Sanctuary With Kings (Tempting Monsters, #3)

by Kathryn Moon

"Asterion is more than capable of avoiding me on his own," I pointed out, turning to shoot another glare up at the window, even though there was no longer any sign of the minotaur. I hoped he was there in the shadows, listening. "Only because he thinks there would be no place for him at your side," Conall said.

I raised a hand, and Conall's mouth snapped shut. "Place at my side? It's…it's just sex, Conall! And you're still speaking about me as if…as if these are maneuvers you all decide on, not decisions I make." Conall's head tipped, and my hands clenched to fists. "What?" I snapped. Conall sighed and stepped closer, pausing as I stiffened. "You're right, of course, but—" "But?" He cleared his throat, glanced up at the castle and then back at me, brow furrowing slightly. "You are absolutely welcome to offer your attention, affection, to any of us, mo chroí. To all of us. Whatever suits you, of course. But we are also not…simply devices for your relief." I inhaled sharply and Conall winced, raising his hands at his side.

"Evanthia?" Conall reached for me. I tightened my arms, shrinking away just enough to give him pause. "Do you avoid bedding me…spending the night with me, because—" "No," Conall said, cutting me off, ignoring my tense frame and rushing forward, drawing me into his arms. He huffed out a breath, tucking his chin over my shoulder. "No. You are not the only one with nightmares, mo chroí," he whispered. "I become violent. I didn't want to hurt you."

"Have I been…pushing too much?" I asked. "No," Conall moaned, drawing me tighter into his chest. He let out a soft, grumbling growl and his hands stroked up and down my back. "Damn the stubborn bull. I'm sorry, Evie. I've been an ass." He's young, I thought, recalling Laszlo and the weary longing he gazed at Conall with. "You ask for so little, less than I want to offer," Conall murmured, kissing the side of my head, burrowing his whiskered beard into my hair.

"And you're right—Asterion should speak to you." "He's spoken to you easily enough," I muttered. Conall laughed. "Not really. Not so much as you think, and not since… Never mind. I'll stop meddling." There'd been a moment, the start of a rainstorm and Asterion's strong arms around me, when I'd thought he was everything I wanted and needed to heal. But the weeks in the castle had made it clear that nothing would be so simple. I needed Conall's energy, his wildness. I needed Hywel's colossal power. I needed Laszlo's quiet comfort too. I needed to be wanted, and not from an intangible distance.

"After Amon and Miss Reed destroyed the temple near Jerusalem, Birsha fled England and ran not for his house in Paris, but south to Crete. Eventually, he resurfaced in Rome. We followed his tracks and found another temple, another group of trapped monsters. We don't know how many of these places he has, how many monsters are sustaining him, but we are certain he keeps them out of reach of the lodestones and his businesses."

"He has another Divinity in his Shanghai house, a young man, but he's there of a…voluntary nature at the moment," Conall explained. "Are you sure?" I asked sharply. Asterion nodded. "He won't leave, we're certain, although when we're ready to take that house down too, he'll be an ally." "He has a lover in the house he's determined to protect," Conall said.

"How many of your allies stand with you not because they care about the mistreatment of humans, of women like me, but because they resent being challenged by a man who was human once?" Conall pulled back into his own seat, reaching for his wine, and Laszlo and Asterion both stared at me. I continued, "How many are just waiting for Birsha to fall so they can steal for themselves in the reckoning?" "Several, I imagine," Asterion said in a low velvet tone, drawing my eyes to his. "I will fight them too. And I will not be alone, I promise you that."

I'd been right earlier. There were pieces of Conall, Laszlo, and Hywel that I needed. But I'd been right about Asterion too. His dark eyes held mine, and there was no doubt when he made me the vow, no shy reluctance, no hiding from me. He was solid and safe and strong, and he would not falter in protecting me for as long as I allowed him to.

"You said the temple near Jerusalem was destroyed. When was this? How long before The Seven Veils fell?" "His focus was on the Company of Fiends at the time," Conall murmured. "The what?" "A theater that hired monsters and humans to perform…sexual acts? Skits?" Asterion looked charming when puzzled. "Entertainments," Conall drawled, answering for him. Asterion hummed and nodded. "Sexual performances for an audience of monsters." My eyes widened. "That exists?"

