The air shifted and rage mingled with the ambient lust. Fen was back, and much sooner than I’d anticipated. If that mood filtered into the club, the night could fall apart. I headed to cut him off and make sure he didn’t linger in the main room.

  I didn’t need to worry, as he found me halfway down the hall. “What happened?” I asked.

  He pressed a hand to my throat and pushed me toward the nearest door—a lounge that only myself and personal guests used.

  My desire spiked when he sank teeth into my shoulder when it met my neck and his growl rumbled through my skin. I didn’t care why he was doing this, as long as I got to feel him. To taste him. I had enough presence of mind to detach the room from the club. I didn’t want Fen or I to hold back, and it was crucial that whatever emotions Fen radiated right now didn’t reach out into the club.

  Fen pushed me hard enough to slam me into a wall. Plaster dust rained down around us and the supports shook.

  I could ask him to calm down—though that didn’t seem smart right now—or at least tell him no. But I didn’t want that. I needed this to be rough. To hurt. I wanted to lose myself in every sensation that awaited me.

  With his claws extended enough to be threatening, Fen ripped at my clothes. He cut through my trousers, shredded my boxer briefs, and tossed the ruined clothing aside. His fist wrapped around my cock tightly enough to hurt.

  Creation that felt incredible. Apparently I needed this outlet as much as he did. Time to provoke the beast. I made Fen’s clothing vanish with a flick of my wrist.

  It was difficult to tell if his growl was anger or desire—probably a mix of both. He pinned me to the wall again, kissing me hard enough to cut my lips into my teeth while he squeezed me by the throat.

  I shoved back, sending him stumbling away a few steps.

  Fen snarled, wrapped his fingers around my upper arm, and spun me away from him. He shoved me to my knees on the couch, and the legs of the furniture splintered and collapsed.

  When the sofa fell, it jarred me. I didn’t care. No one commanded me in the bedroom except for Fen, and I loved it when he owned me.

  He pressed his chest against my back and fisted my cock. The way he jerked was rough. He yanked until my hips bucked with the need for more. Until climax swelled inside me. Until my balls were tight and I was ready to burst.

  And he pulled his touch away before I came.

  I grunted in disappointment, and then with surprise when he pressed his palm between my shoulder blades and shoved me forward. I had to catch the back of the couch to hold myself up, and clenched the wood so tightly it splintered under my grip.

  Fen spread my ass cheeks and plunged his cock inside me without warning. The agony was perfection. He fucked me hard and fast, digging his fingers into my hips. Slamming into me hard enough the couch rocked with each thrust.

  I kept one hand on the sofa to steady myself and fisted my cock with the other. I stroked in time to Fen’s pounding. The physical was good, but the raw primal lust that spilled from him was intoxicating.

  He spilled inside me with a roaring howl that reverberated off the walls. His orgasm, the moment, the ambient desire in the air, pushed me over the edge as well. I beat my cock until I was raw, splattering the already ruined couch with cum.

  This was the kind of buzz I could ride for weeks, and I hadn’t felt anything so potent in a long time. This was my equivalent of a sacrifice. This was worship at its finest. And I’d been missing it because Fen was holding back. Not just his wolf and desire to battle, but his desire everywhere.

  What had I done by muzzling this glorious creature?

  Nine

  Fenrir

  The red was finally fading from my mind. I could recline on the lounge sofa, Fen draped over me, and I could think again.

  “What happened?” His voice was calm, almost drowsy.

  “I broke security’s suppression spell, and they ejected me.” The entire thing almost seemed surreal now. Like I’d watched it play out through someone else’s eyes. But I hadn’t—it had been all me, and it was clear that trying to ignore that part of me was no longer a wise idea.

  The mood in here was too subdued to tell Frey that right now.

  He tilted his head to look me in the eye. “You broke the spell? No one does that.”

  I shrugged. “None of them are me.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” Frey relaxed against me again.

