The sensation of ants crawling on his skin ripped Jonathan from the best sleep he’d had in ages. Dougal strolled through the room, headed for Lire.

“Stay the fook out of my dreams.”

Jonathan opened his mouth, intent on announcing his presence. No sound emerged. He tried again. Nothing happened. It took him a second to realize the sensation that had awoken him was Lire hiding his presence. This time, he’d also stolen Jonathan’s voice. His muscles weakened as if sleep tried pulling him under. Jonathan fought it. Dougal wore nothing except a ragged-looking kilt. If Jonathan had thought the man was beautiful clothed, it was nothing compared to the man half nude.

Without missing a step, Dougal crossed the lines of Lire’s demon trap. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want you in my head.”

Are you determined to fight me and stay awake, Jonathan? Very well. I can’t dampen my nature to spare you.

Jonathan shook his head, trying to dispel Lire’s voice from his mind.

“I’m starving,” Lire said, sounding turned on and making Jonathan’s stomach cramp with want.

Dougal snagged the front of Lire’s shirt and pulled the demon to his feet. “Get out of my head.”

“It’s not all me,” Lire said as he raked his fingernails slowly down Dougal’s back. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

A sound Jonathan had never heard before escaped Dougal. It was pain and lust. A tortured man on the edge of orgasm with no hope of relief.

“Give me what I need, Blondy. You swore you wouldn’t let me starve.”

Jonathan couldn’t look away from the scene taking place across the room. He should close his eyes. Knowing it didn’t make Jonathan turn his head. Niall was right about Jonathan’s perversions. He couldn’t look away.

“Goddamn you,” Dougal swore, snagging the back of Lire’s head.

“God doesn’t look my way,” Lire said, capturing Dougal’s mouth.

The air thickened. Jonathan tried catching his breath. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as hot as the way the muscles in Dougal’s back rolled as Lire’s fingers dug in, leaving indentions. Lire sat, bringing Dougal with him. Dougal straddled the man’s hips.

“Damn, Blondy. You’re not wearing anything underneath this.” His hands slid beneath Dougal’s kilt as he made the claim. “You’re too used to being in charge,” Lire said, nipping at Dougal’s collarbone. Dougal’s head fell back. His panting breaths filled the air as he gave Lire more access to his throat. “Has anyone ever been inside you, sexy? Or are you always the one feeling that heat tightening on your cock?”

“No one controls me,” Dougal said, obviously trying to hang on to some form of reality.

“I do,” Lire growled, taking the last threads away from Dougal. “I’m about to push my way inside you. It’ll hurt, but you’ll let me anyway, because you want it. You want me. You want what I can do for you.”

As Lire made his claims, his hands moved beneath Dougal’s kilt. Jonathan couldn’t see what the demon was doing, but he could guess. His hands balled into fists as he fought not to stroke his cock. Whatever spell Lire weaved around Dougal, Jonathan wasn’t immune.

Now’s the time, Jonathan. Sleep and bring your men to their knees.

At Lire’s claim, the world slipped away.

* * *

He felt Jonathan the instant the man slipped inside his dreams. Niall had been determined to stay away tonight and let the man have time alone with Cin. Now Jonathan was here. Niall couldn’t draw a full breath. The room shimmered, becoming his shop. A breeze touched his shins. Niall dropped his gaze. He was wearing a kilt. It was the one belonging to his family too, as if Jonathan had seen it somewhere before.

A low chuckle escaped him. “I haven’t worn a kilt in years.”

Jonathan appeared. His hot gaze raked Niall’s body. “I had a sudden burning desire to see you in one.”

Niall’s mouth went dry. Jonathan had never looked at him before the way he did now, even after feeding. This was more. Niall wondered if he should run for his life. “You have a great imagination,” Niall said, hoping to temper his desire. “This is the exact kilt my family wore.”

“It’s time to be quiet, Niall,” Jonathan said, cutting him off. Niall snapped his teeth together. He’d definitely never seen this side of Jonathan, but he liked it. That didn’t mean he intended to be quiet.

“You’ve never visited my dreams. It’s always the other way around.”

Jonathan’s mouth covered his, stopping Niall from saying another word. His hand snaked up Niall’s kilt, encircling Niall’s dick. The man did a damn good job of stealing Niall’s voice. Jonathan was in control. This wouldn’t be their usual visit. Normally, they talked, kissed, and spent time together. As close as they’d come to sexual contact, they’d never crossed any real lines. Niall wasn’t sure they could go back if they did.

He tore his mouth away. “Jonathan.”

“No more talking,” Jonathan spat as he fell to his knees. Niall reached for the man’s arms, intent on pulling him back to his feet. Jonathan’s hot mouth surrounded his cock, stealing Niall’s ability to do anything at all. The sensitive nerve ending in his crown scraped the roof of Jonathan’s mouth. The man’s tongue lapped at every inch. Niall’s fingers found Jonathan’s soft hair and hung on.

It might’ve been his dream, but Niall knew he was no longer in charge. He wasn’t sure how Jonathan controlled dreams or took control of certain aspects of people’s minds, but there was no denying he belonged to Jonathan at the moment. Who was he kidding? Jonathan always owned him. The hot suction on his dick had Niall ready to tear his skin off. He needed his mate to make him come like he needed oxygen. Niall felt like he’d been dying for it for forever. Maybe it was all happening in his head, but Niall still wanted this his way. Using his unnatural strength against Jonathan, he swept his mate off his knees. After swiping everything off his worktable with his forearm, Niall set Jonathan on top. He tore at the man’s clothes. He wasn’t gentle. Niall didn’t take it easy on him. The instant he had Jonathan unclothed enough to impale the man with his dick, he was inside his mate.

