Chapter 12: No More Restraint

I read the same sentence five times before admitting that Faolan's stare had become more distracting than Father's lies. I kept my gaze fixed upon the diary before I spoke. "You cannot even pretend to hide your excitement, Faolan."

His mouth curved. "You always knew what I wanted, little tyrant."

"You were never subtle."

"I never needed to be with you."

I turned another page. "Wanting something does not mean you will receive it."

"No." His amber eyes lowered toward my nightdress. "But you haven't ordered us to leave."

Heat entered through the bond. Faolan made no attempt to approach the bed. He remained in the chair with his legs stretched before him, watching me as though patience were another weapon he had learned to use during my absence.

The bath chamber door opened. Asterion emerged wearing nothing but black trousers. Water still clung to his shoulders and traveled over the hard planes of his chest. His dark hair was wet, falling across the cold blue eyes that immediately found me.

Then, he noticed the diary. His expression tightened. "You are still reading that?"

"I am searching for information about the portal."

"Raiden has taken enough of your attention tonight."

"He may have recorded how to enter the Celestial Realm."

"Then, the answer will still be there tomorrow."

Asterion looked toward Faolan. Their eyes met for one heartbeat. No words passed between them, yet Faolan immediately rose and collected his clean trousers from the wardrobe.

Another silent agreement.

I was beginning to hate how often they held conversations without including me. "What did the two of you decide?"

Faolan walked toward the bath chamber. "That Asterion should prevent your dead father from ruining the rest of our night."

"And what will you be doing?"

His smile sharpened. "Making certain I am clean when I return." He disappeared into the bath chamber and closed the door.

Asterion approached the bed. I expected him to take the diary. Instead, he lifted the blankets and slid beside me. One arm curved around my waist, drawing me against his bare chest. He took my free arm and placed it over his shoulders before lowering his head against me.

His face rested near the upper curve of my chest. Wet hair brushed my shoulder.

I arched an eyebrow. "You were never this affectionate."

"I was."

"No, you weren't."

Asterion closed his eyes. "I restrained myself."

"You are an Alpha now. Aren't Alphas supposed to possess restraint?"

"I spent five years restraining myself beside your grave." His arm tightened around my waist. "I have no reason to continue."

The cold bond between us carried no embarrassment. Only a deep, possessive contentment at being allowed to rest against me.

Asterion took my hand from the diary and placed my fingers in his wet hair. "You used to comb my hair whenever I rested against you, my moon." His usual cold voice carried a note so close to sulking that I nearly laughed. "Where is it?"

I stared down at him. "You are becoming extremely demanding."

"You kept me waiting for five years."

"That does not entitle you to anything."

His blue eyes opened. "No. But I am asking."

That answer left me with nothing to fight.

I sighed and began running my fingers through his hair. "You are annoying."

"That title belongs to Faolan."

"You are competing for it."

Asterion settled more heavily against me. Each stroke of my fingers softened something inside the bond until the cold became quiet rather than distant.

An old memory rose before I could bury it: Asterion returning from a winter patrol with snow caught in his hair, then sitting silently at my feet until I noticed him. Some nights, I had combed my fingers through the dark strands until his head grew heavy against my knee. On others, I had stopped after a single stroke simply because the disappointment in his eyes reminded me that I controlled what comfort he received.

The boy he had been would never have complained.

The man beneath my hand caught my wrist when I tried to pull away and pressed one quiet kiss to my palm.

"You should have asked more often," I murmured.

His eyes opened. "You should have made it safer to ask." The truth struck cleanly enough that I could not resent him for it. "I am asking now," he added.

"And demanding."

"Both can be true."

I attempted to resume reading with my other hand, but the words refused to remain inside my thoughts.

Asterion's breath warmed the skin above my nightdress. His fingers moved slowly against my waist. He did not ask for anything else, but the desire he restrained traveled through every point of contact.

"You are distracting me."

"Good."

"I thought Faolan was the insolent one."

"He is becoming a poor influence."

The bath chamber door opened before I could answer. Faolan emerged wearing black trousers and no shirt. Damp dark hair curled around his face. His gaze immediately settled upon Asterion resting against me while my fingers moved through his hair.

He stopped beside the bed. "You started without me."

"He demanded it," I said.

Asterion did not open his eyes. "She complied."

"Then, move. It's my turn."

"Find your own place."

Faolan looked at the empty space on my other side. "Gladly." He climbed beneath the blankets and settled facing me. One hand found mine above the diary and brought my knuckles to his mouth. His kiss lingered. "Do I receive nothing?" he asked.

"You received dinner," I replied with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

"Asterion received dinner and your hand in his hair."

"He was quiet."

"I can be quiet."

Asterion opened one eye. "No, you cannot."

