Mated To Rival Kings

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Raven's POV

It was past nine in the morning, but the sky had surrendered to a deep, bruised purple that made the world look as dark as six in the evening. A storm was rolling in heavy. Through the walls of the suite, we could hear the mansion staff scurrying about, shutters banging and furniture being moved. This place had stood for centuries, so a bit of wind was nothing new, but the atmosphere felt charged with more than just rain.

We all stood up from the rug, the remnants of our pancake breakfast forgotten. Darian stretched his arms over his head. "I’m going to take a bath," he announced.

"Me too," Valen added immediately.

Darian paused, giving him a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. "Excuse me?"

Valen shrugged, looking far too casual. "What? We’re both guys, Darian."

"The answer is no," Darian said flatly. He turned on his heel and walked toward his room, likely to grab his towel and soaps before Valen could try to follow.

Valen watched him go, then dropped back onto the sofa. He patted the space right beside him, looking at me. "Sit, Raven."

I sat, the cushions dipping under my weight. "Tell me about your pack," he said suddenly.

I let out a soft laugh. "That’s an odd thing to ask out of nowhere."

"I just want to know about you," he countered, his voice losing some of its habitual edge. "Everything about you."

"Well, there’s not much to tell," I said, looking at the fireplace where the logs were still cold. "I’m from the Inker pack. They took me in after my parents abandoned me. It wasn't exactly a fairy tale, but I have a best friend named Diane. She’s the one who is mates with Alpha Storm."

Valen’s expression turned disgruntled at the mention of the name. "The one-eyed Alpha?"

"He unsettles you too, right?" I asked, glad to have someone validate the feeling.

Valen leaned back, his arm draping across the top of the sofa behind my head. "I wouldn’t say 'unsettles,' but the feeling I get from him... it just doesn’t feel right. He’s like a puzzle with missing pieces."

I nodded, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. The dream of the silver-haired woman flashed through my mind, and I realized this was the perfect time to bring it up. "Valen, I’ve been having some strange experiences lately. Dreams, mostly. And things I can’t explain."

Valen turned his head toward me, his gaze sharpening. "Tell me."

"When Darian comes out," I promised. "I want you both to hear it."

The wind outside was howling now, a low whistle through the cracks of the windows. I huddled closer to Valen, seeking his warmth, and he didn't seem to mind one bit. He shifted, pulling me slightly more into his space.

"Do you have hobbies?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light. "What do you like to do when you’re not being a terrifying King?"

"Torture people," he said instantly.

I looked up at him in alarm, my eyes wide. He let out a low, rough chuff which was his version of a laugh.

"Of course not," he said, though he added with a wink, "although it is something I’m fairly good at. My real hobbies are listening to music and running. Just running until my lungs burn."

He looked down at me then, and suddenly, the air in the room felt very thin. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel the heat radiating from him, fanning across my skin. His scent, that sharp, invigorating citrus flared up, filling the space between us. His eyes went hooded, dark and focused, and he began to lean in awkwardly to kiss me.

A loud throat-clear cut through the silence.

We both jumped. Darian was standing there, leaning against the doorframe. He was wrapped in a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his broad shoulders. He had an unreadable look in his eyes.

I instantly felt like a teenager caught doing something bad. I pulled away from Valen, smoothing my hair. I knew that until we all figured out how this three-way bond was supposed to work, there would always be this awkward friction.

Valen, ever the provocateur, let out a low whistle. "Looking good, Your Majesty."

"Knock it off," Darian said. He shuffled on his feet, looking unusually uncertain. "I am really not comfortable with this," he said, waving a hand vaguely toward the sofa to indicate what he’d interrupted. "But... I want to know about it if anything does happen. I don't want to be left in the dark."

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Valen just drawled, "Sure thing, Darian."

As if punctuated by the tension, the rain finally broke. It hit the roof of the mansion with a sound like a thousand drumbeats, rushing down in a heavy, blinding curtain. Darian retreated to his room to get dressed as the temperature in the suite plummeted.

By the time he came back out, dressed in a thick sweater and slacks, the power suddenly flickered and died. The mansion used minimal electricity, relying mostly on oil lamps, but the sudden absence of the hum of light made the room feel vast and cold.

A staff member arrived a moment later to light the fire in our lounge. Once they left, we were left in the flickering orange glow of the hearth. We sat huddled near the fire in a comforting, if slightly stiff, silence.

"Let's play a game," I suggested.

Darian immediately looked uninterested, but Valen perked up. "What kind of game?"

"I learned it from Diane. It's called 'Never Have I Ever,'" I explained. "Usually, people play it with alcohol, but we can play it just to get to know each other better."

I looked at them both. "Are we in?"

Valen nodded. We both looked at Darian, who let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. I’m in."

We sat in a small circle on the rug. "I'll start," I said. "We each ask one question, then it moves to the next person. We start with ten fingers up. If you have done the thing mentioned, you drop a finger. The person who drops all ten first loses. Honesty is important."

They both nodded, their faces serious in the firelight.

"Never have I ever... smoked," I said.

My ten fingers remained firmly up. Darian’s stayed up, too. But slowly, with a scowl, Valen dropped one finger.

Darian laughed, a bright, mocking sound. "What a life you lead, Valen."

"You are in no place to judge me, Southern boy," Valen snapped. "You're next."

Valen leaned forward. "Never have I ever... not worn a shirt without ironing it first."

Darian’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated for a second, then slowly dropped a finger. Valen let out a howl of laughter that echoed through the dark suite. "The Golden King! Such a perfectionist!"

"It is called being proper!" Darian defended himself. He took a breath, his competitive streak finally showing. "My turn. Never have I ever... not had sex."

Valen’s laughter stopped as if someone had flipped a switch. He looked at Darian with an expression of pure, unmitigated betrayal.

Darian chuckled. "Well?"

Valen huffed, his face reddening as he dropped a finger. I turned to him in genuine astonishment. "Really? How? I thought you... as a King, I mean..."

"I was too unstable in previous years," Valen muttered, looking at the fire. "I was afraid I’d hurt whoever I got with. My wolf was too close to the surface."

Then they both looked at me. I realized I had also dropped a finger. I blushed furiously, looking at my hands. Thankfully, neither of them commented on it, though I could feel their curiosity.

"My turn," I said quickly. "Never have I ever kissed someone."

Darian’s was the only hand that went down.

Valen looked at Darian with a mixture of awe and annoyance. "How does it feel being the only person here who didn't save himself for his mate?"

Darian looked a bit upset by the jab, but he shot back instantly. "At least I won't be fumbling like an amateur when the time comes. Which, considering your lack of experience, might be a real concern."

Valen shut up, a look of genuine contemplation crossing his face. "But how much skill is really needed for a kiss? It’s just two sets of lips meshing together in an uncoordinated dance."

Darian wagged a finger, a smirk playing on his lips. "Uh-uh. It’s an art. I can show you, though."

All color drained from Valen’s face. He looked horrified. Darian scoffed. "Not with you, i***t. With Raven."

I sputtered, my heart racing. "Me? Don’t involve me! I’m just a spectator to whatever is happening here!"

Darian’s smirk turned into something more intense. "But you’re at the center of it all, Raven."

Valen narrowed his eyes. He looked at Darian, then at me, and finally back at Darian. With a look of extreme, painful reluctance, he muttered, "Show me."

I didn't even have time to take another breath. Before I could process what was happening, Darian’s hand reached out. It wrapped firmly but gently around the back of my neck, pulling me toward him.

And then, King Darian Callisto was kissing me.