Carrick and Lorcan sit down on a sofa that has seen better days whilst Arden waits for us on the large gym mat in the centre of the room. Carrick pulls a joint from the pocket of his shirt, lighting it. His black eyes settle on me as he takes a hit before passing it to Lorcan who takes a deep drag, a slow smile pulling up his lips as he regards us.
Without even turning around to see who’s holding the joint, Arden says, “Bring it here, Lorcan.”
Getting up, Lorcan strides over, passes the joint to Arden who sucks in a lungful. He purposely blows the blue-tinged smoke in our faces and when I draw in a breath, I’m surprised to find that it doesn’t smell like the marijuana we used to smoke as kids. It has a sweet scent, almost floral.
“What’s in that?” I ask.
Xeno grips my fingers tightly.
“Nothing good,” he grinds out.
“All natural ingredients, no synthetic bullshit in this,” Arden counters.
York scoffs. “Opium is a natural ingredient. It’s still fucking dangerous.”
“Then let me rephrase that. This drug isn’t addictive, nor is it dangerous to your health. It is, however, mind-altering.”
“Mind-altering? Fuck, that’s never a good experience,” York comments.
Arden shrugs. “That all depends on what frame of mind you’re in. Pretty sure that dancing with your girl should make it a good one.”
“With three fucking psychos looking on. Yeah, it’s bound to be,” Xeno snarls, jerking his chin and daring Arden to bite.
Arden grins and offers the joint to York who shakes his head. “I can’t dance high. It fucks with my coordination.”
“You won’t have that problem with this,” Arden says. “It heightens your perceptions, not dull your senses.”
York shakes his head, refusing. “Still, no… thanks,” he adds as an afterthought.
“It will open you up in ways you can’t even imagine,” Lorcan adds, his black eyes impossibly dark now that his pupils have blown wide from the high.
“Yeah, and fuck with our ability to fight you off when you try and take Pen from us,” Xeno grinds out.
“If we wanted to do that, we would’ve done it already,” Carrick points out from his spot on the sofa. “Besides, we don’t take what’s already owned by another, no matter how tempting. She’s your soulmate, and there’s no fucking with that. Believe me, we’ve tried before and failed.”
“Carrick, enough!” Arden snaps, anger flaring before he shuts it down with a smile that is as fake as the faux leather sofa Carrick’s sitting on. I briefly wonder if he ever feels joy, and something tells me that isn’t an emotion that often blesses him. If ever.
“She was never ours,” Lorcan mutters, before turning on his heel and sitting back down next to Carrick. I can tell by the furious look on Arden’s face that the ‘she’ Lorcan’s talking about isn’t me, but some mysterious woman in their past, or perhaps, even their present.
My mouth drops open and Xeno is suitably stunned, but it’s York who latches onto that piece of information and grins. “Ah, so there’s a chink in the Deana-dhe’s armour. Looks like you’re not as infallible as you want everyone to believe. Is that why you’re all so fucking obsessed with soulmates because you haven’t found yours?”
“Take a drag,” Arden responds, shutting down completely.
Xeno looks over his shoulder at the door. I follow his gaze and see Beast looking through the small square window. He nods at Xeno, telling him without words that he has our back. “Do it,” Xeno says.
“If you say so, brother. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?” York says, winking at me as he takes the joint, places it between his lips and draws in a lungful. He smiles around the smoke, blowing it out over Arden whose expression darkens.
“Careful, York.”
“Fuck me!” he responds, completely uncaring.
“You okay?”
He nods. “This shit is… wow! What the fuck is in it?”
Arden smirks. “If I told you that, I’d have to kill you, and I’m not in the mood tonight.”
York laughs, and I’m not sure if it’s the drugs he’s just inhaled or the fact he thinks Arden is kidding. Either way, he isn’t remotely bothered by the implied threat.
Xeno’s fingers tighten over mine before fixing his eyes on Arden. “Enjoy the show,” he says, before placing the joint between his lips and dragging in a deep breath, the bright tip of the joint sizzling. He passes the joint back to Arden, then keeping the smoke in his lungs, he cups my face in his palms. I smile, understanding his intentions as he lowers his mouth over mine. With his bottle-green eyes fixed on mine and his thumbs stroking my cheeks, Xeno blows the smoke into my parted lips. I draw it deep into my lungs. The hit is immediate and powerful.
My eyes drift shut momentarily, as tingles rush out over my skin and a burst of bright, white light explodes behind my eyes. I’m momentarily blinded, but when that brightness recedes I find myself feeling weirdly energised, like currents of electricity are thrumming through my veins.
“Tiny?” Xeno questions, his hands still cupping my cheek.
