Chapter 19
Evangeline
Morning light slips through the partially opened window, pale and thin.
It washes the room in a dull, colorless glow, clinging to the floorboards and the stiff folds of the curtains without warmth.
I’m nestled in the center of a large, upholstered bed, wrapped tightly in layers of cozy blankets that form a protective cocoon around me.
The air is quiet except for the soothing chorus of birdsong and the soft rustle of wind weaving through the trees.
I linger there, letting the peaceful sounds cradle me in a dreamy haze until the persistent pressure in my bladder can no longer be ignored, forcing me to toss off the covers and shuffle sleepily toward the bathroom.
I go through my daily routine, taking time to wash my face and brush my teeth.
Small self-care things, but it grounds me.
I need that discipline more than ever now, with the lingering threat and my purpose in all of this gnawing at my heels.
Thoughts of Jameson and the other sick fae plague my thoughts as I dress in a simple yellow dress I brought from home.
By the time I’m finished, my stomach is growling in protest, reminding me I didn’t eat the dinner I made last night.
I could probably find the kitchen by myself.
After all, Finnick escorted me to it yesterday, but the estate is vast, and there are far too many winding hallways and closed doors.
I fear my directionally challenged self will get lost. Best to avoid all the unnecessary drama and ask Niko and Zephyr to escort me.
Niko mentioned last night that the door beside my bed leads to his and Zephyr’s room.
I walk over to it but pause with my hand hovering just above the handle.
What exactly is the right thing to do here?
Should I knock? That feels polite, expected, even.
Just walking in seems rude. Then again, Niko has told me more than once to make myself at home.
And if I were at home, I definitely wouldn’t knock before going into a room.
But...I lived alone. That probably changes the rules, doesn’t it?
Maybe this is different. Maybe I should knock.
Awkwardly, I knock.
No response.
Maybe they’re sleeping? Zephyr doesn’t strike me as one for sleeping in.
Surely, at least he’s awake. Strengthening my resolve, I slowly turn the handle.
The door gives, silently swinging open. I peek my head inside, but it’s dark and partially obscured by a wooden dresser.
The entire castle feels like a whimsical tree house, constructed from the earth.
Commotion from within draws my attention, and I move farther into the room. “Niko?” I call. No response.
And then I hear a grunt, followed by a moan. My mind is plagued with visions of Niko and Zephyr lying in their own blood, suffering, having been attacked in the night. We have a Nephilim locked up somewhere in the castle, so the thought isn’t completely unfounded.
I burst into the room, heart pounding, panic surging through me.
I rush past the wardrobe only to freeze in place.
Niko and Zephyr haven’t been attacked in the middle of the night like I feared.
The groans and moans I heard weren’t from pain.
No, the fae males are very much not in distress—unless their tangled, intimate positions suggest otherwise.
Niko’s bare back faces me, every sculpted muscle shifting beneath sun-kissed skin as he moves with slow, deliberate rhythm. Even on his knees, he radiates strength. His presence is commanding, dominant, and utterly breathtaking.
Before him stands Zephyr, just as naked, his body a study in tension and pleasure.
His head tilts back, lips parted in a soft gasp and eyes fluttering shut as his fingers thread possessively through Niko’s tousled red hair.
Niko’s head bobs in a steady, sinful rhythm, the sight sending a bolt of heat straight to my core.
Zephyr groans—a deep, guttural sound that fills the room—as he rocks forward, thrusting into Niko’s waiting mouth.
Their connection feels raw and electric, pulsing with desire.
They are so consumed with one another that they don’t see me standing agape, cheeks burning as red as a fire hydrant.
I should go.
That would be the appropriate response.
Leave and pretend I saw nothing.
Except I’m rooted in place, unable to do anything but watch as two of the sexiest men I have ever seen seek pleasure in one another. Wetness pools between my legs, and an ache I haven’t felt in a long time begins to grow in my core. It’s almost painful, demanding release.
I’m helpless to do anything but watch Niko suck Zephyr’s dick. He takes Zephyr down his throat with ease, while one hand wraps around the base of Zephyr’s cock. He strokes as he sucks on his tip, and although I can’t see all of Zephyr, I see enough.
I’ve been with men—and women—before. Never with more than one at a time, though, and none of the men even came close to the sculpted fae before me.
Zephyr’s abs flex, the muscles in his arms straining as he tugs on Niko’s hair.
It seems almost painful, but the kneeling fae only lets out a sultry moan.
Fuck, this is hot.
And so, so wrong.
I’m intruding on a private moment, one I have no business watching. And yet…
And yet my traitorous body grows hotter with each moan and grunt from Zephyr and Niko.
“So fucking pretty on your knees,” Zephyr’s lust-filled voice groans, making my nipples harden in response.
He’s not talking to me, and yet I can’t help but think how it would be if he were.
Would Niko watch us like I’m watching them?
Or would he join in, touching me in places I haven’t been touched for so long?
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
“Fucking come for me,” Niko growls, his voice dark and rough, dripping with authority.
It’s a tone I’ve never heard from him before.
It’s nothing like the charming, soft-spoken man who smiles so easily.
This Niko is something else entirely. This version of him is raw power and dominance, a man who doesn’t ask—he commands.
And from the way Zephyr’s body arches in response, trembling with anticipation, it’s clear he’s more than willing to obey. Niko sounds like a man who’s used to being worshipped, his every demand met with eager submission. Like a man used to getting exactly what he wants.
My breath hitches in my throat just as Zephyr’s grip on Niko tightens.
His body tenses, locking up before he lets out a long, needy moan.
He comes undone before my eyes, the most beautiful and sexiest thing I have ever seen.
Niko takes it willingly, groaning as he swallows what he can, but some of Zephyr’s cum trickles down his chin.
“Fuck,” Zephyr pants, his eyes opening for the first time.
And that’s when I realize my mistake.
I’m directly in his line of view.
His eyes lock onto mine, burning with a heat that seems to scorch straight through me. His expression is a cold, unreadable mask, but the intensity of his glare speaks volumes.
“Evangeline.” He says my name like a curse, each syllable laced with venom, as if just uttering it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Evangeline?” Niko repeats, angling his head back. His eyes are wide, lips glistening from Zephyr’s arousal.
“I…” Fuck, I’m in such deep shit. “I…sorry…I should have—” Words topple out of me, but none make any sense. My body springs into action, finally uprooting me from the very spot I’ve been glued to for the past five minutes.
I don’t think. I just turn and run.
“Evangeline!”
Zephyr—no, maybe Niko—calls after me, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Humiliation burns beneath my skin, tangled with something far more dangerous. Desire. Desire and shame because what I did was wrong. I know that, and yet I couldn’t pull myself away. I should have tried harder.
I don’t dare face them. I don’t want them to see what’s written all over me. So I run.
Back to my room.
Back to the safety of silence and shadows.
And I don’t look back. Not at them, not at what I saw, not at how much I liked it.