Page 98 of Fallen Nocturne

He takes another step, and I retreat without thinking. The backs of my knees strike the edge of the bed.

I snatch a pillow and throw it into his face. The instant it strikes, I dart past him and make for the door.

The darkness pooled across the floor surges upward. It coils around my wrists like cool silk rope and binds them together. When I tug against the shadows, they tighten just enough to show me that struggling is pointless before easing again.

“You can end this whenever you choose,” he says. “Return the rings and the shadows will release you.”

I test the bonds around my wrists once more. “No. I won’t give them back.”

The wingless one laughs softly. “Then we have a problem.”

He cups my face in both hands and tilts my chin upward. His thumbs sweep across my cheekbones while his masked face fills my vision. Those dark, burning eyes are only inches from mine. Then he kisses me.

The kiss is completely feral, different from the ones the masked man has given me before. He claims me with a hunger so raw it steals the air from my lungs. His teeth catch my lower lip and I gasp. He uses the opening to taste me deeper. A whimper escapes me and he swallows it whole.

Behind me, the winged one’s hands settle on my hips.

My heart slams against my ribs. Two sets of hands. Two bodies bracketing mine. The wingless one kissing me senseless while the winged one’s fingers trace the curve of my waist, my hips, the hem of my dress. They move like one creature split in two and the sensation of being held between them is so overwhelming that my knees buckle.

The wingless one catches me and steadies me against his chest. His mouth drops to my jaw. He traces a burning path down the column of my throat. His lips find the hollow beneath my ear, then lower, following the line of my collarbone.

I try to wrench free. My fist swings toward the wingless one’s jaw but the shadow vines are faster. Dark tendrils lash around my wrists and yank them behind my back, knotting tight before I can twist loose. More vines curl around my legs and thighs. I kick and the bindings absorb it without giving an inch.

The winged one wraps his arms around me from behind, lifting me off my feet. My back presses against the hard planes of his chest and the leathery brush of folded wings. He carries me to the bed.

The moment he lets go, I drop. My knees slam into the mattress and I tip forward, but the vines jerk me upright before I hit the sheets. They hold me there, kneeling, suspended, arms pinned behind my back, chest heaving.

The wingless one watches from the other side of the bed with a lazy, predatory smile. Behind me, the winged one presses his knee between mine and forces them apart. I clench my thighs together. The vines pry them apart. They follow his lead, coiling around each thigh and pulling until I am spread wide and trembling on the bed with nowhere to hide.

“Scared?” the winged one murmurs against my shoulder.

Yes. Gods, yes, I’m scared.

There are two of him and my hands are bound and I can’t think. I hate that my body is responding to both of them. It terrifies me.

“No,” I lie.

A low laugh vibrates against my skin. “Brave little fawn,” the winged one murmurs. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

The wingless one crawls across the mattress and hauls me higher on my knees until he is level with me. He pulls the neckline of my nightdress aside. His mouth closes over my breast and I gasp.

“Wait," I breathe. "Wait, I can’t—”

His teeth graze my nipple. The sound that rips from me is closer to a sob than a moan. My knees nearly fail again.

Behind me, the winged one gathers my nightgown, pulling it up slowly, his knuckles dragging against the backs of my thighs.

“The rings, Rhianelle.”

“No.”

His hand slides between my legs and I cry out. He finds me already wet.

Of course I am.

The kissing, the chase, the fear and want tangled so tightly together I can’t separate them. His fingers stroke through me and the wingless one swallows my moan with another kiss.

This is a punishment.