Faolan ignored him and lowered his head until the damp ends of his hair brushed my arm. The hopeful lift of his brows was shameless. He had worn the same expression as a boy whenever he wanted praise, though he had once been careful to conceal it before I could use his wanting against him.

I slid my fingers into his hair as well. His eyelids lowered at once. "Greedy," I muttered.

"Starved," he corrected.

Two Alphas who commanded an entire pack lay content beneath my hands. Their wolves filled the bonds with rumbling satisfaction, and mine answered before pride could silence her. Somewhere inside these dangerous men, my puppies still existed.

But they no longer belonged to me unless they chose to.

I was surrounded again.

Asterion's body warmed my left side. Faolan's heat waited on my right. Both bonds remained open, carrying enough hunger to make my wolf restless.

Yet neither man moved beyond the affection I had already permitted.

They waited, and their patience became unbearable.

"Why are you both staring at me?"

"Waiting," Faolan answered.

"For what?"

Asterion lifted his head from my shoulder. "You."

The diary suddenly felt heavier than it had before. Father's handwriting covered the open page. Another command from a dead man. Another explanation for how my life had been arranged before I understood enough to resist.

One passage mentioned Lunaria's silver gates as though reaching the celestial realm required nothing more than deciding to go. It offered no instructions. The next page returned to weapons, armies, and the wars Father expected me to win. A dead man continued demanding battle while two living men waited for me to choose them.

For years, I had given Raiden every part of me he demanded. I would not give him this night too.

I closed the diary. Both bonds surged.

Asterion took the book from my hands and placed it on the bedside table without opening it while Faolan watched me. "Be certain, little tyrant."

"You have spent days refusing to leave me alone, and now you discover hesitation?"

"Wanting you is easy," he said. "Taking what you haven't chosen is not."

Asterion's gaze remained fixed upon mine. "Say the word and we leave."

I looked between them.

These were not the boys who waited for my permission because disobedience earned pain. They were not the Alphas who held me down in the arena because terror had convinced them possession was the only way to keep me.

Tonight, both men could have overwhelmed me. Instead, they placed the decision in my hands.

"Faolan."

"Yes?"

"Lock the door."

His amber eyes darkened. He left the bed, turned the key, and returned without taking his gaze from me.

"Ask me whether I am certain again," I warned, "and I will make both of you sleep outside."

Faolan smiled. "There she is."

I caught the back of his neck and pulled him down. His mouth met mine with heat he had restrained since returning from the bath. Even then, he let me control the first kiss. He waited until I opened the bond fully and drew him closer before his hand settled against my cheek.

I felt Asterion watching us, his desire cold and sharp beneath the bond, but he did not intrude. I loosened my hold on Faolan and turned my head. "Asterion."

His gaze locked upon mine. "My moon?"

"Kiss me."

He obeyed.

Faolan moved aside only enough to give him room, his mouth finding my wrist instead. They did not compete to seize control of me. They moved with the same instinctive coordination that had defeated me in the forest—one reading every shift of my body while the other guarded what I could not see.

Only now, I did not feel trapped between them. I felt protected.

Asterion's lips touched my shoulder. The nightdress shifted beneath his fingers, but he stopped when the fabric reached the edge of what I had allowed.

I broke from Faolan long enough to look at him. "You said you had no reason to restrain yourself."

"I have every reason until you tell me otherwise."

I took his hand and placed it against my waist beneath the loosened fabric. "Otherwise."

Something inside Asterion broke. His mouth found mine while Faolan kissed the side of my neck. Their touches remained different even when the bonds made their desire impossible to separate. 

Faolan burned. It was open, hungry, and unashamed. Asterion moved like winter finally surrendering to spring, controlled until each response from me destroyed another piece of restraint.

I touched the marks I had left upon them years ago. They remained beneath their skin, faded but unmistakable.

Once, I had bitten them to prove they belonged to me. Tonight, I kissed those scars because they had survived me.

Asterion's fingers found the pale scar beneath my ribs. The question in his bond arrived before the words could.

"Do not ask," I said.

"I won't." He bent and kissed it instead.

Faolan traced another scar near my shoulder—one neither of them had been there to prevent—and did the same. They did not demand the names of the men who had hurt me or make promises of revenge I had not requested. They simply acknowledged every piece of me that had survived beyond their reach.

Faolan shuddered when my lips touched his mark. Asterion's eyes closed when I did the same to him.

"Mine," my wolf whispered through the bonds.

Both wolves answered, not with submission, but with recognition.

The rest of the night unfolded without commands carved from fear. Whenever one of them touched me, they waited for my answer. Whenever I pulled them closer, five years of grief gave way to something warmer.

The nightdress disappeared somewhere among the blankets.

So did the distance we had carried since the war.