Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Heather Long

unnoticed Jude sat up on the sofa, a book hanging limply from his fingers. He gaped at Helcyon. The expression seemed to set Helcyon off further, and his laugh deepened, shaking something old and rusty loose within Jacob’s soul.
    Jacob chuckled. It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten to laugh, but he couldn’t remember the last time genuine mirth raced through him unchecked by deadly danger, worry, or anxiety. The deep belly laugh seemed to resonate through him, tickling forgotten funny bones, and he wheezed for air.
    As abruptly as the humor swamped Helcyon, it tapered off. Helcyon’s expression sobered. His gaze swept from Jacob to Jude and then to the kitchen door. Jacob twisted to follow his line of sight. Paul stared at them, shock mingling with awe in his normally blank expression.
    “I haven’t heard that sound in a really long time.” The sober words dried up Jacob’s humor. He frowned and cut a look to Helcyon. The sound of Fae laughter.
    Real laughter.
    He’d never heard it. Even when Helcyon chuckled, it always held an edge, a counterweight to genuine mirth. With Cassie, intensity lingered in every deliberate action and flavored every word.
    Was this really the first time he heard the Elf laugh?
    “My apologies.” Helcyon exhaled. “I think I had forgotten how it felt to be so amused.”
    “Wow,” came the understated response from their youngest Wizard. Jude continued to stare at Helcyon like he was Hendrix risen from the ashes.
    “Breathe, Jude.” Paul walked into the living room and stood between Jude and the Elf, breaking his line of sight. “Breathe.”
    “What the hell was that?” Jacob’s ears hummed, a low-level buzzing that seemed to fill his head. An icy hot sensation skated over his nerves and filtered through his extremities. If he hadn’t just come down to get coffee, he could almost believe he was drunk.
    “That is the lure of the Fae.” Paul’s words held no censure, but the same could not be said for his expression. “I didn’t think it would work anymore…we’ve been around you for months, and I’ve never felt it before today.”
    “He hasn’t laughed for real before today.” Jacob focused his attention on Paul, brows drawing together in a frown. “He didn’t do it to seduce us.”
    “Easy, Jacob.” Helcyon’s hand came down on his shoulder. He would typically have shrugged off the contact, but it steadied him. Just like yesterday when their shields blended seamlessly together, it reinforced his sense of self and brought him greater clarity.
    “Mother of the Gods.” The epithet rolled out of him, and he twisted to look at Helcyon. Greater clarity, greater connection. He could hear the hum of the Elf’s thoughts. A feeling he’d never experienced before the day or night before. He’d experienced Helcyon’s sex with Cassie, his body responding to their fevered coupling.
    “Yeah, I’m going to say we have a lot to talk about. Jude.” Paul gave the younger Wizard a kick. “Go shower and get some hematite on that wrist of yours. Salt, too.”
    “‘The hell for?” Jude’s words slurred, but Paul ignored him and gave the younger Wizard a boost up and a shove in the direction of their wing of the house. He followed in his wake.
    Jacob stared after them, and more because he thought he should than out of any real need or desire, he stepped away from Helcyon. The lack of his hand and physical connection didn’t diminish the mental or emotional one.
    Or was it a magical one?
    “Just tell me this isn’t on purpose.” His jaw clenched and he didn’t turn around. He didn’t dare look at the Fae lest the odd sensations running riot through his senses turn out to be glamour.
    “It’s not.” The simple response lacked artifice or the notion that the Elf placated him. Jacob wanted like hell to believe that their friendship hadn’t turned into some sucker punch of allure that fostered faux loyalty.
    Wanting to believe him and actually doing it, however, were