I feel something. Right here,” Lire said, fingering the invisible wall surrounding their bed. It felt like he’d poked his finger through tightly stretched plastic wrap. “I think I have it. The air feels different.” They all concentrated on the same spot. The room spun. All the air squeezed from Lire’s lungs. Reality shifted. Lire found himself landing with a hard thump on Jonathan’s bedroom floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Faolan, Dougal, and Lire scrambled to disentangle themselves and come to their feet. He caught a quick glimpse of Jonathan’s outrage.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

As quickly as it happened, it was over. Lire panted from exertion as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom with Faolan and Dougal at his side. They were back in their bed.

“Didn’t expect Cin and Niall to be home early,” Dougal said, pointing out what they were all thinking.

“Aye.”

“Yep,” Lire said, feeling like an ass.

“Holy shit, though,” Faolan said, bringing up the other elephant in the room.

“Yep.”

“Aye.”

Lire cleared his throat. “Jonathan is…”

“Aye.”

“Aye,” his men agreed.

They kept their gazes locked on the ceiling. Lire cleared his throat. “I want to try that.”

“Aye.”

“Yep.”

They exchanged glances. Lire’s smile grew along with Faolan’s and Dougal’s. As one, they scrambled to strip. Now that he knew Jonathan would be fine, Lire couldn’t get undressed fast enough. The instant he was nude, Lire snagged the backs of Dougal’s and Faolan’s heads, pulling them in for a kiss. When their tongues entwined, his heart squeezed in his chest. Time stood still as the beauty of the moment washed over him. This would be their first time. He wished he could think of something powerful to say, letting these amazing men know how their love humbled him.

Faolan ended up being the one with the words. “I’ve lived a verra long time and loving both of you has been my life’s best part.”

“Same,” Lire whispered as Dougal gasped, “Aye.”

Dougal’s gasp had more to do with Lire’s handling his cock than anything else. He loved making Blondie breathless and Ginger moan. Each man made a different sound that melted Lire.

Faolan dropped his mouth to Lire’s shoulder and kissed. He spoke against Lire’s skin. “You’ve been inside me. I think it’s only fair I get to be inside you.” As he made the claim, he urged Lire onto his side. The air caught in Lire’s lungs. He wanted everything. Faolan molded against his back, probing at his asshole. Pants left Lire’s lips. His gaze wouldn’t move from Dougal. Dougal watched everything as if he couldn’t get enough of seeing his men together.

Lire couldn’t take not having them both. It had been too long since he’d used his body to please Dougal. “I need to be inside you,” he growled as Faolan pressed his way past the tight ring of muscles surrounding Lire’s asshole.

Dougal wasted no time throwing his leg over Lire’s and Faolan’s hips, giving Lire access to his body. It felt like it had been forever since they’d spent their nights in a tangle of sweat, hair, and kisses. This was the first time he could make love to Dougal without ruining the man’s mind. The moment was humbling and hot. He licked his fingers and stretched Dougal’s asshole as he fought to hang on to his sanity with Faolan pumping inside him at the perfect angle. Lire had lived a long time. Being a sex demon meant there was nothing he hadn’t done a million times. This was the first time a threesome completely wrecked his heart. He knew, as long as he lived, he’d never forget this first time of making love to his mates with his body or the sound Dougal made as Lire pushed his way inside. They moved slowly, keeping time with one another. Inside, Lire was crazed. He refused to show his madness. His mates deserved to have him make love to them—slowly savoring each second.

With his forehead pressed to Dougal’s, they strained toward release. Faolan’s emotions were drowning Lire. He was every bit as overwhelmed as Lire. They’d been given so much. Lire had never had more to lose. His body was ablaze with need. He stroked Dougal’s cock, completely convinced that if the man came, the pleasure would be his. Dougal’s breathing increased. His muscles tightened. They were right there, together. Lire’s balls drew up tight.

Faolan’s fingers dug into Lire’s skin. “Goddamn, gorgeous. You fook with my head. You’re so hot on my dick.”