  We reclined in comfortable silence long enough that the pleasant haze thinned in my head and reality slipped back. The feeling wasn’t harsh, but it did make it difficult to sit and do nothing.

  “Should we move back to the club?” I didn’t assume Frey had let us break this room to pieces and fuck like animals while we were anywhere near people.

  The way he sat up indicated he wasn’t in a hurry to do much of anything. “Probably.”

  I didn’t feel the shift of the room becoming part of NEON again, but I smelled the change in the air as chaos and desire clogged my senses.

  And it was okay.

  There was something—someone—mingled with it all. I smiled. “Dahlia’s back. In the bar.”

  Frey stood and pulled me to my feet. “Change and go find her?”

  “We could go out there like this.” I didn’t care that what little we still wore was torn and barely staying on, but the people out there might. Such a repressed society.

  Frey shook his head. “Or we could put on clothing that has the appropriate number of holes.”

  “But really, that number is debatable.” I really was feeling better.

  Frey chuckled.

  After a quick trip to the apartment for a wardrobe change, we headed back into the club. Sure enough, Dahlia was seated at a table in a back corner, looking as delicious as the first time I’d ever met her.

  She had her laptop up, and it seemed like she was engrossed, but experience said she was aware of every single thing happening around her.

  We approached and I slid into the bench seat across from her while Frey took the seat next to her.

  One corner of her mouth quirked up, but she kept her gaze on the screen while her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “Buy you a drink, gorgeous?” Frey may be the only individual in the world who could keep a line like that from sounding too sleazy.

  Though, I was heavily biased.

  “No need. I blew the bartender when I got here, and he said my drinks were free.”

  I wasn’t the only one whose mood had improved.

  Frey met my gaze, amusement playing on his face. “You didn’t invite us to watch?”

  “You weren’t here. I had to occupy myself somehow.” There was a hint of teasing in Dahlia’s voice, but she maintained her I’m busy posture.

  Frey rested a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his. “You can’t even muster an apology?”

  “I mean…” Dahlia shrugged. “He came in my mouth and didn’t warn me. I’m pretty sorry about that.”

  My snort of laughter slipped out.

  Frey rolled his eyes and let go of Dahlia. “I’ll have a talk with him about that. How grossly inappropriate.” Even his sarcasm was playful.

  “Right? That was what I said.” Dahlia turned sideways in her seat and rested one leg on the bench, pressing her leg into Frey’s thigh. “Apology accepted. Next time, don’t put me in that position.”

  “Of course not, your highness,” I said. “Which position would you prefer? Suspended from the ceiling by your wrists? By some well-placed ropes?”

  “Hmm…” She practically purred. “Either one of those sounds like fun. Next time. And you know I was just kidding, don’t you? I didn’t actually blow your bartender.”

  I laughed. Her explaining the joke seemed so appropriate that it was the perfect punchline. “We realize.”

  “How did it go with Artura?” Frey asked.

  Dahlia turned her gaze back to her computer and her smile vanished. “She helped me make up my mind about some things, and confirmed others.”

  “Confirmed what?” Frey prodded.

  There was no good time to bring up this topic, and I hated holding onto it. “Confirmed what Vidar said?”

  Dahlia’s eyes grew wide, and then she slumped in her seat. “You heard that? And no. But I guess also yes.”

  “Thank you for clearing that up.” With a sigh, Frey straightened himself on the bench. “What do you both know that I don’t?”

  It wasn’t my secret to tell, but it wasn’t one I could keep. I looked at Dahlia, hoping she’d take the initiative.

  “Vidar is my father. Apparently.” Her words landed between us like a stone.

  “I’m sorry.” Frey’s reply came so quickly, so sincerely, that it was almost comical. But it was also the best response I could’ve imagined.

  I did love him.

  A sad smile crossed Dahlia’s face. “Me too.”

  That was it? Quite unlike her. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I really don’t. But I’ve been researching. Fascinating stuff. I discovered—”

  The music kicked on for the next dancer, drowning Dahlia out and making my ears ring. Why did she sit so close to a speaker?

