The warmth woke him. Not the sun, though it poured across the bed in long golden sheets - but the heat of her, still tucked between them like something precious they'd laid claim to and refused to return. His hand was splayed across her belly again, his leg still tangled over hers. On her other side, Viago hadn't moved either, except to pull her close, their fingers still linked loosely beneath the blanket.
Lucanis blinked slowly, adjusting to the light. It was late morning, the sun already high, casting a soft glow across her bare skin. She was on her back now, their covers pushed low, her chest rising and falling with slow, deep sleep. Her head turned slightly toward him, her hair tousled and a little wild from their night. A long lock had fallen across her cheek, almost hiding the pointed rise of her ear. The tip peeked through the strands.
He lifted a hand and carefully brushed the hair aside. Her ear was delicate, like the rest of her, and worn in one lobe was a single small gold ring. Simple. Old. It was not her only piercing - he knew the other ear had more, four or five, sharp little glints of silver and black - but this one was different. Older than the rest. Worn smooth.
Older than her, maybe. Sentimental, then. And she hadn't taken it out. He touched it gently, just with the edge of a knuckle, and her fingers flexed in her sleep.
His eyes traced her face, peaceful now. Her usual wariness melted away in rest. No carefully guarded smile, no clever retorts or sidelong glances. Just Starling, soft and unguarded in their bed, her skin marked in places where his mouth had claimed her the night before.
He looked at the wrist still bound in silk. Carefully, he reached up and untied it. The knot slipped loose, silent beneath his fingers. She didn't stir. Her arm freed, settled between them, and he caught her hand in his.
Their fingers laced together easily. Naturally even. Lucanis exhaled slowly, a low warmth spreading in his chest - possessiveness and pleasure braided tightly into one.
She was still here. In his bed. Between them. Naked and soft.
Lucanis turned his head slightly on the pillow, his gaze drifting past the halo of her hair to Viago, still half-draped along her other side.
His eyes were open. Watching him. Of course they were. There was the faintest trace of amusement in the corner of Viago's mouth, like he'd woken earlier and decided to let Lucanis have his quiet moment before silently filing it away to mock later. A silent smirk, sharp-eyed and smug, like he'd caught him doing something soft.
Lucanis didn't let go of her hand. Fuck him. He'd hold her however he damn well pleased.
He looked back down at her face, at the relaxed slope of her lips, at the way her lashes still lay dark across her cheeks. Her fingers were light in his, curled loosely between his own. He liked her like this. He liked that she hadn't run. That she'd let them tie her down, wear her out, keep her, and that she'd let herself stay.
Viago made a quiet sound. Not a laugh, not quite. A breath that held meaning.
Lucanis lifted a brow in his direction without looking away from her.
"I didn't say anything," Viago murmured innocently.
"You didn't have to," Lucanis said, voice low.
His thumb swept lightly along the back of her hand, her scent still on his skin, her heartbeat a soft thrum beside his own.
She was still here, and still theirs. Let the bastard smirk all he wanted.
--
The light was wrong. Starling blinked against it, her brain slow to catch up, warm and heavy and still half-asleep. This wasn't the Crow Hall. The sun didn't pour in like this through the narrow slits of the barracks dorms. This was…
Fuck.
Her body jolted before her thoughts could string themselves together. She sat up too fast, the sheet sliding down her torso, exposing everything, not that modesty was going to save her now. The curtains were half-drawn, and the sun looked high. Definitely not early. Maybe not even late morning. She swore under her breath, leaning toward the window to squint through the crack in the curtain.
She was late. Really fucking late.
Viago's arm curved up with the same lazy grace it always did, and his lips pressed warm to her bare shoulder. She hated that it made her want to lean back into him.
"You look about ready to bolt," he murmured.
She was. Her heart was still hammering from the shock of waking late. "I am. I'm late, and I still have to go home first." She started to slide to the edge of the bed, and Lucanis caught her wrist.
Not hard or demanding. Just there. Warm fingers around her wrist, holding her still, reminding her without a word that she'd stayed. That she hadn't escaped before dawn like she usually did.
"It's just the Crow Hall," he said, voice low, a little amused. "You're well practised."
"That's not the point," she muttered, pulling at her wrist once, weakly. "They like us where they can see us."
Viago hummed behind her, the sound too pleased, too indulgent. "We can see you just fine," he said, and she could hear the smirk in it before he added, "We'll write you a note. I'll tell them we kept you."
