Chapter 31
Scotty wasn’t sure she would ever recover from what had just happened. Not that she wanted to.
Waves of pleasure surged through her, over and over. It was like it had been the two times with Mace and Blade individually, except it was…more. More pleasure, more intensity, more connection.
Filled by both males, it was as if she was connecting a circuit, and along with her own orgasms, she felt theirs, too. She felt everything. Their emotions, their desires, their very life forces.
This is how my life is meant to be.
The thought hit her like a blow upside the head.
Like how Rath used to whack her with a hoof when he didn’t appreciate her attitude.
She’d always hated that, but honestly, his hoof whacks always knocked some sense into her.
Ramreels were nothing if not brutally honest. Neither deception nor tact was in their DNA.
If they thought you were an idiot, you knew.
And now she knew that everything she’d ever done was destined for this moment.
This, she understood, was in her DNA. This didn’t come from her mother’s human side.
No, this was a transmission from the Fates, neither good nor evil, and she could thank either Reaver or Lilith for the bone-deep knowledge she’d just gained.
This was a crossroads in her life. Had she taken another path, the world would have changed in some way. What she’d just done would change the world in another way, yet to be determined.
Another orgasm tore through her, and she carried the guys with her. Another. And another. They kept up with her, and by the time the intervals between peaks left them able to speak, they were just a knot of pleasure piled on top of the mattress.
She had yet to open her eyes. What if she saw the mate rings on Blade’s neck?
What if she didn’t?
“I don’t think I can move,” Blade rasped.
Mace kissed the nape of her neck between panting breaths. “Me, either.”
They lay there in exhaustion, the love they shared blanketing them in post-coital bliss.
And then.
A distinct shift filled the room with tension. She felt it in the way Mace’s leg muscles tensed, and Blade’s fingers tightened on her waist.
“Do you guys feel that?”
Behind her, Mace stepped back, allowing her to lift off Blade. But unlike the times she was with them, there was no feeling of emptiness. No feeling of being…bereft.
She could still feel them. In her body. In her heart. In her soul.
Mace brought her a robe and wrapped her in it as she stood on wobbly legs.
“When will my markings appear?” But even as she spoke, she felt a tingle in her right arm.
Shadows formed on the back of her hand, and as she watched, they spread, exact replicas of the markings on Mace and Blade. “It’s happening!”
She looked at the guys, but they were busy watching each other.
They were looking for the rings that would form around the throat of her new mate.
Blade reached over and pushed the edge of the robe away from her shoulder. The marks were just now working their way up her arm, light shadows forming on her pale skin. Now, they were at her collarbone.
She climbed off the bed and ran to the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
Halfway up her neck, the squiggle that marked Blade and Mace’s grandfather appeared.
The next glyph would belong to the father of whoever she’d bonded with. But shouldn’t she feel it? Shouldn’t she know who she’d bonded with by now?
Blade’s father’s symbol was an open eye. Mace’s father’s symbol was an hourglass.
Which one would manifest?
A shadow formed, just under the skin. An…eye? No, an hourglass. No…an hourglass superimposed over an eye?
Mace and Blade flanked her, the way they always did. Blade on the right. Mace on the left. Each took one of her hands, and an instant, warm sensation flooded her veins. Gods, she could feel both. Was that normal? Would the sensations focus on only one when the dermoire was complete?
She glanced over at Mace and Blade’s reflection…and was it her imagination, or were mate rings forming on their throats? Both of their throats.
“Guys…”
“I see it,” Mace gasped, his fingers feathering over the taut skin of his neck.
Blade’s hand shook as he reached up to his own throat. “My sword…holy hell…the blade, it’s not broken. It’s…whole.”
It wasn’t just whole. Another shadow was forming along with it.
“What the—?” Mace gaped at the mirror. “My eagle.”
Scotty’s entire world shifted.
Just below her jaw, a glyph appeared. The same one that now graced both Mace and Blade’s throats.
An eagle—Mace’s eagle—was now perched on Blade’s once-broken sword.
Mace squeezed Scotty’s hand. “Does this…does it mean what I think it means?”
Warmth flowed through her, mixed with a flood of emotion coming from both Blade and Mace. There was relief, wonder, and a little trepidation…but mostly a sense of rightness and love.
Someday, you’re going to face an impossible decision. There will be no winner if you choose. So let fate make the choice.
Her grandpa Reaver’s words, from so long ago, made sense now. And the dagger. The one he’d given the guys on that day of training so many years ago. He’d known, hadn’t he?
“It means you’re mine. Both of you.” Hot tears stung Scotty’s eyes as reality hit home. These males, whom she’d loved for as long as she could remember, were hers in every way.