Lire’s stomach muscles clenched. Faolan’s words had him on edge. Then, Dougal’s cum hit him in the chest as the man’s orgasm slammed into Lire’s mind. Being connected in body and mind was explosive. A cry tore from Lire’s lips. Faolan slammed home, hitting at the perfect angle, stealing Lire’s orgasm. Faolan cried out. His fangs brushed Lire’s neck, as if he barely fought the urge to tear into Lire’s skin, despite his acidic blood. Lire melted, turning to smoke and becoming one with Faolan, even though he didn’t have to anymore. He needed Faolan fangs in Dougal’s neck, so he could savor the blood exchange. His mates could never drink directly from him or vice versa, but it didn’t matter. He could have this and so much more. Dougal’s blood filled Faolan’s mouth. The coppery tang danced on Lire’s taste buds. Love filled him until he thought he’d explode. With his needs met, Lire separated from Faolan and fell into a tangle of sweaty arms and legs. He snuggled closer, uncaring of the mess they’d made. It was real, raw, and all them. He owned the world.

Guilt wasn’t a word that lived in his vocabulary, but as Lire snuggled with Dougal and Faolan, he felt the first kernel. He’d pushed his way inside Baptiste’s mind, seeing more than he intended. What he’d done was cruel, especially in light of Baptiste’s kindness. The man had given Lire this moment, and countless more to come. Jonathan was right. Lire didn’t fully comprehend what it had cost the man. He hoped he never learned. Losing his mates wasn’t a fate he could fathom. He couldn’t imagine the man’s hopelessness. All he knew was—somehow—he’d find a way to repay Baptiste one day.

* * *

Eirik spent a minute enjoying watching Baptiste sleep after he carried him to bed. It had been so damn long. He wished he could stay there forever, but he had business to attend to. “Don’t worry, my little mouse. Everything will be right again.” He slipped from the bed and lit a fire in the fireplace before clothes appeared on his body.

A howl sounded in the distance. Eirik headed out. The minute he stepped outside, a giant silver wolf appeared. In an instant, he transformed into a large, nude male with silver hair. No lines marred his face, making his hair color look unnatural. Bleidd Gunnolf was every bit as old as Eirik. They’d grown up together back when the world was new. He trusted Bleidd’s pack above all others to keep his mate safe.

“I won’t be long.”

Bleidd nodded. “Don’t worry about Baptiste. We’ll watch over him.”

“You have all my faith. Still, this shouldn’t take long.” With that promise hanging in the air, Eirik shifted through space, appearing in Jonathan’s living room. He wouldn’t wait for an invite. Jonathan sat curled in a huge leather chair in the laps of his mates. A blanket covered them. His blond mate slept while his dark mate toyed with Jonathan’s hair. Jonathan glanced up from the book he was reading. He looked more human today than Eirik had ever seen him before. His wings were gone, and his eyes were green rather than the usual gold.

As Eirik’s form solidified, a loud siren rent the air. Jonathan snapped his fingers, and the alarm fell silent. Cin came awake with a start, but Jonathan soothed him by rubbing his chest. Niall never paused in toying with Jonathan’s hair.

Dougal, Faolan, and Lire appeared, nude but armed to the teeth. Jonathan sighed when he saw them. “Jesus, it’s like no one listens to me.”

Despite having closed his eyes again, Cin grumbled, “Everything is fine. Get back to bed.”

The men’s shoulders fell—like they’d been robbed of a good battle. The ginger of the bunch spoke up. “I see how it is. When we’re clothed, we get snapped back to bed. Naked, we have to make the walk of shame.”

Jonathan flashed the men an adorable smile. “Maybe I enjoy watching your sexy nude asses leave.”

At his claim, all three men slowed in their departure and a visible hip sway entered their walk. Jonathan chuckled as the three disappeared. He waited until they were gone before focusing on Eirik once more. “I keep telling them to stay in bed, but they keep disobeying me today.”

Eirik bit back a smile. “Well, they are your guards.”

“I don’t need protection today,” Jonathan said. His unconcerned air might’ve chafed if he’d meant the man harm. It was obvious Jonathan didn’t fear him.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Jonathan nodded and reopened the book he’d dropped to soothe Cin. “You know the way.”

