He stiffened. Drew in a calming breath. Held it. As he released it, tension seeped from him. He kneaded her giving flesh. “I appreciate you telling me, and I think I have a solution. Devote ourselves to strengthening our bond so nothing can override it.”

  He kissed her softly, and dang it, she melted against him. “That is the cheesiest, most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” she told him.

  “I think I heard it on a soap.”

  She laughed, her blood heating. This male. Oh, this male. Imperfectly perfect for her. She craved a future with him. “I refuse to let you become Lore and sacrifice your life to pay my debt to Taliyah,” she said, toying with his hair.

  “I will be Azar at the ceremony. I’ll kill Lore on his behalf, freeing you from any unnatural bond while certifying the Astra’s win. Of course, I’ll have to hobble Azar beforehand, so he doesn’t interfere, but you did mention something about wiggle room.”

  Oooh. “Rathbone, you beautiful, brilliant beast, you, that just might work!” Bright rays of hope beamed light into shadowy corners of her mind. They could actually pull off the big V. “You’ll have to chain me up in case the elixir kicks in. And provide me with the world’s most romantic gesture to make up for it.”

  “Deal.” He lifted her off her feet, grinding his erection against her core as she wound her legs around him. “And now that the king and his chosen queen have reached an accord, we will celebrate.”

  “I’m intrigued. How do we celebrate in the Realm of Agonies?”

  “With orgasms.”

  She chuckled. “I approve. But you can’t just bestow such an important title upon me. There’s got to be a ceremony or something.”

  “I beg to differ. I’m sovereign, my word law, and I say Neeka the Wanted is my queen. Therefore, you are my queen.”

  Tears of joy welled, blurring her vision. “Well. In that case, I guess I’m your queen.”

  They shared a soft smile.

  “I once told you that I’d give you a grand love story,” she bragged, “and that’s exactly what I’ve done.”

  “It is indeed.”

  * * *

  Rathbone dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers, thrilling as Neeka opened for him and thrust her tongue against his. He fed her passion and adoration, giving her his promises, hopes, and tomorrows in return.

  She tore at his clothes. “Guess what? We have more to celebrate than originally agreed upon,” she rasped against his lips. “I’m Neeka the Wanted, and I’m all in. I’m yours, and you are mine. I admit it. We’re a couple. The harpy-oracle and the red king. You’re my consort. We’re a family. Together forever. No takebacks.” Had she covered all the bases?

  He went still. “You want me as your one and only?” The consort she wouldn’t share for any reason.

  “I do.”

  Here it was. Everything he’d ever desired, his for the taking. And take it he would. He would brand her. Hear her cries of ecstasy. Show her how much she meant to him. Prove how important she was. How necessary.

  “Yes. You are mine, and I am yours. Nothing will separate us.” With a hoarse growl, he flashed her to the bed, sliced through her clothes, and pinned her to the mattress with his body.

  The kiss deepened, every thrust of their tongues a meeting of souls. He draped an arm over her head and angled her chin with the other, caging her in. Absolutely nothing in the vast eons of his life had ever felt this right. Born for her.

  They strained together. Breathed for the other. He poured himself into each caress. Touched and tasted every inch of her. Pushed his control to its limit. Their moans blended, creating an exquisite symphony he yearned to hear for the rest of eternity.

  “What are you doing to me?” she cried.

  He lifted his head. “Whatever I want.”

  The air electrified when he spotted the fever flush deepening the hue of her skin. “So you’re addicting me to your body, so I’ll always crave more.”

  He kissed her, licking into her mouth. There was no greater prize than this female. “Exactly.”

  She moaned. “Get inside me. Please!”

  “Mmm, but I like this word on your lips.” He positioned himself at her opening and hooked an arm beneath her knee. With his gaze locked on hers, he thrust.

  Her spine arched, exposing her vulnerable neck, and she screamed. He rode her climax to its end, then reached between them to ignite a second. And when he came with a roar, rapture like he’d never known consumed him. An unparalleled bliss that arrowed straight to the center of his being, changing his molecular makeup without a shift.