She twisted around to glare at him and instantly regretted it. He was gorgeous. Both of them were.
Lucanis leaned back on one elbow, hair mussed. His lips were curved into a smirk, and his eyes were far too knowing.
Viago, the bastard, was stretched lazily across the pillows, the blanket slung low on his hips, that half-lidded, freshly fucked gleam in his eye like he was already planning to pull her back down.
It made her want to lie back down. Just for a second. Just until the panic in her chest quieted.
Starling exhaled sharply through her nose, dragged a hand down her face, and tried very hard not to look at either of them for too long. It was difficult when they were so... them. All dishevelled and smirky and smug, like this was exactly what they'd wanted. And maybe it was. But she really had to go.
She made the mistake of glancing toward the window again. The sun was even higher than she'd initially realised. Shit. She dragged the sheet with her as she scooted toward the edge of the bed, half-rolling, half-crawling for where her clothes were scattered.
Viago leaned in like a shadow, catching her before she got too far, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was long and slow and honey-warm. She should have pulled away. She meant to. Instead, she melted. Only a little. Just for a moment.
Then she was pulling away again, breathless, dragging her tunic over her head, backward, because of course it was, and fumbling with the laces while Viago's fingers brushed down her spine, lazy and distracting.
"Stop," she hissed, not meaning it at all.
He undid the laces she'd just finished tying.
"Stop," she said again, more firmly this time, but there was laughter edging her words.
Lucanis was no help. He plucked her belt from the floor like a hunter tossing a bone between his hands, watching her with that too-still, too-intent look that always sent her pulse kicking. She had to double back for her sandals, hair falling in her eyes, the tunic now barely laced and far too crooked.
She dropped into the chair to tie the straps around her ankles, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Lucanis knelt before her to help with the other, and when she looked up, he kissed her again, hotter this time. Hungrier. He pulled her up as if she weighed nothing, arms locked tight around her as he kissed her like he was starving.
She didn't resist. Her legs came up around his waist without thinking, instinct more than decision. And then she was pushing, twisting, grinning as she tipped her weight back, dragging him with her just far enough.
He lost his balance, and they both hit the bed, Lucanis landing on his back, startled and amused, and very, very hard.
Viago looked up from where he'd just been stretching, already reaching for her, eager to join. But she was already tilting backward, planting her hands on the floor, and flipping clean over the foot of the bed in a smooth, graceful arc.
By the time they registered what was happening, she was gone, sprinting one barefoot down the hallway, her sandalled foot slapping against stone, laughter trailing in her wake like sunlight.
Lucanis's voice echoed behind her, low and full of frustrated groan. Viago's laugh followed next.
Then the sound of something being thrown at the door. She smiled all the way down the stairs.
--
Lucanis lay where she'd left him, sprawled in a tangle of sheets, skin flushed, hair a mess, and his cock still achingly hard.
The door was still slightly ajar from the force of her exit, her laughter lingering like perfume, stubborn and sweet.
Viago leaned one elbow on the mattress, chin propped in his hand, thoroughly amused. "You look abandoned," he said with a smirk.
Lucanis's only reply was a slow drag of his gaze to Viago's face… then down, a clear flick of his eyes to his still-throbbing erection. It wasn't quite a command. But it was a request.
Viago was already shifting, already crawling across the bed like a satisfied cat. He slid one hand around Lucanis's cock, the other bracing against the mattress, and kissed him - slow, open-mouthed, dirty. Lucanis growled into the kiss, hips shifting. Hungry and frustrated.
Viago stroked him with practised ease, mouth still pressed to his, tongue sliding past teeth. But half of his mind - maybe more than half - was still on her.
That wild little laugh. That flip. That ridiculous, graceful, show-off flip.
She'd used Lucanis like a springboard and turned the whole escape into a game. A performance. Maker, but it had been.... It had been fun.
He grinned against Lucanis's mouth.
Not a word he'd used for this sort of thing before Starling, but there it was. She made everything a little wild, a little off-balance. One moment melting under their hands, the next flinging herself off the bed like a coin from a catapult.
He chuckled again, the vibration of it rolling into Lucanis's throat as he kissed down his jaw.
Then he felt Lucanis's hand close around him - firm, possessive. Viago hummed, pleased.
All in all… not a terrible morning.