"I know…" I startled in my seat, not surprised that Laszlo remained with me, but shocked by the tentative tone of his voice, the stumble and pause of his words. He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the door, and I thought he might not speak at all, or even rise and leave. "I know there is a great deal of life you missed during your time with Birsha," Laszlo said softly, focus sliding in my direction, shoulders tipping toward me. "I don't wish to deprive you of anything, any experience, but please know that this castle is your sanctuary as long as you should wish it." The castle? I wondered. Or the men within its walls?

My hands shook as I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around myself, toes diving into the slippers that sat warming in front of the fire. I would make my way down to Hywel. I'd find rest there if I didn't…if I didn't find company on the way down. I paused, my door half-open, and realized that I didn't want to go back to sleep. I didn't want to curl up in Hywel's scales unless he was going to open his eyes and grin with all the terrifying beauty of his dragon's smile. I wanted company. I wanted someone to take my hand and pull me into their chest, wanted another body's heat to warm mine. Poetry, whether bawdy or beautiful, would be welcome too.

"You're being an ass." My steps faltered at Conall's hiss. "We agreed we would come and go," Asterion answered, his lower, smoother tone just barely clear. "Fine. You've come. And so I will go." "She needs you. I've seen the pair of you—" Conall scoffed. "Oh, I'm well aware you've seen us." I tiptoed down to the balcony, remaining in the shadowed alcove of the stairs to listen. They were not in the main open space of the great hall, but I recognized the warm flicking firelight of a smaller study than Laszlo's. "If you spent less time watching and more time speaking to her, you'd be less eager to run so quickly," Conall snapped. "I am not eager, don't be absurd. You…you know what I am resisting."

I tipped my head and searched around the castle. It was improbable that I should hear them so clearly, even when there was not a single other sound in the vast space, but the conversation circled me, and I wanted to hear it. The castle was gifting me the ability to spy, another piece of the strange and wonderful magic of this place.

Asterion cleared his throat and continued. "Still, I will go back to London. Ask who we might reach in the east. Find a witch who can arrange a more immediate communication." "I could do the same. I am more charming than you," Conall joked, earning a grunt. "Admit to me you're avoiding Evanthia." "Don't you want to stay?" Asterion snapped, a chair screeching its heels over stone. "I can still smell you on her. Barely." "Of course I do, but not so you can position us about to your liking. To your preferred avoidance of the woman. I am… I do want to be what she needs, but I know I am not all of it. Not enough all at once," Conall said.

"War haunts us all; even Hunter knows its trauma. No one looks forward to what comes with a rise against Birsha. You're too hard on yourself. You will be what she needs. Or…or Hywel, if his intention is sincere." "Anyone but you?" Conall bit out. There was a settling quiet. My fingertips traced over the rough edges and grooves of the stone wall. "I am not the hero," Asterion said, drawing me back to them. "I was created out of punishment, born out of spite, and raised to terrorize." My brow furrowed. I knew the minotaur's story, trapped in the labyrinth, killing those who threatened the king who'd captured him. "You've paid your penance," Conall said lightly. "If Evanthia wants me, she will choose me." "And only you?" Conall asked with a soft growl. Asterion grunted in answer. "Not if you aren't here. You are miserable. And a fool."

Boots stepped over stone, scuffed against carpet, and across the shadows of the floor stretched the shadow of two broad horns. Asterion's steps echoed but the castle played tricks on us both, and his path didn't cross mine, didn't bring him out to the square balcony I hid on. "I can smell you," Conall said softly, startling me as I held my breath in the dark. His own shadow appeared on the floor, but he moved steadily to the center of the hall and I tiptoed out of the alcove and to the bannister, the pair of us facing one another, his face lifted toward mine. "Come down, mo chroí," Conall whispered when I refused to speak first.

It was one thing to claim noble intentions, but I would've preferred the intention to remain with me.

Conall turned his head, his nose brushing aside my loose strands of hair to graze a kiss against my ear.