Eirik dipped his chin and headed down the hall. Jonathan was a puzzle he couldn’t decipher. Not only was it obvious Jonathan knew who he really was, he also seemed to have known Eirik would come for Kallus. Outside the room where Kallus was held, Eirik didn’t hesitate. He threw open the door with enough force it bounced from the wall. Kallus sat slumped in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest. At Eirik’s arrival, he straightened. His hungry gaze ate up the sight of Eirik as if he saw past the Ethan image to the god housed beneath.

Without wasting time, Eirik clapped. The thunderous sound it created destroyed the wards inside the room, freeing Kallus. “Let’s go.” He didn’t wait to see if his mate obeyed. Eirik knew he would. Retracing his steps, he found Jonathan where he’d left him.

Jonathan didn’t look up from his book. “Once you’ve gotten everything settled, I expect a solid explanation.” He finally glanced up from his book. His face and voice hardened, becoming the leader Celeste had chosen him to be. “Or don’t return here. I’ve had my throat slit, my heart almost ripped out, and my mate kidnapped. We spent months sweeping up the bodies. All because of your issues. So you will explain or you won’t come back. Understood? We can help, or you can stay away.”

Eirik dipped his chin. It was a fair trade, considering all Jonathan had sacrificed. For now, he needed to return to Baptiste. Thankfully, Baptiste slept on. Eirik’s earlier order to remember held him in its grip. After peeking at his dreams, ensuring they were of happy times, Eirik moved to the settee, where he could keep an eye on him. Kallus followed him, holding his silence. Eirik couldn’t bring himself to look the man’s way. The only safe place to look was at Baptiste’s sleeping form. Even as Kallus settled in beside him, Eirik couldn’t turn his head and meet his mate’s gaze.

“How long do you plan on not talking to me?”

Eirik watched Baptiste’s chest rise and fall with each breath while he thought about the question. It wasn’t that he wasn’t on speaking terms with Kallus as much as he feared his voice. For three years, he’d been bound by Mammon’s presence, sticking close to Baptiste, keeping him safe but incapable of touching his mate as himself. He’d been forced to try to woo the man under the worst of circumstances, keeping his powers hidden so Mammon wouldn’t sense him. Then Jonathan had banished Mammon back to Hell, freeing Eirik. By then, he’d told too many lies. He’d held his silence while watching Baptiste suffer. His actions, while meant for Baptiste’s protection, were unforgivable. Chances were good Baptiste would wake—memories intact and hating Eirik. Being enraged with Kallus gave him an outlet for his fear. While Eirik had done the best he could with the choices available to him, Kallus had simply walked away. Were they equally guilty? Yes, but Eirik’s rage still knew no bounds.

“He’ll have questions when he wakes,” Eirik said rather than answering.

“Do you have answers?”

Eirik took a breath and chose not to respond.

“Like now, with me,” Kallus pushed. “Can you explain why I spent days being tortured for you, until Baptiste found me, yet you never once came to me after Celeste created a new form for you? Can you answer that one? Was I the lesser mate to you?”

Eirik’s eyes fell closed. He’d fallen in love, given himself a weak point, and created a target for Mammon. He didn’t regret falling in love with Baptiste and Kallus. Not only would he do it again in a minute, he fully intended to win back his mates. An overheated weight landed on him. His eyes flew open. Kallus straddled his hips and held his face between his hands, leaving him no choice but to look at him. The man’s beauty hit Eirik in the chest.

“Say it, Eirik. Tell me I never meant that much. Say you hate me for bringing evil into your life.”

Pain ripped through him. “I cannot.”

Kallus’ expression screamed how much Eirik was hurting him. “Then tell me why I mean so little.”

Eirik gripped the back of Kallus’ neck and hauled him forward, capturing his mate’s lips for the first time in over three years. Nothing had changed. He still loved these men with all that he was. He tore his mouth away but kept his forehead pressed to Kallus’ and a tight grip on the man’s neck. “I was ashamed,” he admitted with his eyes squeezed shut. “Everything is because of me. If I’d stayed away from the two of you, none of this would’ve happened. All of this is on me. How could I look at you after the pain I caused?”

“I feel the same,” Kallus said, taking him by surprise. “I’m a demon. If anyone should’ve known better, it’s me. I should’ve known loving you and Baptiste was power my father wouldn’t be able to resist. Now I’ve lost you, and Baptiste hates me more than anything I’ve ever witnessed.”

