Beauty [A Faery Story 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (27 page)

A shaft of sunlight was warm on her face and she tried to turn. She tried but she was caught. Her eyes flew open, and she looked into seriously blue eyes.

“Hello, sunshine.”

Bron sat up in bed and screamed.

There was movement behind her as something large banged to the floor. A man. Another man. She was in bed with two men.

“Bronwyn? Bronwyn, love, you need to stop. Someone will think we’re killing you, and that really isn’t going to be good for anyone.” The dark-haired man cajoled her as though it was perfectly normal for her to be lying in bed stark naked with two men.

“We’re not killing her, but damn me I think I might have broken my tailbone falling out of bed. Who thought this place would be big enough?” The second man brushed a hand through his hair and then stood, his enormous male organ bouncing and pointing straight at her. He frowned down and made no move to cover himself. “What’s wrong,
a chumann
?”

What was wrong? What was wrong? She’d gone utterly mad. That was what was wrong. All of her life she’d been told she was insane, and now she knew it to be true. She’d lost her mind and now she was pulling her dream men straight out of her head.

“Where am I?” She clutched the sheet to her chest.

The man who had fallen to the floor stared at her, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. He was his brother’s twin, but three long scars marred his face. Why did she remember touching those scars, kissing them and feeling this man melt underneath her tenderness. He didn’t look like a man who needed tenderness now. “You’re with your mates. Is there a reason you’re hiding those breasts? They belong to me, and I want to see them.”

And her dream men were suddenly unreasonable pricks, so all she could think was that she had a deeply masochistic inner soul. “I was in my cell at the jail.”

“Yes,” the other one said, his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away. He sighed and continued his explanation. “You were in your cell, but they gave you a potion and took you to the square.”

Vague, nightmarish images floated back to her brain. She’d been dragged and drugged and bound. She had an image of someone calling her “princess,” but then he’d fled and left her to the wolves. Micha had been there, snarling at her, forcing poison into her veins. And then the flames had come. She’d cried out for someone to save her, and that must have been when her mind had broken. Bron took a long breath. What had really happened? Had she gotten away or was this what happened to the dead? Were her ashes already floating in the wind?

“She doesn’t believe we’re real.”

“How can she not believe we’re real? We’ve been in her dreams since she was a child.”

The unscarred one shrugged. Shim. She’d named him Shim. “I don’t know. Only Gillian believed us. Perhaps she had no one to believe her, no one to help figure out what was happening.”

Bron drew her knees to her chest. “Gillian’s here?”

“She’s downstairs,” the one she’d named Lach replied.

There was something about Gillian she needed to remember, but she couldn’t quite catch it, and she kept getting distracted by man parts. They were everywhere, and neither man seemed willing to do a thing about it. “Shouldn’t you cover those things up?”

Those things had given her such pleasure, sinking deep inside her. It was all a dream, of course. Except she was really sore. Really sore. Her body had a pleasant ache.

Shim smiled and gave her a little wink she found all too sexy. “I don’t want to cover it up. I’d really rather use it on you, love.”

Something heated up inside. Mingled in with the nightmare images were other softer, sweeter memories. Lach working over her, sharing his pleasure with her. Shim kissing her neck, lavishing affection before he sank his fangs deep.

Fuck it all, he’d bitten her. She shot off the bed practically jumping toward the mirror. She stared at herself. There it was. Her neck was smooth and unblemished with the exception of two perfectly delicate holes. She’d been fed upon, and if she remembered correctly, she’d liked it.

What in all the damn planes was happening to her?

“You’re vampires.” It was the only explanation. They were royal vampires. There was only one problem with the scenario. She turned to them, still trying to pull the sheet around her. “Why did you bite me? I’m not a consort.”

“Like hell you’re not. You’re a consort. You’re our consort.” Lach threw his brother a furious stare. “How can she not know this? Are you trying to tell me that we’ve been pining for her, looking for her for damn near thirteen years, and she thought we were some masturbatory dream?”