Wooden stairs groaned and steps thunked against the stone tile floor. "What are you doing?" "Trying to remember how to bake bread, but this is…" I raised a hand, stretching my fingers to show Asterion the mess that clung to my fingers. I turned to glance at him and then let out a yelp of surprise at the man at my back. "Forgive me," Asterion gasped, stumbling backward, gloved hands raised at either side of the absurdly pretty human face. My hand was over my heart and I looked down, frowning now at the imprint of wet dough. "What's possessed you to wear that ridiculous disguise here?" I snapped, going back to my work. "I didn't want to frighten you." "So you sneak up behind me looking like a stranger?"

I let out a laugh, but it was a bitter sound, covered by another slap of dough. "I thought you knew by now that I prefer—" "It's kind of you to say so, but—" "Oh, Asterion, shut up!" I cried. He did so immediately.

A step retreated behind me. "I like your face," I ground out, and the steps stopped again. "I worry…I worry I will remind of your time at The Seven Veils." "You are a minotaur. I am a demigoddess. Laszlo has talons. Conall, a tail," I recited, shrugging and standing straight again. "I'm not human, Asterion. I've—" fallen in love with "—admired many faces in my long life." He fidgeted at my back, eyeing the door. "I was never raped by a minotaur," I said plainly, and Asterion let out a gargle of anger and sorrow. "There were werewolves at The Seven Veils, but that doesn't mean I fear Conall."

It was a terrible simplification, but Asterion's mind was stubborn and I was exhausted. It was simplifications or smashing his thick head against the wall. But his horns would either stop the impact or get stuck in the plaster.

He'd given me so few opportunities to study him by daylight, and the kitchen seemed to be perpetually glowing with streams of sunlight, even on days when outside it was foggy and drizzling. His skin gleamed, burnished copper and dark brass, rich shades of brown and glimmers of red. The gold paint on his horns was slightly faded, and I wondered what ceremony he made of the decoration. Did he have a brush or use his fingers? "You're very impatient," Asterion said, taking my hands in his and turning me back to the table.

"Yes," Asterion agreed. "For the first half of my life, I was exactly the sort of creature Birsha believes monsters to be—a captive beast, and then a scavenger in hiding after I escaped the labyrinth." "In the story, Theseus killed you." "He nearly did," Asterion said, nodding. "But my half-sister, Ariadne, gave him false information about my body. It's easy to convince a man that the monster he faces in battle is wildly different than him. He missed my heart by a few inches, and he was far too eager to leave the labyrinth to wait until I finished bleeding out. He dropped his spool at my feet and followed the string out. Days later, when I was strong enough, I did too."

Asterion's motions were mesmerizing, a hypnotic rhythm in the rolling and stretching and shaping of the dough, the ragged edges smoothing to a silky finish. I entertained a whimsical fantasy of him transforming in the same way with those touches.

"I tried to give into the bull's blood for a long time, be the animal King Minos saw me as, the nightmare Zeus had fashioned as a joke, but…eventually, my mother's blood won out. I watched. I learned. I studied the hunters I hid from, and then the farmers whose land I circled. One night, I watched a pack of travelers turn into wolves. They sniffed me out immediately, but they had no qualms about my company, wild and untamed as I was. They taught me to cook, to s...

debating over asking Asterion to let me follow him around the castle, asking him to tell me more stories or let me pore over maps with him. He was hovering too, neither of us speaking. We'd made hardly any conversation up until last night and just now, but I liked his mind, his low voice.

Asterion rumbled, his head turning to the door, and I huffed out a sigh, giving up on snaring this minotaur's attention. My hands loosened at the same moment that his grabbed my hips, clutching tightly and pulling me up to my toes. I gasped as Asterion bowed, my face already lifted to his, ready to accept the rough and slightly clumsy kiss. Néktar rushed over my tongue and down my throat, Asterion's delight in the kiss so incredibly potent, as strong as the fury with which his tongue took my mouth. I moaned, an eager and languid form giving into his hands as one slid up my spine to hold the back of my neck. He groaned and the sound shook me down to my core, a pulse and throb of willing interest answering the sound. And then, as quickly as he'd claimed me, I was released, set aside. I stumbled, unbalanced, and found Laszlo standing at the top of the short stairs that let into the kitchen. "Excuse me," Asterion said, bowing to me and heading for the door.

Laszlo hummed. "Perhaps. I came to see if you'd like to try and rouse Hywel." I straightened at that. "You want to try and wake him? Do you think we could?" "Nothing I've tried has worked thus far, but we might at least entertain ourselves." Laszlo stepped back, crooking one arm and opening the other toward the dark doorway that I'd found during my first search.