  He wasn’t a puzzle with missing pieces anymore. He’d been completed, and the future had never been brighter.

  32

  Hand in hand, Neeka and a shirtless Rathbone exited the bedroom. After hours of incredible lovemaking and whispered pillow talk, her heart was as full as her agenda. Nothing had happened with Lore—yet—so they might as well check on Maximus and confront Daisy while they had the chance.

  The orb-making harpy had betrayed them from the beginning. A taste of Neeka’s own medicine, yes. But. If you didn’t work with them, you worked against them, and Rathbone had very strict rules about how to repay those who sought their doom. As the new Queen of Agonies, she must fully support her man in his endeavors.

  “After this, you wanna spend the next two days in bed? I’ve decided to write a book, but I need to do some research first,” she said.

  He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed. “Is this book a romance?”

  “No sir. It’s nonfiction. I’m calling it The Cuddle Sutra.”

  “I will do this,” he said with a nod, “but in return you will marathon my soaps and discuss the plots with me. In detail.”

  “Fine. But I expect a meal before, during, and after intermission.” Smiling, she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. “Let me handle Daisy, okay? Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but you aren’t the greatest when it comes to dealing with enemy harpies. We can be a wee bit...quirky.” Not to mention the fact that her instinct hadn’t changed. Deep down, a part of Neeka believed she and Daisy were still meant to be good friends. Since Neeka couldn’t be friends with a traitor to harpykind, Daisy must be on the up and up. Somehow.

  Did that mean her actions would go unpunished? Not even a little.

  He arched a brow at “wee bit.” “I think I deal with you just fine.”

  “Yes, but that’s because I’m oblivious to your flaws, since you’re my consort and all.”

  “I have no flaws.”

  “No more than five. Ten. Probably closer to fifteen.” She beamed a toothy grin at him. “I find your ego charming.”

  “Before the end of the day, I will hear everything you find charming about me.”

  “I’ll need at least a week.”

  He squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead. Neeka grinned wider. Oh, how she loved her life.

  They discovered both of their targets in a sitting room. Daisy lounged in a velvet settee, reading a book in her underwear and tube socks, with empty snack cartons piled around her. An orange corn chip hung from the ends of her hair.

  Maximus sat across from her, staring hard. His clawed hands white-knuckled his knees. “I must have you,” he blurted out.

  Daisy belched in her hand and flipped a page without glancing up. “No.”

  “I’ll give you jewels.”

  “Dude,” the harpy replied. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  Neeka released Rathbone to palm two daggers. “How dare you tell my stepson the truth, you lying liar!”

  The boy tore his attention from the harpy, flashed to his feet facing Neeka and Rathbone, and growled. Actually growled, baring his teeth and everything. “We’re busy, and you’re interrupting,” he snapped. He waved them off. “Go.”

  “That isn’t how you speak to your par—elders,” Rathbone snapped back.

  Daisy flipped another page in her book. “Put the weapons away. You’re not going to kill or imprison me. I’ve glimpsed my future, remember. Besides, you realize I did what I had to do for reasons. Also, you vowed to protect me while I’m living with you.”

  “Our vow was conditional,” Neeka retorted. “You got a place to stay and in exchange, Rathbone controlled the orb. And FYI. I would never kill or imprison another harpy. I’m only going to rip out your guts and fly them like a flag while I sing about being a champion.”

  “I will pay my future wife’s debts,” Maximus proclaimed, holding his head high.

  Rathbone scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “I’m not your future wife, kid,” Daisy replied. Page flip. “I met the condition, Unwanted. Rathbone was able to control the orb, but so was Lore.”

  “She’s the Wanted,” Rathbone stated at the same time Neeka said, “I’m the Wanted. And stop making perfect sense! It’s annoying.”

  “I’m not a kid.” Maximus punched a fist into his open palm. “I’m older than you are, harpy.”

  “Then grow up!”