The backs of Eirik’s eyes stung. “You haven’t lost me, and Baptiste doesn’t hate you.”

Kallus’ eyes fell closed for a second. When they reopened, the other man’s pain was almost a physical thing. “He touched me and felt nothing. I’ve never seen that. All I felt was his anger.”

Despite the situation, a smile touched Eirik’s lips. “That was an evil move on his part. Celeste gave him the power to touch you without consequences,” Eirik explained when Kallus still looked broken. “Did she not tell you?”

Kallus blinked several times, as if trying to come to terms with what he was hearing. “I never saw her. After you… When I woke up, there was an angel tending to me. I was, understandably, confused to find myself in the Heavens. I asked several questions, but no one spoke to me or met my gaze. Once I was fully healed, I was set free.”

Eirik ran his fingers through Kallus’ hair. “He’s angry with you, but you’ll convince him to forgive you. You know Little Mouse never stays mad for long.” His gaze dropped to Kallus’ mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing his thumb along the man’s bottom lip. “If I didn’t already know hell existed, these past three years have shown me suffering only the damned endure. But I knew it could be worse and knowing I was the reason Mammon harmed you again was too much for me. I wonder if you’ll ever forgive me, or if I’ll ever forgive myself?”

Kallus visibly swallowed. “Kiss me again, and we’ll see.”

Moving slow, Eirik drew Kallus closer. His lips tingled with anticipation. He was so close to having his mates again. He could practically taste the triumph.

A loud gasp sounded from the bed. At the sound, they scrambled from the couch. Baptiste sat straight up—like a shock raced through his body. He gasped for air while blinking rapidly as if trying to bring the room in to focus. Before Eirik could reach his side, Baptiste was gone.

Eirik and Kallus stopped in their tracks, staring the empty spot where Baptiste had been. Kallus turned in a circle as if physically and mentally searching for Baptiste. “He’s gone to Jonathan.”

Eirik nodded. “Give him a minute. I removed the block Celeste and I created in his mind. Let him think straight. If he doesn’t come back, we’ll go after him.”

Their gazes met. A silent conversation passed between them. Despite Eirik’s earlier bravado, they knew the truth. Baptiste might not ever forgive them.

* * *

Niall’s fingers brushed through Jonathan’s hair. Jonathan couldn’t tear his gaze away from his mate’s amazing eyes. He loved his dark warrior. Times like these, when they could enjoy one another uninterrupted, felt few and far between. Cin’s hand slid up Jonathan’s inner thigh, snaking up the inside of his workout shorts. Jonathan intentionally hadn’t worn underwear underneath. Not only did underwear not give as much if he spontaneously went full Nephilim, he loved watching the moment Cin realized he was free to toy with Jonathan’s body. It seemed crazy they were incapable of getting enough of one another. He understood this was how mating worked. It was a bond that grew stronger with every passing day. Still, it seemed he should be sick of being constantly touched. Instead, he craved more.

The alarm sounded, startling Jonathan’s heart into his throat. Baptiste appeared feet away, wearing nothing more than a blanket. Their gazes met, and Baptiste collapsed—unconscious. Cin scrambled to his feet. Lire, Dougal, and Faolan skidded into the room, only half as armed as last time, as if expecting to get sent away again. Instead, Jonathan waved them closer.

“It’s Baptiste.” He skimmed the man’s mind. “Whoa. Eirik removed the barrier from his mind. He’s a fucked-up mess in there. Let’s find a room for him.”

Niall scooped the man from the floor and carried him down the hall. They followed, equally ready to circle like a group of meddling hens.

“I thought Eirik was dead,” Dougal said behind him, reminding Jonathan he hadn’t shared what he’d learned with anyone.

“You can’t kill Eirik. He is the first-born son of Heimdall,” Baptiste said, proving—while still mostly out of it—he was awake. “As a full-blooded Norse god, he was given the task of being the guardian of Heaven’s door. He is the key between the worlds. Like energy, he can’t be destroyed, only transformed.”

Niall settled Baptiste on a guest bed. Baptiste leaned his back against the headboard and tried catching his breath. Jonathan kept a close eye on his every heartbeat. He didn’t want the man falling out again. Everyone stared at the man, hanging on his every word.