He sleeps in a hole he dug and burrowed into under the ground. It only looks so fine thanks to his imagination." "And all the treasure," I pointed out. Laszlo hummed in agreement. "He started napping in the pool centuries ago. I knew then he was getting ready to hibernate. He would paw and dig and slither deeper with every brief sleep. But he refused to bring his hoard down." "Why?" Laszlo was quiet as we turned down the steps leading to the hoard. "He didn't want to admit it was time." "He didn't want to leave you." Laszlo tipped his head in acknowledgement. "He hasn't." "How long is he meant to sleep for?" I asked. "No one knows. He slept once when he was much younger, but time wasn't as well tracked then."

Laszlo's hands went to the draping fabric at the front of his waist, untying the sash. The twin drapes of fabric slid aside, and at his back, folds and crosses of material swung loose, revealing smooth planes of golden skin and knots of muscle that grew thicker and more pronounced, trails of feathers falling down the lines of his shoulder blades where his wings sprouted from. I hadn't realized the many layers of his shirt were really one long, continuous garment that crossed and twisted around his wings, and my fingers now itched to touch, to assist, to unbind a body that was broader than I'd imagined, more structured than slim.

"You don't wear a disguise like Asterion, but this isn't your full gryphon form, is it?" "No, I can change at will. I take myself flying over the sea sometimes, but I prefer this form," Laszlo said. "I like to read. And work with my hands," he added, smirking with the hint of a secret. He used one knuckle to slide his glasses up his nose and turned back to study Hywel with a tipped head.

He was stroking and petting at the thick red cocks that were stiffening and sliding out of their sleeve, palms flat and swirling in a circle around the tops. He stepped back as I neared, one arm dropping to his side, making room for me to stand between him and Hywel. As soon as I did, his arm wrapped around me, nestling me between their heat. I wanted to lean back and press myself against his chest and hips, but I focused on the task before me. My hands joined Laszlo's, gasping at the sharper burn of Hywel's tender flesh, at how silky and vulnerable it felt under my touch, so unlike his firm scales. "He's as eager as a puppy, really," Laszlo murmured, his lips close to my ear.

The cock I was petting jerked and butted forward, nudging into my chest and leaving a damp mark against my chemise. I laughed and bent my head, kissing the slippery flesh, finding a pleasantly sweet and salty flavor on my lips. Laszlo huffed as the cock he'd been attending bucked as well, as if asking for the same treatment. "Greedy beast," he said fondly, and then he wrapped his arms around both lengths in a firm hug and pulled them gently.

Laszlo said, and this time the press of his feathers to my skin was more direct, his cheek rubbing against mine. I obeyed the nudging, arching my head to the side, exposing my throat. Laszlo's spectacles glinted out of the corners of my eyes as his head bowed. Our hands stuttered over Hywel's flesh as Laszlo kissed a wet mark against the curve of my shoulder. His hips fit against my ass, arousal hinting as he leaned into me, crowded me closer to Hywel. Our arms slid around and over, petting Hywel's cocks, and then Laszlo was touching me, not Hywel, slippery hands sliding up my waist, around my ribs, to cup and lift my breasts. I moaned and arched, and Laszlo's wings fluttered at his back, shrouding us, the pulse and pound of flesh cradled against my body as he squeezed me tenderly. That's very pleasant, but I'd rather you came up here where I can watch.

I gasped at the sudden boom and stroke of Hywel's voice in my head, but Laszlo didn't so much as flinch, his kisses trailing halfway up my throat and then back down to the slope of my shoulder. It worked, I thought. Hywel had woken. Laszlo was cupping and rolling my breasts in his hands, nipples caught between his knuckles, and Hywel was dripping arousal onto my nightdress. I squirmed between one enormous, wriggling cockhead and Laszlo's hips. Laszlo, Hywel growled. "You didn't share, why should I?" Laszlo rasped into my skin, but he sighed as Hywel snarled again, tail thumping and crashing into more gold. Laszlo lifted his head, nudging his temple against mine.