  I grasped her hand, pointed to her laptop to indicate she should grab it, and Frey and I tugged her toward his office. We’d normally default to the lounge, but that needed some new furniture first.

  Frey’s office was large and decorated like a lot of the rest of the club—with leather furniture, and neon decorating the walls. The hooks and bars that were accessible from the ceiling weren’t as obvious.

  The three of us made ourselves comfortable on a corner sectional with Dahlia in the middle. She set her laptop up, revealing at least half a dozen screens overlapping each other, including a browser with multiple tabs open.

  “You don’t have to read them all, but you can.” She gestured at the screen. “It was a lot easier than I thought to find a series of keywords. And okay, so he didn’t want the kids, and yeah that makes him an asshole, but he went out of his way to keep an eye on me. On us, supposedly. He watched us being raised and tortured and suffering. Who the fuck does that?”

  She wanted to talk about Vidar after all.

  And I understood. “Loki did.” I’d distanced myself from my father centuries ago, and the relationship existed in name only, but a much younger me had been in a similar position to the one Dahlia was in now. Wondering why? “You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling right now.”

  “I’m really not.” Dahlia turned back to her computer. “But I think I know where more of my siblings are. Who they are…” She bit her bottom lip. “I think I’m figuring out what kind of code TOM took from me, and I think this is the beginning of recreating it.”

  We hadn’t been gone that long. “It hasn’t even been a day.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not a complicated script. I can do so much more with this and just a few more resources.”

  Something told me there was more to the situation than that, but it wasn’t a suspicion I could define enough to pursue. However, if this was even a hint of what TOM had gleaned from her, no wonder they wanted her to either help them expand on the technology, or wanted her dead to keep her from recreating it.

  Ten

  Dahlia

  I hadn’t told Frey and Fen everything, but I’d told them enough. The longer I worked, the louder my own thoughts roared, reminding me I could burn a lot to the ground this way. TOM. Vidar. The other members of the board.

  I wasn’t holding back out of some strange sense of that’s not right. Fuck them. But I wanted to make sure when I used this information to infiltrate and destroy, that I did it with a level head, rather than rushing in half-assed like a butt-hurt little girl whose daddy didn’t love her.

  He’d made sure I was trained better than that.

  Fen and Frey gave me blank stares as I tried to explain to them what I’d done and how it worked.

  “I’m trying to keep it simple.” I couldn’t hide my frustration.

  Frey squeezed my knee. “And I have no doubt it’s brilliant.”

  I needed another approach. “It’s like Cerebro, in X-Men. But I don’t need to be bald. Or wear a metal helmet.”

  “I get that reference.” Fen grinned. Frey shot him a look and he shrugged. “What? I got that reference.”

  My phone rang. Magnus would get it. I hit the Answer button. “Jello.”

  “Hey. Saw you called.” Her voice filtered from the speaker.

  I’d done that when the shock of the fight with Vidar was still fresh in my mind. If I let my thoughts linger too long, it would rush back, along with the pain of his attacks. Which was why I wasn’t letting my mind sit idle. “Yeah. Like… hours ago.”

  “Sorry. I got back and Kirby wanted to go somewhere, and now we’re spinning our wheels and I just had a chance to check my missed calls.”

  Inspiration struck—this always went better with Magnus’s help, and Kirby knew more about infiltrating TOM than almost anyone. “Is she still there? Are you free? You should come help me hack the system.”

  There was a pause and some muffled mumbling before Magnus said, “Okay. Come get us.”

  I gave Frey my best baby-dragon-pleading eyes, complete with a pout and batting my eyelashes.

  “I’m not a taxi service.” His mouth was twisted in bemusement. “Where?”

  Magnus gave him a location, and it was one he was familiar with. He vanished.

  What did I need to do to get my power to a point where I could pull off that same trick? Was Artura right that I hadn’t fully embraced my dragon?