Shim seemed the more reasonable of the two. “You know how hard it was to talk in those dreams. I would go in thinking I would explain everything to her and it would all drift away and we would simply be there.” He turned to Bron. She was pretty sure now the enormous, bobbing cock that jutted from his center was simply in its natural form since it never wavered. How did he walk around like that? “Your parents never told you that you could bond? Your vampire cousins would have been able to see your glow.”

Her father had never mentioned it, but she did remember Dante teasing her about glowing. She hadn’t understood. She’d been kept so ignorant. “My parents didn’t tell me, but then they didn’t tell me much. They probably believed me to be far too young.”

Lach frowned. “You weren’t too young to know the truth. Didn’t you understand that Gillian came to your plane with the express purpose of securing your engagement to us?”

Gillian. Gillian, her mentor. Her savior. What had Gillian said as the fires had died down? As Shim had carried her?

When the time is right and we unite the tribes, you will be the true Kings of the Fae. I honor you, brothers, and the woman who brings the Unseelie into true power.

It was like a punch to the gut.

Impregnate her if you can.

Gillian, the woman who had rescued her, had given her over to two men she didn’t know. She’d offered Bronwyn’s body and womb and, more importantly, her royal blood. Gillian had come to the palace that day so long ago to secure Bronwyn’s hand for her brothers. Her brothers—the Unseelie princes.

She had to hand it to Gillian. She was tenacious. She’d guarded Bron’s innocence. Bron had believed she guarded her from rape because Gillian had loved her, but now she knew it was because she’d been protecting her brothers’ property.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” She’d hated the state, wanted to rid herself of it night after night in her dreams. She’d wanted her Dark Ones. They’d been her safe place, her haven.

Reality was brutal, and they had always been a lie.

Lach walked up to her. “No, you’re not. And neither am I.”

She snorted. They were gorgeous. They were princes of a plane known for its hedonism. Her own brothers had worked their way through every pretty sidhe female in their village by the time they were sixteen and likely half the Vampire plane. “Yes, well, I’m sure you lost that a long time before.”

He caught her shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes. “No. I waited. No sex. No blood. Just years of longing and waiting and hoping to find you. I don’t know what you believe, but you better believe this, you were my first woman. You will be my last woman. There is no one in all the planes for me except you, Bronwyn McIver.”

In his mind, they were already married. McIver. The name of the Unseelie royal family. She closed her eyes. Could it be true? She’d never thought she could bond, never been tested. She reached out with her mind and sure enough, there it was, the bond between them. Had it always been there and she’d been too stupid to realize it?

“I am still a virgin since you passed out after Lach fucked you. Could we perhaps do something about that? It’s a terrible state and this thing won’t go down and gods, your breasts are so lovely, Bron.” Shim smiled, his eyes fixed on her chest.

Damn it. She’d lost hold of her sheet.

Before she could bend over to grab it, Lach had it in his hands. He tossed it away.

“You don’t need that around us, wife. I don’t want a damn thing between us. Shim, we should stop trying to talk to her. It’s obvious she isn’t listening.” He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her to his body. “This is what we need.”

His mouth came down on hers. She would have fought if he’d slammed against her, but the damn man was just smart enough to be tender. His lips barely brushed hers. When he spoke, she felt the words like a whisper on her skin. “I love you, Bronwyn. I’ve loved you all my life. Please don’t fight us now that we’re finally here. Haven’t we lost enough time?”

His need hummed through her brain, and she softened against him. His lips played on hers. He wasn’t aggressive though she felt that in him. He was sweet and tender, and she was falling for all of it.

“Crap and fuck me mother, you really do have a girl in here!”

Bron jumped back and screamed, a little strangled sound. There was a gnome climbing through the window, his small leg hoisted over the sill.

Shim groaned and fell back on the bed. “You have the worst timing, Duffy.”