Laszlo's arm banded around my back, lifting me off my toes and carrying us both out of the many pillows. His hand reached up, talons bracing carefully around my face, holding me as he pulled away, blinking down through the clear shine of his glasses. His talon stroked across my bottom lip, a sharp drag, and his pupils flared as he stared at the motion. I wanted to touch him. I had before we'd fondled Hywel, and now that the dragon was demanding to watch…I knew what view we ought to give him.

Laszlo's mouth opened to speak, but Hywel rumbled in interruption. Don't dissuade her, darling. I've missed the sight of you coming undone under another's touch. It's been years since you brought us guests to play with. Laszlo blushed at the words, but he didn't argue, bending his head down to mine for another delicate kiss.

When I pulled away to start my work of undressing him, Laszlo turned to stare at Hywel. "Asterion says you haven't so much as winked at him," Laszlo said. Asterion doesn't polish my scales…or my cocks.

Laszlo's talons slipped into my hair, and my eyes shut of their own accord, a sigh escaping my lips at the delicate stroke of their sharp tips against my scalp. "Look up at me, dear one," Laszlo murmured.

Laszlo's fingers tightened in my hair. My breath caught in my chest as he forced my gaze up to meet his. His face was shadowed, but his eyes glowed behind his glasses, blazing with hunger and a longing so clear it made me want to shy away.

"How does he like to be touched?" I asked, glancing briefly toward Hywel. Slowly, gently. Kisses and licks, Hywel answered. Laszlo's fingers relaxed in my hair, one soothing down the side of my cheek to cup my jaw. Part of me wanted to pull away, break the lock of our stare, his gaze too intense and tender. But Laszlo had been kind to me, and quiet. And he'd been lonely. I wanted to be perfect for him, to offer him exactly what he wished.

His sac was heavy and thick, bigger than a man's, hanging low and softly covered like his legs. His cock was dark, a purplish red, and I bent my head to kiss its tip as it bobbed up toward my chin. Laszlo let out a shuddering breath, and a thick pour of néktar slithered over my tongue and down my throat. He was as potent as Asterion, but a little less overwhelming. Such an impossible, careful, and gentle man.

I flicked my gaze up, fighting my smile at his open-mouthed wonder, and alternated flicks of my tongue with sucking kisses up one side of his cock. My hands soothed circles over his thighs, his tails swinging around his side to bat and pet at me, one coiling loosely around my right arm. He's rarely selfish, Hywel said.

I leaned back, kissing Laszlo's tip as he caught his breath and straightened. "Who was your favorite?" I asked. "Hywel," Laszlo said, a weak note in his voice revealing the truth. The others provided touch, provided time with Hywel awake during his hibernation. But they weren't beloved. He likes a werewolf's knot, Hywel added, a fangy grin shared with me as Laszlo blushed.

"Hywel likes to watch women's faces. And he liked the giantess who howled as she rode his dragon's cock," Laszlo rasped, retaliating. Laszlo liked the sea beast who choked him with a tentacle as Laszlo took turns fucking all three of their holes. I giggled around Laszlo's cock as he guided it onto my tongue and deep into my mouth. His chin dropped to his chest, and his fingers unraveled my braid, twining it around his fist.

I liked the nest of succubi who nearly starved Laszlo as they took turns fucking him. I liked seeing him covered in sweat and delirious with pleasure. Laszlo was panting, grunting as he fucked my mouth, still slow, deep enough to touch the back of my throat. He wasn't aggressive, but he was demanding, holding me in place for him, moaning when I pulled my cheeks in as he dragged out. My own body answered, clenching on nothing. I'd loved this act once, long ago. Loved making my partner weak with need, at my mercy. It was a kind of restoration to claim that power again. "I liked when Hywel nearly ate them when they wouldn't stop," Laszlo said, grinning briefly.

"I love you," Laszlo gasped, turning his head to Hywel. Hywel's mouth opened and I thought he meant to answer, but instead his tongue flicked out, twining around Laszlo's throat and squeezing. I gasped, and then Laszlo was shouting, driving back between my lips. "You are so beautiful, Evanthia," Laszlo said, starting a racing speech of praise that made me tremble on my knees.

I can't shift yet, but I feel restless. Just a little longer, darling, Hywel said, the words slowing and slurring. Laszlo nodded but didn't pull his gaze from my face.