  As the different arguments rolled on, Neeka lost sight of the conversation. But that was okay. The most amazing contentment spread through her. These people were her family. With all their faults, weaknesses, and mistakes. The holidays were going to be oh, so fun.

  More and more mátia on Rathbone’s chest glanced her way and stayed put. Soon, Rathbone himself was peering at her, each of his irises glowing with an assortment of colors. Oh, wow. She marveled at the beauty.

  “Rathbone, did you know your mátia is changing colors?” she asked.

  Her beautiful crimson consort looked himself over and floundered. “I don’t understand.”

  “They look the same to me,” Maximus said.

  So only she and Rathbone could see the switch? “It’s never happened before?” she asked.

  “Not to my knowledge.” He canted his head. “Do you think...”

  “Oh, yeah.” It was a sign she belonged with him. Forever!

  She stepped into him, gliding her palms up his chest. “The queen is ready to retire for the—” Flash. Rathbone tumbled her into bed. “Day,” she finished with a laugh.

  “One step ahead of you, oracle,” he said before kissing her.

  * * *

  Neeka spent the next two days relishing all things Rathbone. If they weren’t making love, they were listening to Maximus drone on and on about Daisy, who rebuffed him at every turn.

  Though Neeka hadn’t viewed a new vision, she’d pondered the others. Noted the smallest details. She’d also returned to her beach hideaway with Rathbone to collect the vial of Azar’s blood. In her spare time, she exchanged carry pigeon messages with Hades, brainstorming contingency plans for the upcoming event.

  Still nothing had happened with Lore. Neeka was beginning to think she’d screwed up the elixir somehow. Nothing required this much baking.

  When the morning of the ceremony finally dawned, she and Rathbone shared a passionate embrace before he did as prearranged and chained her to their bed. At least she hadn’t gotten this wrong. At some point, they’d changed the future for the better. She knew it. Even without a vision, she knew it.

  “You will be protected at all times,” he assured her. “Hades’s men surround the realm and the palace and Hades himself is standing guard at your door even now.”

  Said door swung open and Hades peeked inside the room to say, “Hades is listening to everything you’re discussing, so keep things PG.” The door shut, then opened again. “That means perfectly graphic, in case it wasn’t clear,” he added, and Rathbone rolled his eyes.

  “I hate missing seeing you in action,” she pouted. And yes, she remained a bit leery. She hadn’t attended the ceremony in her visions, either. What if—no. No going there today. They’d schemed, plotted, and bargained. They’d taken precautions. In none of the visions had Rathbone shifted into Azar. This was new. A twist she hadn’t foreseen. “You’re going to save the day, I just know it.” Right? That’s what she felt the strongest, yes? “You’ll take Azar out of commission, assume his identity, and slay Lore before the shadow monsters are freed.”

  “Exactly. But first, I’m off to collect the necessary tools.” He bent down to cup her jaw and softly kiss her lips. When he lifted his face from hers, he studied her for several beats while tracing the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones. “If you want to watch, Peer through me. Or save your strength and I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve gotten inside you. Twice. The festivities kick off in an hour.”

  Despite Hades’s nearness, she was vulnerable while chained. Peering would drain her, leaving her doubly vulnerable. “Whatever you do, stay safe and return to me.”

  “Always.” Rathbone kissed her again, then he was gone.

  Ugh. She missed him already. And dang it, she regretted the need for chains. She should be by his side, aiding him. Predicting moves and taking names. Why, why, why had instinct led her in this direction?

  Hey! What was that strange tugging sensation in her chest?

  She grimaced as the sensation amplified until—Neeka’s body shot off the mattress, pulling her chains taut. Uh-oh. The straining metal cut into her wrists and ankles. Deep. Deeper. Pain arced through her limbs.

  What was happening? She opened her mouth to scream for Hades, but the words coagulated in her throat. Odd thoughts bombarded her head.

  Almost time. Untapped power awaits me. First Harpina, then the Realm of Agonies, then Nova. No one can stop me. Fools all! So why am I so unhappy? What will it take to feel joy?

