her. He took her hand, an unusually serious expression on his face. “I’m sorry we cannot give your home back to you, beloved, but, if you let us, we can create a new one for you.”
His words raced through her, bringing a tremor of longing with them. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted all along, a new home? A place where she’d feel safe and loved? And here they were, offering it to her on a silver platter.
“If we were to return to Spygia, you would not be alone,” Tempos murmured. “Your cousin would be with you.”
“And never fear, Cindra,” Stefon added. “We could protect you, no matter what circumstances we face. You are our family, as well as your cousin and now her mates. Together, we are so much stronger.”
“Invincible,” Devan vowed, his blue eyes flashing.
Gods, when they said those words, she believed them. Even more, she felt the veracity of their words down to her soul.
She didn’t want to turn away. Just the thought of being without the four of them made her long to howl in agony. It seemed that, somewhere along the line, she’d fallen for them too. And she didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.
Raking her steady gaze over them one by one, she clenched her fists and took the leap that both terrified and exhilarated her.
“Make me yours. I want to be your mate.”
Bannor sucked in his breath, his silver eyes growing molten. Dimly she was aware of each of the men’s gazes burning into her. Tension sparked the air, thickening it with lust and love and hope.
“Are you sure?” Bannor whispered, his voice harsh and uneven.
She locked gazes with him. “Never surer of anything.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Rising, he wordlessly held out his hand. Her pulse soared as she took it, allowing him to guide her to her feet.
Devan stepped to her other side, taking her free hand and bringing it to his lips. His fierce gaze burning through her, he murmured, “You won’t regret this, beloved.”
Cindra took a shaky breath. Lust and apprehension built inside her, working her into a boiling mass of confusion. She was about to take these four wonderful, delicious men as her lovers. As her mates. It was enough to bring a woman to her knees, especially one with such little experience in matters of the flesh.
Almost as if he sensed her nerves, Stefon cocked a brow. “Are you afraid, love?”
“No.” But the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“Don’t be,” Bannor whispered. “We would never do anything you didn’t wish us to do.”
“I know.” That was part of the reason why she was agreeing to become theirs, because she knew they’d never harm her. That they’d treasure her always.
“Come.” Bannor turned and led the way toward a paneled door at the far end of the room. She’d noticed it before, but hadn’t thought to question what lay beyond. She’d assumed it served as a storage room of some sort, but clearly that wasn’t the case. The door opened when Bannor approached, and they stepped inside a small chamber, the focus of which was a plush chair set upon a small, raised platform. The burgundy, velvet-covered chair had armrests, but its back was strange. Rather than a ninety degree angle, it curved backward, ensuring the person sitting upon it would be at a half incline.
“What’s this?” she whispered.
Bannor’s brow lifted as he looked at her. “Remember I told you there is a ritual to confirm one’s mate? This is the ritual throne. You are to sit upon it.”
“Oh.” Weird, but it wasn’t as if Chivea hadn’t had its own share of strange customs. Shrugging, she moved to sit upon the chair, but Bannor stopped her with a tug on her hand.
“Wait.”
Turning, she looked back at him.
“Not yet.”
Just when she was about to question him, he bent toward her. Her heart clenched in response to the flexing of his rock-solid pectorals, but then his lips claimed hers, and her eyes fluttered shut.
Gods, but he kissed like the devil. Hot and hard and
His words raced through her, bringing a tremor of longing with them. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted all along, a new home? A place where she’d feel safe and loved? And here they were, offering it to her on a silver platter.
“If we were to return to Spygia, you would not be alone,” Tempos murmured. “Your cousin would be with you.”
“And never fear, Cindra,” Stefon added. “We could protect you, no matter what circumstances we face. You are our family, as well as your cousin and now her mates. Together, we are so much stronger.”
“Invincible,” Devan vowed, his blue eyes flashing.
Gods, when they said those words, she believed them. Even more, she felt the veracity of their words down to her soul.
She didn’t want to turn away. Just the thought of being without the four of them made her long to howl in agony. It seemed that, somewhere along the line, she’d fallen for them too. And she didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.
Raking her steady gaze over them one by one, she clenched her fists and took the leap that both terrified and exhilarated her.
“Make me yours. I want to be your mate.”
Bannor sucked in his breath, his silver eyes growing molten. Dimly she was aware of each of the men’s gazes burning into her. Tension sparked the air, thickening it with lust and love and hope.
“Are you sure?” Bannor whispered, his voice harsh and uneven.
She locked gazes with him. “Never surer of anything.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Rising, he wordlessly held out his hand. Her pulse soared as she took it, allowing him to guide her to her feet.
Devan stepped to her other side, taking her free hand and bringing it to his lips. His fierce gaze burning through her, he murmured, “You won’t regret this, beloved.”
Cindra took a shaky breath. Lust and apprehension built inside her, working her into a boiling mass of confusion. She was about to take these four wonderful, delicious men as her lovers. As her mates. It was enough to bring a woman to her knees, especially one with such little experience in matters of the flesh.
Almost as if he sensed her nerves, Stefon cocked a brow. “Are you afraid, love?”
“No.” But the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“Don’t be,” Bannor whispered. “We would never do anything you didn’t wish us to do.”
“I know.” That was part of the reason why she was agreeing to become theirs, because she knew they’d never harm her. That they’d treasure her always.
“Come.” Bannor turned and led the way toward a paneled door at the far end of the room. She’d noticed it before, but hadn’t thought to question what lay beyond. She’d assumed it served as a storage room of some sort, but clearly that wasn’t the case. The door opened when Bannor approached, and they stepped inside a small chamber, the focus of which was a plush chair set upon a small, raised platform. The burgundy, velvet-covered chair had armrests, but its back was strange. Rather than a ninety degree angle, it curved backward, ensuring the person sitting upon it would be at a half incline.
“What’s this?” she whispered.
Bannor’s brow lifted as he looked at her. “Remember I told you there is a ritual to confirm one’s mate? This is the ritual throne. You are to sit upon it.”
“Oh.” Weird, but it wasn’t as if Chivea hadn’t had its own share of strange customs. Shrugging, she moved to sit upon the chair, but Bannor stopped her with a tug on her hand.
“Wait.”
Turning, she looked back at him.
“Not yet.”
Just when she was about to question him, he bent toward her. Her heart clenched in response to the flexing of his rock-solid pectorals, but then his lips claimed hers, and her eyes fluttered shut.
Gods, but he kissed like the devil. Hot and hard and
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