The gnome named Duffy grinned, lechery in his eyes. “I think I got real good timing, me brother. Perfect timing actually. Hello there, darling, did me brothers bother to mention me? Probably not since they ran away with no thought to me.”

The gnome frowned and then sort of lost his balance and almost fell back out the window. Lach caught him with one hand and dragged him back in, setting him on the floor. He tossed Bronwyn the sheet. “I did think of you, Duff. We both thought about how much you snore as we stepped over you on our way out.”

“It was just a little nap,” Duffy protested. “And Roan is going to kick your ass when he finds out you’re holed up with some village cutie when you’re supposed to be looking for this princess woman. Not that you aren’t a fine specimen of womanhood, lovely lady. I’m actually a little surprised. I thought you two were all about the waiting.” The gnome winked. “I’m their brother. Don’t let the size of the man fool you. I’m actually quite creative. And these two are all spoken for. I’m totally available.”

Shim and Lach stared down at the gnome.

“Fuck me, she’s Bronwyn Finn, ain’t she?” The gnome got to one knee. “Your Highness. I am so sorry I just had that fantasy about sticking me face in between your bosoms. I did not realize they were royal bosoms since they seemed so very, very nice and not at all high and mighty. Not that they aren’t mighty…”

Duffy’s words were cut off by a light slap to his head by Lachlan. “Shut up about my wife’s bosoms, Duff. She’s going to be your queen. Show her due respect.”

Duffy huffed a little, his small face beaming with innocence. “I totally respect her bosoms, Lach.”

Shim sighed and moved to pull on a pair of pants. “There’s nothing for it, Lachlan. If Duffy’s here, then Roan will charge in soon. Let’s allow our Bron to get dressed and perhaps we can talk over a nice meal. Are you hungry, love?”

She wasn’t, but she would do just about anything to get a moment to herself. They were overwhelming her. The events of the day had wreaked havoc on everything she knew. She needed a moment to process her own thoughts. She needed to take stock. And she really wanted the comfort of clothes. Sympathy. She could play on their sympathy. “Please, Shim. They did not feed their prisoners well in the jail.”

Sure enough both of the men paled and scrambled to get into their pants.

“I’ll bring something up to you. You just rest. We’ll have to move by nightfall.” Lach tugged his shirt over his head. She couldn’t miss the blood stains.

“Move? Where?”

“To Aoibhneas.” Shim shoved his feet into boots and then handed her some clothes. They had carefully folded her dress. “There’s a gap in the planes. We can get back home. We can make sure you’re safe.”

She opened her mouth, but Lach was in front of her, staring down, his dark eyes full of will and command.

“No arguments. You will go home.” He softened slightly. “Let’s discuss it when you’ve had something to eat. Sweet Bronwyn, please don’t look at me that way.” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes sliding away from hers. “Does my face frighten you?”

He was worried about a few scars? The scars on his face didn’t bother her at all, though she wondered how he’d gotten them. They looked a little like burns as though sparks of fire had driven across his face. But they were small things compared to how perfectly lovely the rest of him was. “Your face doesn’t scare me, but everything else about this does. I don’t know what to think. And I’m not leaving my home plane. If you know who I am, then you have to know I cannot leave here. My people have need of me.”

And she’d ignored that need for far too long. She’d just now decided to stand up and become the princess she should be. If her brothers couldn’t reclaim their throne, then she would do it for them.

“Yes, your people have need of you.” Shim ran a hand down her arm. “They need to meet their future queen.”

There would be no talking to them. They obviously had their minds made up, and she wasn’t sure they would tell her the truth even if she tried. Gillian’s words were odd to her, but it seemed to Bronwyn that her mentor had political ambitions. She’d said something about uniting the Fae under Lachlan and Shim. Their marriage to the last Seelie princess would go a long way in securing those rights. She wasn’t even sure Beck and Cian were alive, but she had to protect their throne just in case.