Jonathan scratched at his skin and pulled his hair. He writhed against Niall like he felt the same insanity Niall did—the same need to become one. Even once inside, Niall’s inner rage didn’t ease. This wasn’t making love. It wasn’t mating. Hell, Niall wasn’t even sure it was sex. This was a branding. He wanted his mate’s blood, sweat, and screams. His teeth tore into Jonathan’s chest. Blood filled his mouth and ran down his chin. The copper scent was so strong, Niall swore it was really happening. The hot squeezing of his cock felt every bit as real. The fire in his gut exploded into waves of ecstasy, stealing everything from Niall—his cum. A scream. His soul.

Warm jets of semen filled his underwear, pulling him from the dream of Jonathan. A gasp tore from his throat as his eyes shot open. He blinked at the sight of his bedroom. The blank walls matched the emptiness of waking up to find Jonathan missing.

Niall glanced down at his soaked underwear. “Fook.” The growled word echoed in the empty room, reminding Niall how alone he was in the world. Throwing his arm over his eyes, Niall shut out his surroundings and concentrated on breathing. This wouldn’t kill him. His throat tightened. Pain sliced through him. His arms had never felt emptier. Then again, maybe this would kill him after all.

* * *

Jonathan didn’t come to bed at dawn as promised. Cin tried to stop his rage from growing. Two hours past time for bed, Cin snapped. The sexy man who’d stolen Cin’s heart had no fucking clue how hard Cin had to fight to keep his alpha side from demanding Jonathan give him everything. After searching the house, he headed for the garage. With every step, he prayed he wouldn’t find Jonathan still hanging out with the demon spawn.

Before he could temper his reaction, Cin threw the door open with enough force it bounced off the wall and almost closed again.

The demon eyed him, looking bored by the show of rage. His gaze swept the room. Jonathan was asleep on a cot in the corner. It took every ounce of his willpower not to kill the spawn right then. It didn’t matter the creature had nothing to do with Jonathan choosing the garage over the bed he shared with Cin. Someone should feel his wrath.

“Why the fook is he with you?” Cin asked before he could call the question back.

The demon snorted. It was an ugly sound. “You really don’t want my opinion on that.”

Cin knelt beside the cot and inspected Jonathan’s sleeping form. He didn’t think the demon could do Jonathan harm from his trap, but he wouldn’t take any chances with his heart. “You’re right. I don’t,” Cin said absently. Jonathan looked like an angel when he slept. His long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. Cin had to stop himself from brushing his fingertip over them. Before Jonathan, he’d never loved a single soul beyond his clansmen. Everything was falling apart, and he was trying his ass off to hang on. He would die without this man. Cin couldn’t understand why Jonathan didn’t see him fading away.

When he couldn’t stand it another second, Cin traced the curve of Jonathan’s cheek. The man didn’t stir.

“He’s exhausted,” the demon said, surprising Cin with the affection in his voice. As far as he knew, demons felt nothing.

“I know. He’s still adjusting to the turn.” Cin had no idea why he confessed as much.

The demon scoffed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Cin didn’t bother arguing. Demons could smell lies like vampires smelled blood. Instead, he scooped Jonathan from the cot like he was a child. The man still didn’t stir. Without a backward glance, Cin headed for bed. He wasn’t sleeping without Jonathan at his side. After getting Jonathan tucked into bed, Cin stripped out of his clothes. A low knock landed on the door. Cin didn’t bother covering up. He was too old for modesty, and there was no part of him that his clan hadn’t seen. He found Niall standing on the other side of the door. The giant vamp looked like hell. He had dark circles under his eyes and his beard was getting out of control. A wave of loneliness overcame Cin. It took him a moment to realize the sensation came from Niall. His gaze skirted in every direction as if he couldn’t meet Cin’s stare.

“Is your offer to sleep here still open?”

Cin stepped aside in way of answer. Niall shuffled into the room as if still unsure of his welcome. He eyed Jonathan’s sleeping form.

“I found him on a cot in the garage a few minutes ago. He’s pretty out of it.”

Niall finally met his gaze at the confession. His brow furrowed, showing his confusion. “Is he okay?”

Cin shrugged and moved to scoot Jonathan to the center of the bed. He climbed into his usual spot, leaving room for Niall to claim Jonathan’s other side. The moment he was settled with Jonathan’s heat resting against him and his prince’s strength filling the room, Cin heard himself admitting his worst fears.

“I think we’re all slowly dying without each other, and I’m out of ideas on how to fix it. You can’t live without him. He can’t live without you, and I won’t survive without either of you. Please tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

The silence hanging between them stretched on for so long Cin didn’t think Niall would respond. “I’m the thief here. You gave away everything to stay and serve me, and now here we are.”

“Yeah, well, don’t forget your father locked me away. I’d rather serve a prince who loves me than a king who uses me.”

Niall’s hand found Cin’s beneath the covers. “I do love you.”

“Then trust me,” Cin said, refusing to hold back.

“I do.”

“Then be the badass warrior prince I left everything behind for, because I need you. Jonathan needs you. Someone has to be the one holding us together, and we’re weaker apart.”

“I’m trying.”

Cin couldn’t let up. “Try harder.”

This time, Niall didn’t bother responding. It didn’t matter. With the man’s steady presence, clicking them together like a finished puzzle, Cin felt the weight on his shoulders slipping away.