  Sparks erupted throughout her body, and she wheezed. Flames grew beneath the surface of her skin, licking at her insides, burning, scorching, blistering. Literally! Glowing embers began to spark from her pores. No, not embers. Not fire, either. She was breaking apart and fading.

  No, no, no. This wasn’t—she couldn’t—the bedroom vanished, an unfamiliar throne room taking its place. Dark stone walls surrounded her, with a single row of torches stretching on all sides. A mirror as large as the one Hades owned hung from a vaulted ceiling.

  As her hysteria dulled, she grew confused. What in the world? She perched on a throne made of fossilized hearts. Lore’s children lounged at her feet, gazing at her with adoration. She soaked up the attention, charging like a battery.

  Neeka reared back, getting into fight mode—except, she didn’t move an inch. She remained reclined on the throne of hearts, drumming the seat’s arms with the tips of too long, pointy nails. She now wore a black ball gown suitable for a storybook evil queen, and she had white skin. What the—what?

  “That’s right. Love me, my darlings.” Lore’s voice echoed through the room, and shockingly, Neeka heard her. Such a soft, melodious voice. “Fuel me. I know you are upset I’m flesh and blood while you remain in spirit form, able to touch me no longer. But those I’m soon to birth will move between spirit and natural, solidifying and misting at will. They will be your bridge to do the same.”

  Their adoration intensified, and Lore moaned.

  “Yes, yes. Just like that, my lovelies. I must be as strong as possible.”

  More odd thoughts drifted through Neeka’s mind. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel the oracle?

  She thought of herself as ‘the oracle’ now? Or... Huh. Had she forced a Peer without knowing it? Although, this felt like so much more than an inner eye connection. This felt as if she’d become a part of Lore.

  Oh...crap. Guess they were done baking. Had the elixir combined them? Was that how it tied two people together?

  The other woman gasped. “Combined us? Elixir? What did you do?” Lore screeched, upsetting her audience. Their scales spiked with aggression. “I will rip you out of me if I must!”

  Neeka heard her voice as well as her thoughts, and apparently the goddess heard Neeka’s thoughts too. But why was Neeka trapped inside Lore and not the other way around? Neeka had drunk two glasses, the goddess one; she should be the carrier, not the carried.

  “Ah, I see what you did,” Lore intoned. “Details are unrolling from your chaotic mind. How do you function like this?” She rubbed her temples. “Obviously, you are the weaker vessel.”

  Hardly! But why would her foresight lead her to do this? To condemn herself to such a horrendous future? She and Rathbone had worked up the most amazing plan.

  Gah! Don’t think about the plan.

  Of course, now she could think of nothing but the plan.

  Anger drained from Lore, and she snorted. “I doubt Rathbone will be so eager to become Azar and kill me when he learns I carry his beloved.”

  Neeka beat her fists into the goddess’s mind to no avail. She must escape. Must get to Rathbone.

  “Hmmm. I wonder if I have access to your foresight. When you have a vison, will I?” A tinkling laugh escaped the treacherous female. “I like this very much. Maybe I’ll keep you around for a while.” To the hell spawn who prowled at her feet, she said, “I’ll return with our army. Finally the goddess of desire will have her desires met. Power beyond imagining. Worlds at my feet, no one strong enough to steal what belongs to me.” She stood and flashed to a spacious bedroom in the harpy palace. Azar’s bedroom. A part of Lore was overjoyed to be there. Neeka felt her excitement.

  The Astra pumped iron on a bench, sweat pouring over his bulging muscles. He didn’t glance at Lore as she leaned against the side of the machine, but he definitely noticed her presence. He compressed his lips as hatred and longing pulsed from him.

  Where was Rathbone?

  “Hello, handsome.” Lore stared at his mouth for seconds longer than polite, her blood rushing hot. “Are you ready for our big day?”

  “You genuinely desire him,” Neeka gasped out. How can I use this information to my advantage?