  No. Because I could shift. Besides, today I was focusing on my true gift—digitally destroying Daddy Vidar.

  Frey returned quickly with Magnus and two others. Kirby had been a classmate of Magnus’s and mine—one of TOM’s top assassins. Except she was also a Valkyrie, the last until she started granting the gift to Magnus and others, who had lived twelve lives before this.

  She gave Fen a long hug. She’d been friends with both him and Frey in previous lives, and since finding them again in this life, she’d rekindled that relationship.

  One of the gods Kirby had loved in several of those lives, Gwydion, was also with them. He gave Fen a hug too.

  Kirby glanced around the office after everyone exchanged greetings. “Is this the best place to talk?”

  “The lounge isn’t in any condition for company.” Fen’s smirk implied the reasons for that were fun rather than bad.

  Or maybe he and Frey were having bad fun. I jutted out my bottom lip. “And I missed it?”

  Kirby wrinkled her nose. “Speaking of the things you do to furniture… I appreciate the hospitality, but I know what these couches are used for, and I’m not sitting on them.”

  “Wait…” A thought tickled my mind. Frey and Fen had slept with a lot of people over the centuries, and I had a hard time believing Kirby had been celibate in every single life. It never mattered to me before, but her, plus them… “Have the three of you…? Past life or something?”

  “Hard no.” Kirby snorted.

  Frey raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” His tone carried an unspoken vibe of countless people have pledged their souls just for a taste of the pleasures my cock offers.

  “But it’s true,” Kirby said. “Sleeping with Fen or Frey would be like… sex with a brother.”

  “Magnus fucked my father.” The words tumbled past my lips before I could stop them.

  Magnus stared at me, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Who?” Kirby asked.

  Right. I hadn’t told anyone but Frey or Fen yet. “I had a run-in with Vidar.”

  “No.” Kirby sounded scandalized.

  “How?” Magnus asked.

  Gwydion laughed. “When a mommy dragon and a daddy god each think the other is hot—”

  Kirby smacked him lightly on the arm, but she was watching me. “I need you to be explicit about this. Not the sex part, please. Not when it comes to him. Vidar is your father?”

  “Apparently.” I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “If I may,” Frey said. “Since her royal queen Valkyrie refuses to sit on the sofa, the bar will be closing soon. Let’s move this conversation out there. I’m going to need a drink—or ten—to do this.”

  Our small group relocated to the main floor of the club, where things were winding down. The bartender was so stoic—he tended to creep me out, because he just… watched. Fen told him to see to everyone else, and stepped behind the bar to get drinks for our group.

  I told them about my encounter with Vidar, and the conversation with Artura after. They didn’t need to know that she’d piled me down with children’s fairy tales, in an effort to make light of my dragon problem, but I told them the rest, including that she’d confirmed what Vidar said.

  “So she looked at you and told you who your parents were? Why didn’t she do that before? Can she do that for all of us? All of us being me.” Magnus finished softly.

  Gwydion took a long drag off his bottle of beer. “It’s not like Artura looks at you and sees your family tree. It’s more like she sees your aura and recognizes the similarities to others. Like a visual chromosome scan.”

  Great. He knew more about my kind than I did.

  Kirby covered my hand. “Does that mean you can do that too? Can you see all of me in me, or just current me?”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.” I was stalling. Despite the confusing question, I understood what she was asking. Could I see her past lives in her aura or only her current one? But it was easier to pretend I was confused than admit there was yet another dragon thing I couldn’t do.

  “Is this really the conversation we want to be having at this moment?” Frey asked.

  I wanted to kiss him for the redirect.

  Magnus downed her shot of tequila and nudged her glass away. “I was promised we were hacking TOM. Tell me what to do.”

  She was pretty awesome, too.

  The bar emptied as the six of us dove into research mode. Magnus looked over my shoulder, offering feedback wherever I needed it. We’d always made a great team, and this was why—she saw the things I overlooked and I did the same for her.

 

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