Fuck.” I mist, but the fucker comes with me and bites me a third time—this time on the side of my neck—before punching me in the face.
My nose instantly smarts, causing me to gag as my vision blinks in and out.
It’s like he hit me with a hammer.
And maybe he did.
Because I’ve somehow ended up on the floor with him standing over me.
I glare up at him, then note the hand he’s holding out for me as a show of a truce.
I blink, startled. He’s holding another fresh cup of coffee, and I have no idea when or how he grabbed it.
Then I hear his mental commentary—his pride—about giving me another dose of slug venom.
Part of me wants to kill him.
Yet amusement washes over me in the next wave, and all I can do is huff out a laugh. “I’m impressed,” I concede.
“As you should be,” he drawls, his palm still hovering above me in that peace-offering gesture.
With a shake of my head, I grab it and let him yank me up to my feet. Then he shoves that new cup at me.
“Drink this. It’ll help the headache.”
I frown, not sure what he means.
But not a second later, the pounding starts, and I become conscious of the fact that he hit me with more than slug venom. He mingled about five or six poisons together.
In his original coffee cup, I realize. “You tricked me.”
“I anticipated the need” is all he says in reply. “But don’t worry, that cup has the antidote.”
There’s a retort on my tongue about not believing a word he says. However, I don’t bother voicing it since I can hear in his mind that he’s telling the truth.
So rather than fight him, I just accept the coffee and finish it completely.
The throbbing eventually subsides, allowing me to see more clearly. “You’ve been busy,” I mutter, taking in all the food on the counter.
“Not really. Just manifesting every food I can think of to see what will tempt Sera when she returns from her flight.”
“Flight?” I repeat, lost.
“Hades took her flying,” he murmurs. “And our mate is very much enjoying herself.”
Blinking, I allow my mind to connect to hers and hear her dreamy sighs and wonder as Hades shows her around Glass Lake. My lips curl a little, pleased to hear that Hades is taking proper care of our Omega. “She’s happy.”
“She is,” Maliki agrees, picking up a croissant. “Wonder how she’ll feel about our new bond, mate.”
I shrug. “It strengthens our circle, which is centered around her. I imagine she’ll approve.”
“Still wish I had been given a chance to ask her,” he drawls, his golden eyes intense once more. “Which brings us to our first order of mate business—fucking ask for permission first, Morpheus.”
I sigh. “Are you really going to create a rule book?”
“For you? Yeah, I am. Because it’s clearly needed.” He gives me a look that dares me to argue. “Now grab something to eat and meet me in the dining room. I want to discuss what you found in the other dimension. Then I’ll decide if I can forgive you for dragging me there.”
It was a worthwhile trip, I nearly tell him.
But hearing his mind, I know that won’t be good enough.
So I nod.
Then manifest myself a stiff drink instead of taking any food.
And join him at the table.
“You have a very strange obsession with food,” I inform him, amused by his penchant for feeding everyone around him. “You realize we’re all immortal, yes?”
“Food provides comfort.” He leans back in his chair. “But I honestly get just as much enjoyment from stabbing people. So if you would prefer that activity”—a blade appears, and he twirls it between his fingers—“I would be happy to oblige you, God of Dreams.”
“Always so violent,” I murmur. “I like you, Maliki.”
“Is that why you almost kissed me earlier?”
My lips curl. “When I kiss you, it will be for our mate’s enjoyment.”
One of his dark brows lifts. “When?” He huffs out a laugh. “I will fucking bite you if you try.”
“Something Serapina might also enjoy,” I muse, letting my eyes track over his muscled form. “There are a lot of intriguing things we could do with her between us. Things that would very likely enhance the experience for our Omega.”
He picks up a glass as it manifests on the table, the liquid amber in color. “I’m not opposed to that.”
“I know.” I tap my head. “I can hear your intrigue, Enforcer.”
“Then you know I’ll never submit to you.”
“To me? No. To Serapina? Perhaps.”
He leans back in his chair. “Sera’s pleasure is all that matters to me.”
“Then we’re in agreement that we’ll play if it benefits her,” I say. “Or if she asks us to.”
One of his muscular shoulders lifts in a partial shrug. “I’ve always enjoyed group play. My limits are… nonexistent.”
“Which makes the experience all the more intriguing,” I muse, taking a sip of my ambrosia. Then I set it aside and lean forward. “So, about our field trip…”