Hermes.
After Lienna had passed out from the intense session with us, laying wrecked on the bed, her chest heaving with gentle, exhausted breaths, we stepped away one after the other, our movements quiet and deliberate. We cleaned ourselves with the cool, clear water a maid had discreetly provided, the soft splashing a stark contrast to the fervent energy that had filled the room moments before. Neither of us said anything to each other, the silence stifling for some reason.
I sat back on one of the plush couches in the Play Pen, sinking into its softness as I occasionally glanced at Lienna, my brows furrowed in thought. Her peaceful face, her slow breaths, and her limp body all belied the intensity we’d shared. There was something odd about her, something that teased at the edges of my mind, yet for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was. When I glanced at the rest, I realized that they had the same confusion mirrored in their expressions.
“Being with Lienna feels different.” I finally broke the silence, my words hanging in the air as Adonis turned to me, his brow slightly raised in inquiry, his gaze piercing.
“You’ve finally noticed,” he murmured, his voice detached as always, yet his eyes sparkled with interest, betraying a hint of curiosity.
Caspian’s attention shifted between us, his expression puzzled, trying to understand what we were talking about.
I glanced back at Lienna, my lips pressed into a thin line, my mind replaying the events that had transpired. “I guess it just occurred to me. Everything surrounding her is unusual. Even the way she barged into the room to request us was… off.” I said, folding my hands, my fingers drumming a slow rhythm on my thigh.
Caspian’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing. “It didn’t seem like she was drugged, either.” His voice was laced with a hint of concern. I nodded in agreement. “Still, it was far from being natural, too. It felt… instinctual, primal.” The word hung in the air, echoing with an unspoken truth.
I quietly conceded with his words, my thoughts aligning with his. “Also, under normal circumstances, we should have punished her for such audacity. But instead, like moths drawn to a flame, we were just… attracted to her, willing to indulge.” My gaze swept across my companions, meeting their eyes. “That kind of behavior is uncalled for, even if we are kings.”
“Unless…” Caspian’s voice trailed off, his words hanging in the air. leaned forward, my curiosity piqued. “Unless what?” I pressed, my eyes locked on his, urging him to continue.
Caspian shook his head, his hand waving dismissively. “Never mind, it’s just a random thought. It sounds crazy just thinking about it.” He muttered, his gaze drifting away, wanting to end the conversion.
I leaned back, my eyes never leaving his. “You should still say it, so we can rule out possibilities.” I encouraged, my voice firm but gentle. Adonis, too, was watching Caspian, his interest piqued.
Caspian hesitated, his eyes darting between us. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t speak, that the thought would remain locked away. But then, he blurted out the most outrageous statement I’d heard in a while. “Unless… she’s our mate. Only then will any of this make sense.”
The room fell silent, the words sounds like a bomb had been detonated. Adonis’s face darkened, his voice tinged with anger. “Don’t be ridiculous, Caspian.” He snapped, his words sharp. “Every Shifter being in this realm stopped receiving mates the second the moon goddess vanished. How would a mere human turn out to be our mate? How is she going to handle it?” Adonis argued, an incredulously tone in his voice.
I nodded in agreement, the idea seeming far-fetched. Caspian, however, didn’t seem convinced by our argument. He looked at us, his eyes searching, but he let it slide. “If that’s what you think, I will not argue.” He said, his voice measured, the tension in the room palpable. An uncomfortable silence settled once more, with neither of us not knowing what to say to clear up the confusion in our minds.
“What are we going to do now that she’s unconscious?” Adonis suddenly asked, his voice breaking the silence in the room. I glanced at him, a brow raised in inquiry, curious about his concern.
“Do you want to wake her up and lead her out?” Caspian asked, his tone neutral, but with an undercurrent of a challenge
“Is there anything wrong with that?” Adonis countered, his voice taking on an edge.
Caspian glared at him, his eyes flashing with a warning. Adonis shrugged, unfazed, his expression a mask of nonchalance.
“So, we’re just going to leave her here?” Adonis pressed, his words dripping with skepticism.
“Yes.” Caspian responded without missing a beat, his voice firm. “What makes you think if we woke her up and ordered her to leave, she can walk out of here all on her own?” He argued.
“Okay, fine. We are leaving her. Happy now?” Adonis finally relented, his words tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
“Very…” Caspian answered, his voice firm.
I watched the exchange, not feeling the need to interfere, as the two of them bantered like old couples.
Caspian stood to his feet, his movements fluid, like a predator unfolding from a crouch. He walked towards the bed, his eyes fixed on Lienna’s peaceful form. Picking up the covers that we had flung away, he used them to cover her up, his touch gentle. Lienna let out a soft sigh, snuggling into the sheet, and falling deeper into sleep. I found the act rather endearing.
He then went back to sit down next to the fireplace, picking up one of the down-turned books as he began to read, his eyes scanning the pages with a quiet intensity.