“I’m good. I’m… better than good,” I reply, my eyelids fluttering open as a slow warmth blooms out from my middle. When I focus on Xeno, my lips part on an exhale of breath, words lost beneath my surprise and awe as I drink him in.
“Do you see it too?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper. Xeno is surrounded in a halo of white light. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. In my peripheral vision, York steps close, and I see the same white light surrounding him too.
“You look like the brightest star, Titch,” York whispers, and I feel the heat of his body wrap around me like a warm blanket at his nearness. When his fingers graze over the bare skin of my back and he presses a kiss against my shoulder, the tip of his nose trailing up my neck as he inhales, I shudder, my blood flooding with pleasure hormones.
“Oh God,” I exclaim, reaching for Xeno, my hands pressing against his chest to steady myself. “You feel like silk. You smell like fucking sunshine,” York continues, his hips pressing against my back. He’s hard. Turned on. I realise I am too, but it’s a subtle feeling. When we’re together usually there’s no denying that we want to rip each other’s clothes off. What I feel now… it’s different, pleasurable but not overpowering. Soothing but also invigorating, a strange concoction.
“I feel…”
“…Fucking amazing,” Xeno fills in, his pupil’s blowing wide at my touch.
“The effect of the drug heightens your senses as well as your perception. It will only remain that way for a short while. I’d enjoy it whilst you can. Follow your instincts. Dance,” Arden demands, pulling our attention back to him.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, stepping away from Arden the moment I lay my eyes on him. He isn’t lit up with light like Xeno or York. No, he’s bathed in shadow, his features indistinguishable. The only thing that has any life, any definition, is the butterfly at his neck. It flaps its wings slowly, droplets of blood sliding down the delicate edge, dripping from the tip.
“Dance,” he repeats, his shadowy figure striding towards Carrick and Lorcan, both of whom are bathed in shadow just like he is.
“This drug is fucking intense,” York mutters, but what I’m feeling and seeing now is nothing compared to the auditory overload when music begins to play in the room.
Like a flood of water seeping out of the speakers, Waves by Dean Lewis begins to play and the three of us are immediately swept up in the current of the notes as they float around us. Like Xeno and York, the need to move swells inside of me, and I kick off my shoes wanting to feel the floor against my bare feet. Under the influence of this powerful drug, it feels as though I’m wading through warm water, sand moving and shifting beneath my feet. I undulate my body, my arms stretching out in front of me, my hands weaving and twirling like seaweed moved by the current of the ocean. I close my eyes briefly and can almost feel the salty water embracing me, making me light, weightless, as though I’m standing at the bottom of the ocean. It feels so real.
Turning in a pirouette, I allow myself the freedom to embrace what I’m feeling and just go with it. For a moment I’m alone dancing beneath the waves, being pulled by a current. I spin and leap, twist and twirl. My arms flare, I make shapes with my limbs. Sharp angles, followed by smooth, fluid motion. I’m aware of Xeno and York dancing around me. We don’t touch, we simply dance.
There’s a simplicity to the way we move, a rise and fall, just like that of a gentle ocean. Every now and then we touch, hands feathering over skin, like waves lapping against the shore. Soothing, calming.
When the music begins to swell so do my movements. Every step becomes more defined, sharper, purposeful, and the lightness I feel becomes heavier with every step, the weight of the water suddenly suffocating. I fall to my knees, and roll onto my back, my back arching, my arms spread wide, as I fight off the feeling of heaviness. Darkness moves close by. I feel the ripples of it, and I don’t know if it’s something within me or something on the outside. The sudden freedom I felt, turns in on itself, twisting into something I fear. In that moment I understand that this is what I’ve buried within me. All the fears I’ve been battling drift to the surface of my consciousness. My brother’s face appears laughing, twisted up into the monster of my nightmares. He disappears only to be replaced with my mum’s dead eyes that suddenly come alive, her harsh words and hate flow into me, shifting again into my sister screaming. Lena’s cries are replaced with mine as I stare at my Breakers, the men I love, dead. All those fears tumble over one another drowning me. My face suddenly awash with tears, a whole ocean erupting from within.
“Come back to us,” a voice says, pulling me back from that dark abyss where dangerous creatures lurk, where darkness lives, where my fears reside. “Titch, I’m here. Come back, my love.”
Warm fingertips glide gently over my face, running down my neck, the centre of my chest and over my stomach. I arch my body, chasing the warmth, the crackling electricity drawing me back from the brink. I open my eyes to find York staring down at me. He smiles, and it’s a brilliant smile that gives me my breath back, instead of taking it away.
My fears disperse, just like that.