Dougal didn’t let up. “I don’t understand. What about Evan? I thought they were twins.”

Baptiste shook his head. “When Eirik died, Celeste retrieved his soul and shaped him into the first guard she encountered, Evan. She made him swear not to reveal anything to me. They told me they were Prampires, explaining how they had no need for blood.”

“Prampires died out centuries ago,” Faolan said, pointing out what they were all thinking.

“Actually, that’s not true. They’re just very good at staying hidden. But it was a good cover story, so I wouldn’t realize Evan is a werewolf, and explaining how Ethan could leech away my pain from losing my mates.”

“Obviously, he wasn’t really doing that,” Jonathan pointed out.

Baptiste rubbed his chest. “Yeah. I just hurt less when Eirik held me, even with him blocking himself from me.”

Lire shook his head. “I’m a demon, and the depth of betrayal here…”

“Aye,” Faolan said, sounding every bit as horrified.

“I know.” Baptiste’s voice sounded heavy with pain. He scrubbed at his arm and massaged his hands. Jonathan couldn’t believe the man’s mates would do this—leave him in this state.

Eirik and Kallus appeared on either side of Baptiste, stealing Jonathan’s chance to say as much. “I’m—once again—retrieving what’s mine,” Eirik said, obviously intent on disappearing with Baptiste again. The alarm was going nuts, making everyone deaf and Jonathan’s nerves bad. Before Eirik could get away, Jonathan shot forward and grabbed hold of Eirik and Kallus, keeping them from going anywhere.

“That’s enough of that. It’s about time you stayed still. I’m not putting up with this popping in and out all night.”

“No offense, but this is none of your business,” Eirik said, enraging Lire.

“Look here, I don’t give a damn what kind of god you are. You’re not allowed to insult our king.” Everyone tried yelling over everyone else, making Jonathan’s head pound.

“Enough,” Niall roared, slamming his fist down on the footboard of the bed and cracking the wood. Everyone fell silent. He wasn’t finished. “I’ve been gone two weeks,” he said, holding up two fingers. “All I want is to curl up with my men and enjoy some peace. Is that too much to ask? This is our home,” Niall said, fixing Kallus, Baptiste, and Eirik with his dark gaze. “Do you get that? Just because you’re powerful enough to go anywhere you like, doesn’t mean you should without asking.”

“To be fair, I’m sort of getting dragged along here,” Kallus said, sounding petulant.

Baptiste growled. “By all means, feel free to run back to whatever and whoever you were doing before Lire scooped you up.”

“I picked him up outside your house, pacing and practicing his speech to win you back.”

“What?” Baptiste and Jonathan said simultaneously.

Lire nodded. “He was being quite loud. I don’t know how you couldn’t hear him.”

Jonathan massaged the spot between his eyes. “We brought him in for abandoning his mate, and you picked him up when he was about to go back?”

Lire shrugged. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted him.”

“What the fook has been going on while I was in Scotland?” Niall asked, bringing all eyes his way.

Jonathan twisted his fingers. “I was unsupervised too long.”

Niall stared at him expressionless.

Jonathan took a deep breath. He was so getting spanked later, and he couldn’t wait.

“I’m going to bed.”

Jonathan nodded. “Okay, I—”

“I expect you there in the next five minutes,” Niall said, cutting him off. He switched his gaze Lire’s way. “Take your men back to bed like Jonathan’s been telling you all goddamn day.” Lire nodded, and the three disappeared. Niall pinned the three men in the bed beneath his dark stare. “You can stay here or go home. I don’t care. But whatever you decide, the next time you visit, you’ll use the damn door like normal fooking people. We’ve never disrespected your home, and I expect the same. Jonathan is not your personal plaything. He’s mine. His time is mine. Everything under this roof is mine. I did not waltz into town and throw my power around, but so help me, I will make you sorry if you do not give my husband peace.”

Jonathan spent a lot of time turned on, but Niall’s anger had him hotter than he could remember being in a long time. He could barely breathe beneath the onslaught of desire.

“You lucky bastard,” Kallus muttered beside him, making Jonathan smile.