A knock sounded on the door, breaking the peaceful silence that had begun to settle, like a sudden storm on a still horizon. Who is it this time around? I wondered, my gaze flicking towards the door.
A guard opened the door, taking a step inside. “Your majesties,” he greeted, bowing his head slightly. “The mistress, Veronica, is at the door. Should I let her in?”
What does she want this time around? I wondered, my gaze flicking towards Adonis and Caspian. They shrugging, their expressions making it clear they didn’t want her here either.
“You can let her in,” I said, and the guard nodded before stepping out.
A while later, the door was flung open, and Veronica walked in, her tight-fitting dress clinging to her curves like a second skin, giving her a sultry, confident air. She did a deep curtsy, her movements fluid, before raising her head to greet us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, peering at her, my tone neutral.
“I heard screams coming from this place, and they abruptly cut off,” Veronica replied, her voice laced with concern. “I wanted to see what was going on and if my services were needed in any way.”
Adonis snorted, sounding bored. “We don’t need your services, we’re already sated.”
Veronica’s eyes widened in shock at his response, her gaze darting towards us before settling on Lienna’s peaceful form on the bed. “Really? The slave you purchased did that?” she asked, her tone incredulous.
Caspian corrected her, his voice firm. “It wasn’t a slave. It was Lienna.”
Veronica stiffened, a shadow crossing her eyes for a moment, like a cloud passing over the sun. “Lienna?” she repeated, confusion etched on her face.
Her gaze moved around the room, taking in the scene before settling on Lienna, who was fast asleep, her eyelashes fluttering, and lips slightly parted. Veronica clenched her teeth, her smile strained, like a thin veneer hiding her true emotions.
“I see…” she trailed off, her voice strained, like a bowstring pulled too tight.
“Is she also staying here as well?” Veronica asked, her tone laced with a hint of disbelief.
I shrugged, my shoulders barely rising. “I guess… Neither of us wants to wake her up.” I announced, my voice matter-of-fact.
That must have been too much for Veronica, as her mouth fell open in shock, like a door flung wide. We’ve never let anyone spend the night here after they had serviced us it was an unspoken rule.
Caspian stood, his movements fluid, like a predator unfolding from a crouch. “You can leave, Veronica. As we already told you, we do not require your services. That would be some other time.”
“Of course…” Veronica replied in a tone that was a bit too bright, like a forced smile. “I will take my leave.” She managed a curtsy, her movements stiff, before turning around and leaving the Play Pen.
We watched her go, our gazes following her departure, our minds wondering about her behavior. But our attention was short-lived, as our gazes drifted back to the sleeping human on the bed. She was completely oblivious to all that was happening around her, lost in a world of dreams.
She would be the first human to spend the night in the Play Pen, a feat in itself, as most humans didn’t even survive a single encounter. Yet, she had not only survived but had continued to serve us multiple times, even willingly coming this time around. Adonis’s words began to ring true – indeed, there was something different about her.
Though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out what that was. Having her here filled me with an odd sense of calm, like a stillness in the eye of a storm. And when I glanced at the rest of the Shifter Kings, I saw the same expression reflected in their demeanor, even if they weren’t conscious of it. Maybe having her here wasn’t so bad after all.
I closed my eyes, a wave of fatigue suddenly crashing over me, like a tide pulling me under. I should rest, I felt so tired, my body heavy with the weight of the day’s events. The soft crackle of the fireplace and the gentle rise and fall of Lienna’s chest were the last things I remembered before sleep claimed me.
.
.
.
The next day arrived, and Lienna finally stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open like petals unfolding from a flower. She was dazed for a full minute, her gaze drifting around the room like a lost soul, before the events of the night before began to return to her, like a floodgate opening. A deep flush spread across her skin, like a rose blooming in fast motion, as memories came crashing back.
She tried to hurry out, but the soreness in her muscles prevented that from happening as quickly as she would have liked. Gingerly reaching for her discarded clothes, she put them on with a quiet dignity, her movements slow and deliberate. She made to leave, but her departure was hindered by her own awkwardness, like a fawn taking its first steps.
Standing awkwardly in the room, she slowly lowered her head, giving a deep bow, like a penitent seeking forgiveness. “Um… Thank you for your assistance last night,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like a summer breeze rustling leaves.
Neither of us dignified her statement with a response, which probably made her even more embarrassed, as she turned as red as a tomato, her face aflame with shame. Turning around, she limped out of the Play Pen, her movements stiff, like a puppet on strings. The door opened for her with a soft creak, before slowly shutting behind her with a slow thud, like a heartbeat fading away.
I stared at the closed door, a weird sensation flooding my heart, like a river overflowing its banks. I pressed my lips together, my mind racing with thoughts, my emotions in turmoil. I don’t think this encounter would be the last of its kind, a nagging voice whispered in my mind, like a prophecy unfolding.