In my periphery, a sudden movement catches my eye, we both look, drawn to the energy barrelling towards us both. It’s Xeno, and for the briefest of moments I think he’s going to push York over to take his place above me. Instead, he twists his body to the side and leaps into the air, rolling over York’s back only to tumble away, caught up in his own momentum as he continues to dance around us. I feel his energy as he dances, as though he’s battling his own demons and winning.
“Take my hand,” York urges.
Sitting up, I reach for him, and as our fingers meet, a zap of electricity surges down my arm all the way to my toes. He pulls and I push up from my feet, leaping into his arms in one smooth motion, wrapping my arms and legs around his body as he spins away, taking me with him.
We turn together, like a shoal of fish glittering in a crystal clear ocean. My loose hair whips around as we spin, and I find myself letting go of my arms. I trust York to keep me safe, and I lean back, flinging my hands above my head. Laughter bubbles up from my throat, bursting free. I feel weightless. Happy. Free.
As York slows down, something moves closer, twisting and turning, tumbling and leaping just like the current of the ocean. It teems with life and beauty, but with darkness too. Not the same kind of pitch black of the abyss in the distance. No, this darkness is more like the night sky dotted with stars. It’s beautiful.
“Xeno,” I whisper.
Dropping to my feet, I cup York’s face and kiss him gently, turning in his arms so my back is pressed against his chest, then hold my hand out to Xeno. He takes it, stepping into my body, cushioning me, Xeno at my front, York at my back.
They fold around me, keeping me safe between them.
For just a moment we breathe each other in. Three best friends, soulmates buoyed by our love for each other. I feel a deep sense of belonging in their arms and an unbreakable bond that binds us together. Dax and Zayn might not be with us physically right now, but are carried with us always. We belong to each other, the five of us.
We always have.
As the music cascades around us, Xeno steps backwards and York and I step forwards, our bodies grazing over each other. We move as though we’re one entity, and when York steps out to the side, Xeno and I follow, our movements mirrored, in-sync in a way that shouldn’t be possible, but is.
Together we dance, the ebb and flow of our bond moving our feet, synchronising our steps all whilst we’re joined in some way. A touch of a hand, a brush of lips, arms folding around each other, fingers sliding over bare skin as we lift each other, guide each other, move in sequence, in harmony. The words of the song filter through my consciousness, feeding our movements. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m carried away by the motion, the wonder of our movements. I feel their hands everywhere, on my hips, curling around my wrists, running over my thighs, my arms, cupping the back of my head as we dance. York and Xeno are joined too, they touch each other, support each other as we dance free from outside pressures, worries or pain. We dance with love, friendship, passion and hope. We dance with the kind of magic all dancers hope to find through movement. It whips up the air around us, an indescribable feeling of something unexplainable, powerful.
Xeno grasps my hips and lifts me up in the air, and I feel as though I am drifting on a current as my legs spread out into the splits. I land on light feet only to be passed into York’s arms as he dips me backwards, his fingers trailing over my chest, a wave of pleasure zinging beneath my skin at his touch. When he draws me back up, Xeno steps close behind me, the heat of his body flooding mine. His hands splay over the flat of my stomach, sliding upwards, stilling beneath the curve of my breast. York’s mouth trails over my jaw, sliding over my lips.
Our chest heaves, our breaths coming thick and heavy, full of unspoken words, full of need and love. So much love. I breath York in, my hand clasping his cheek.
We kiss.
Xeno groans, his mouth dropping to my neck, sucking, kissing the delicate, sensitive flesh.
Light and heat sweeps over my body. It fires through my veins, igniting me from the inside out.
I want them badly enough that I don’t care who watches.
I don’t care that the Deana-dhe are in this room with us now.
And neither do York and Xeno. Their erections grind against my stomach and back, their hands, mouth and teeth tease. I turn into liquid heat, warmth pooling between my legs, seeping into the thin material of my knickers.
Let those dark, shadowy men see what it means to truly be loved. Let them see.
With the effect of the drug still flooding my veins I grind my hips against the rigid length of York’s cock, needing the friction, wanting more, needing more. I think I might burst if I don’t get it. Behind me Xeno groans, his fingers playing with my nipples over the material of my dress. His breath is heavy as his teeth and tongue slide over the bare skin of my shoulder.
“Tiny…” he laments, and I understand in that plea what he wants because I want it too.
“I don’t care. I don’t care. Fuck me. Please just love me.”
“Always. We’ll always love you, until the end of fucking time,” Xeno replies, his voice thick with emotion, brimming with love.
“My love, come here,” York says, his hands sliding over my arse. He lifts me up and I straddle his waist, understanding how this is going to play out and not caring about anything other than seeking the ultimate high with these two men, two portions of my soul.
With one hand, York holds me firmly against his chest, with the other he unzips his trousers and frees his cock. Behind me, Xeno slides his hand beneath my dress and pushes the thin material of my knickers to the side.
