Merry f*****g-bloody Christmas

Day 1 @ the palace 💦

I signed the contract because I’m a coward with a sick mom and a mortgage-sized dream of freedom.

Article 7, subsection C was printed in perfect calligraphy: “The selected florist shall remain available, accommodating, and visibly fuckable at all hours…” Fuckable. They really wrote that. My hand shook so hard the S in Seraphina looked drunk.

The doors hadn’t even finished opening when Princess Liana stalked in, boots ringing on marble like gunshots. She took one slow look at me (eyes dragging over my chest, my hips, my throat) and laughed, low and bitter.

“Jesus. Those t**s are even bigger in person.”

She stepped so close I smelled leather and gun oil. “Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve spent bent over for the twins just to keep them distracted from bringing random omegas in here? And now you waltz in looking like a walking wet dream. Great. Just great.”

I opened my mouth (something brave, something stupid), but the air changed. Thickened. Like someone cranked the heat up ten degrees and poured honey over everything.

Then they walked in.

Cassian first, then Calder right behind him, moving like mirror images of the same nightmare. White shirts unbuttoned just enough to show collarbones sharp enough to cut, sleeves rolled high, veins standing out on their forearms. Tattoos of their wolves on their chest, with tails circling their arms.

Their eyes (storm-gray and starving) locked on me and never moved again.

Cassian reached me in three silent steps. His hand came up slow, giving me all the time in the world to run. I didn’t. Couldn’t. His palm cupped my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth, and he just… breathed me in. Nose tracing the line of my throat, lips barely grazing skin. My pulse went haywire; I felt it fluttering against his mouth.

“Test one,” he murmured, voice velvet and gravel. “Sensitive to touch. Look at her—goosebumps already.”

Behind me, Calder laughed, dark and hungry. “My turn.”

His hand cracked across my ass without warning—hard, perfect sting that lit every nerve on fire. I gasped so loud it echoed.

Fuck, I shouldn't have shown that. So much for my plans to be insensitive to their touches. My hips jerked forward, straight into Cassian’s chest.

He caught me, one arm sliding around my waist, the other tipping my chin higher so I had to look at him.

Calder pressed in from behind, letting me feel every inch of how hard he already was. He rolled his hips once, slow, deliberate, the ridge of his c**k dragging up the cleft of my ass through our clothes.

Shit… I imagined how deep he'd go in me. Jesus!

“f**k, feel that shiver?” he said against my ear. “She likes getting spanked. Test one passed, princess.”

I tried to find words (any words), but all that came out was this pathetic little whimper.

Cassian’s hand drifted down my body like he owned it. Over my breast (thumb circling my n****e through the blouse until it ached), down the curve of my waist, fingers splaying over my stomach. Then lower. He hooked the hem of my skirt, dragged it up just enough, and slipped straight into my panties.

Two thick fingers slid through my folds, parting me, gathering slick. I was humiliatingly drenched. He didn’t even have to search.

He pulled them out slow, held them up between us. They glistened like glass. It was a confirmation of my failure. A proof that I had failed at day one. These two got me.

“Test two,” he announced, almost gentle. “Gets wet instantly for a slippery passage. Look at this, Cal—she’s practically crying for it.”

Calder groaned, grabbed Cassian’s wrist, and licked those fingers clean right in front of my face. Tongue curling, eyes locked on mine the whole time.

Eew!

“Tastes like desperation,” he said when he was done. “We’re keeping her.”

I couldn’t stand. My knees folded and Cassian let me sag against him, his hand still cupping my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek like I was something precious and already broken.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “You passed the first two tests. There’ll be more.”

Calder leaned in, teeth grazing the shell of my ear. “Tonight we find out how loud you scream when we’re both inside you.”

Then they just… walked away. Laughing quietly, like they’d done nothing more than taste a new wine.

Liana had vanished the second their hands landed on me. Smart woman.

I stood there shaking, thighs slick, c**t throbbing so hard I could feel it in my teeth. My own scent (sweet, needy omega) filled the room and I hated it. Hated them. Hated how my body sang for them like I’d been born for exactly this.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I answered with trembling fingers.

“Little flower…”

It was him. Rafael.

“Tell me they touched you. Cos I'm sure they will.”

I couldn’t speak.

“I can smell you from here,” he said, and I swear my knees almost gave out again. “Midnight in three days. East gate. You let me in, or I get your mother even while you're still in there.”

Click.

Rafael did it all. The recommendation, the appraisal, all in secret. Just to get me into the palace. Now he's coming out plain.

I ran blindly and shoved open the first door I found. Library. Wrong choice. I was looking for an exit.

I don’t even remember how I got there. Corridors blurred, marble cold under my heels, heartbeat still stuck somewhere between my thighs. I just needed quiet. Somewhere to breathe that didn’t smell like alpha and sin.

Silence. Dust and old paper and the faint scent of leather. Perfect. Except it wasn’t silent.

A low, rhythmic sound floated between the shelves. Wet. Slapping. Breathless. The unmistakable beat of bodies colliding.

tat-tat-tat-tat… then a loud one. A spank on a flesh.

My stomach flipped. I was already soaked (Cassian’s fingers, Calder’s palm, my own slick still cooling on my thighs), and that sound slid straight into my bloodstream like a second hit of something illegal. My n*****s tightened so fast it hurt. I hated myself for it.

I should have turned around. Instead I followed the noise like a moth that already knows the flame is going to kill it.

Deeper into the stacks. Past ladders and moonlight slicing through high windows. The sounds grew louder: soft moans, the creak of wood, skin on skin, faster now.

I rounded the last corner and froze.

There, bent over an antique reading table, skirt flipped up to her waist, panty down to the knee, was a plump woman I’d seen earlier. Her knuckles white on the edges, mouth open in a silent scream.

Behind her stood the librarian. The same quiet, delicate woman who’d greeted me that morning with a shy smile and a stack of botanical texts. Porcelain skin, soft voice, tiny waist… and trousers shoved down just enough to free the thickest c**k I’d ever seen. Veined, flushed dark, slick with the other woman’s arousal, it disappeared again and again into the lady’s body with fast thrusts that made the table legs scrape the floor.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. A woman? With a c**k? I was riveted on the spot, processing.

The librarian’s head snapped up. Her eyes (pale green, almost gentle) locked on mine. Shock flashed across her face first, pure, startled, cheeks going pink. Then recognition. Then something wicked curled her lips.

The bent plump woman noticed too. She twisted her head, saw me, and instead of screaming she just laughed, breathless and mean.

“Shoo!” she gasped between thrusts.

The librarian never stopped moving. One brow lifted in silent dare.

My face burned so hot I felt dizzy. I stumbled backward, nearly tripped over my own feet, spun, and ran. Books blurred past me, moonlight and shadows, my pulse roaring louder than my heels on the marble.

I didn’t stop until a maid caught my arm and steered me, shaking and half-blind, to my room and ocked the door with that little pity smile.

I collapsed on the bed and just… unraveled.

I was soaked. Aching. Empty and aching and furious. My n*****s hurt. My c**t pulsed every time I remembered Calder’s hand cracking down, Cassian’s fingers sliding through me like I was made for them. Their voices promising more tests.

I pressed my thighs together and hated the moan that crawled out of me.

A rogue wants me to smuggle him into the palace, else, he'll get my mother. The prince won't let me leave. The princess would make the palace a living hell…

“I can’t do this,” I whispered to the dark. “I have to get out.”

Three knocks. Hard. Final.

The door opened.

Female guard, face carved from stone. “Miss Seraphina. His Majesty summons you to the throne room. Now.”

I stared at her.

Fuck my entire life.