He patted Kallus’ chest. “Goodnight.” Without looking back, Jonathan followed Niall from the room—like an invisible chain tethered him. They knew what was going on and understood now what they were up against. The three men could work out the rest on their own. Jonathan had a punishment to endure. He fully intended to get right on that and beg for forgiveness, or more. Whatever.

* * *

He’d left for a reason. Now here Eirik and Kallus were, invading his space and making it impossible for him to think. Under his breath, Baptiste chanted a spell, making it impossible for Eirik to take him without his permission. The men disappeared before immediately reappearing when they realized Baptiste wasn’t with them.

Eirik’s face was thunderous with outrage. “I’m trying to make things right.”

“I left for a reason.” Baptiste words came out in a growl. He couldn’t hide his aggravation if he tried. There was no holding back his anger. “Three years. Three fucking years,” he said, ready to punch someone. Baptiste switched his gaze between the men, ensuring they recognized his fury was meant for them both. “Someone start talking. Explain why you would do this to me.”

“I didn’t want to give Mammon any reason to keep coming after you,” Kallus said, speaking up first.

“He did anyway,” Baptiste said, exploding despite his continued internal lectures to calm down. “And just as I did before, I walked away without a scratch. Do you have no faith in me, or was I just that easy to throw away once Eirik was gone?” Baptiste didn’t give him time to answer before turning his rage Eirik’s way. “And you, I don’t even know where to start. You were right there, watching me suffer. Why?”

“I’m the reason Kallus was tortured and the two of you were almost killed. The wolves were after Mammon on my order. I kept thinking the danger would pass any day and I wouldn’t have to fear putting you in danger any longer. It never crossed my mind it would take three years to be free of Mammon.”

“None of this is explaining anything,” Baptiste roared, surprising even himself by the explosiveness of his anger. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself. There’s twelve hundred years of my people’s magic living inside me, topped with the power of vampires. I’m not afraid. Every day, I relished the thought of Mammon returning, because I knew I could finish the fight. Why don’t you believe in me as I’ve always believed in both of you?”

Eirik stroked his face. “Little Mouse, you shouldn’t have to fight.”

It was the wrong move and the wrong words. Baptiste scrambled from the bed. He watched the men’s gazes turn hungry as they eyed his nude body. Baptiste hated that their expressions made his heart skip a beat. Anger was all he had right now. They’d left him. Maybe it had been in different ways, but they’d abandoned him to his pain and emptiness. With every thought, his fury grew until it couldn’t be contained.

“Why can’t you admit you think I’m weak?” Baptiste slammed his hand down, further cracking the wooden footboard. “Did you switch your guard duty between Kallus and me, or did you leave him unguarded?”

Neither man spoke, but they visibly fought not to look at each other. He didn’t need them to answer. Baptiste knew there was no way Eirik had spent every day with him and guarded Kallus.

Even to Baptiste’s ears, he sounded tired when he spoke again. “I would’ve gladly died for either of you, but I can live without you. These past three years have definitely taught me that. It’s beyond obvious neither of you needs me, so you can just keep it that way.”

Baptiste moved through space, landing in his living room. He chanted under his breath, locking his house down with ancient Druid spells. His feet moved quickly from room to room. Baptiste didn’t think it likely they’d give him much of a head start. By the time he finished, there was no chance anyone other than himself could enter the home. He couldn’t trust anyone any longer. Baptiste was finally alone. The pain was swift, nearly doubling him over. There was no Ethan to leech it away. He should’ve known something wasn’t right about the twins. Evan’s presence never soothed Baptiste.

Baptiste rubbed his arms. His skin felt chilled—like he’d never be warm again. The lack of clothes didn’t help. With no real plan, Baptiste headed for the bathroom. After flipping the stopper closed, he turned the water in the Jacuzzi tub to as hot as it would go. Steam rose with the water. He should’ve been scalded as he stepped in, but Baptiste felt nothing beyond his internal pain. Kallus and Eirik had each other. He had no one. It was hard to say who angered him most. Baptiste leaned back, letting the water engulf him. Kallus had abandoned him, but at least he’d openly walked away. Eirik had hidden, equally yet just as willfully stealing his love and affection. He’d broken Baptiste down, making him believe he was moving on with another man. There were so many lies. So much deception. Baptiste didn’t know how to move past this. What if he never could? If there was a place lower than having no hope, Baptiste was there.