I’m so wet that his fingers slide through my folds with ease. Circling my clit, Xeno draws out my pleasure, his fingers replaced by the head of York’s cock.
“Oh God,” I cry as York and Xeno bring me to the edge just by their gentle, teasing touches. I’m on the verge already, the heat of their bodies causes mine to flush, a sheen of sweat covering my skin. They’re so close that I don’t know where I end and they begin, the drug rushing through our veins heightening every feeling. It’s indescribable.
Held between them, I’m hidden from view, the only thing on show are my legs and arms cinched against York’s back and neck. My head falls back against Xeno’s shoulder as I release a low, throaty moan.
“Tiny, I need to be inside you,” Xeno murmurs, cupping my chin with one hand as he angles my head and slides his lips over mine. We kiss and we kiss, and we kiss, our tongues twirling, our lips fusing as York continues to slide the thick head of his cock through my folds, making me wetter, hotter, desperate.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. I feel like I’m both within my skin and out of it. I’m fuelled by lust, by love, by this feeling of magic and wonder, just like the song suggests.
“You are ours,” Xeno says, his fingers slide around my arse, one finger dipping in, followed by another, stretching me. I grind into his hand, against York’s teasing cock, seeking more, chasing the pleasure.
“Please,” I beg against Xeno’s lips.
York squeezes me harder against his chest and guides his cock to my entrance, pushing inside of me with one smooth thrust. Stars burst behind my closed eyelids as I take him in, fisting him deep inside. Xeno draws back, allowing me to kiss York who fucks me in slow, smooth thrusts, holding me steady in his arms. Our tongues twine, dancing, twirling seeking warmth, stirring up the light that surrounds the three of us. Then slowly, gently, Xeno removes his fingers in my arse and replaces them with his cock. He slides into me, inch by delicious inch. York stills, a low groan releasing from his lips as he tips his head back, eyes rolling, feeling the slide of Xeno’s cock as much as I do.
When Xeno is fully seated, they move in unison, their cocks separated by a thin wall of muscle. Heat builds, the light that surrounds us expands, reaching out to the corners of the room. Nothing but the feel of them moving within me and our love surrounding us enters my thoughts. Held between them like this, with their lips and tongues sliding over my skin, fingers gently twisting my nipples, cocks sliding, fucking, a finger pressed against my clit drawing out my pleasure, I come undone. We come together, crying out in unison. The white light around us flaring, blinding us, binding us together. Slowly as I come down from the most incredible orgasm I’ve ever experienced, the waves of pleasure ebb away along with the effects of the drug.
“That was…” I begin, words failing me.
“Incredible,” Xeno and York answer in unison.
We laugh in wonder, still very much in our own bubble. It isn’t until Xeno and York pull out of me gently that I tense, reality settling back in as I realise what we’ve just done. “The Deana-dhe,” I whisper.
“Are gone…” Xeno says, pulling my skirt down over my hips and arse as York lowers me to the floor and tucks himself away.
“When? I didn’t notice them leaving.”
“Me either,” York says, removing his t-shirt and dropping to his knees. He swipes the soft cotton between my legs and when he’s done, balls up his t-shirt and stands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t use…”
“A condom. Fuck!” Xeno whispers.
“Don’t. Don’t apologise. We couldn’t help ourselves,” I say softly, cupping his cheek. I’m not panicking about it, far from it. I just feel warm, loved.
“You’re not mad?”
“No. I’m not mad.”
“But what if…”
“Then we deal with it.”
He nods, unspoken words crossing his features, then flicks his gaze to Xeno, his expression darkening. “Those motherfuckers. They got their kicks for the night, then fucked off without telling Pen what she wanted to know.”
“Are you surprised?” Xeno asks, blowing out a steady breath, his fingers flexing and curling into his palm.
“Wait,” I say, noticing a sheet of paper on the sofa, a discarded pencil left lying next to it. My throat tightens and my stomach flips over as I step closer. When my eyes land on the perfectly drawn image, I can’t help but gasp. “No.”
“Tiny?” Xeno asks.
With shaking hands I pick up the piece of paper, drawn on it is an exact copy of a tattoo that I know only too well. The detail is perfect, right down to the shading. In the corner of the piece of paper is Arden’s signature, a message written above it: there’s no tricking fate.
“Titch, what is it?”
I turn around slowly to face them both just as Beast steps into the room. “I made sure that they left before you all started fuck—” he begins, his words cut off by the expression on my face.
“The person Arden was talking about…” I swallow hard, tears pricking my eyes, “It’s Dax,” I whisper, turning the piece of paper around and showing them a perfect replica of his dark angel tattoo.
