Kiss her senseless was what Evan had said. Niall surpassed the challenge. Even without him touching her body, it was lifting up toward him, nipples tingling, sex dampening, muscles quivering as he seduced and plundered, so every nerve ending was attuned to his demand, surrendering to it.

He jerked, a groan vibrating against her lips. His body rocked forward against her double-handed grip on his T-shirt, her fingers digging into his sides. Evan was kneeling behind him, and had yanked Niall’s trousers down out of his way.

She couldn’t see Evan’s cock, but when he thrust it into Niall’s ass, she felt it all the way to her womb, her need intensifying as he put his hands on the Scot’s hips and drove deep, making Niall groan again. Sharing the memory of their first meeting had obviously stirred their Master, giving him an urgent need.

The intensity in the two sets of gazes that met hers was enough to take her breath away. “Kiss him, Alanna,” Evan ordered.

She was trying, but Niall was so overwhelming, she was just along for the ride. She ran her hands up his solid biceps, clutching as he teased her lips, bit her, moved to her throat to bite as Evan rammed into him. Being this close to the two males fucking was as primitive and mysterious an experience as watching that mountain lion in the wood.

Finding the hem of Niall’s shirt, she raked it up so she could run her nails over his chest. Evan’s thrusts were plowing Niall a little farther up her body, so she could close her hands on his bare cock, the wet tip trailing her stomach. When he came, he would come on her skin. Following her desires, she pulled open her shirt. She arched to release the bra, flushing with sexual heat under Niall’s avid gaze. He knew full well why she was doing it, and that shared knowledge just aroused her further. His facial muscles were tense, flexing with Evan’s movement inside him, his lips tight against the desire.

Her legs were spread to make room for his knees. It wasn’t practical, but she wished she’d worn one of her skirts. In this position, it was likely he would drive into her if given that opportunity and . . .

No. I want to see you soak the crotch of your jeans just from watching us. Your scent is intoxicating, Alanna.

“Bastard,” Niall muttered. Evan chuckled maliciously, giving him a harder thrust.

“Your own fault, neshama. You woke needing to be fucked.”

Alanna reared up, took Niall’s mouth again. She wanted him to know how wet they were both making her. When Niall groaned and kissed her back in his overwhelming way, she raked her fingers over his chest again, then up his rib cage, over his sides, to his back. Evan’s hands overlapped hers, capturing her there, holding her tangled fingers with one hand as he braced himself against Niall’s buttock with the other.

Niall was grunting with each thrust, and his cock was pushing against her belly. Yet the movement of his mouth over hers held her prisoner as much as Evan restraining her hands. Her pussy was throbbing, hungry for attention, but she put everything into the kiss, as her Master had required.

With a snarl, Niall came, jerking against Evan’s hold, his heated seed spraying across her stomach, her breasts, her throat. She quivered from it, continued to kiss him long and deep as he groaned into her mouth, muttered expletives. He kept kissing her back, though, with passionate ferocity. Evan came right then as well, and she opened her eyes to see the concentration of his face, the dangerous light in his eyes, the gleam of his fangs.

She was quivering, needy. It was one of the most erotic things she’d ever experienced, despite a long list of far more elaborate sexual scenarios. Even though they hadn’t fucked her, she was shaky from head to toe. When Niall put his face against her neck, breathing hard, she shuddered. It seemed natural to put an arm around his shoulders. To reach up toward Evan. He captured her hand, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he bent his head to her palm and kissed it. When his lips passed over her InhServ tattoo, on the soft skin under her forearm, she quivered anew. With his second mark, the InhServs’ cut had healed, leaving only the sign of her service there, caressed by his mouth.

“It’s time to return to the cabin,” Evan said at last, stroking his other hand down Niall’s back. “You’ll sleep with us, Alanna. And dream good dreams, because Niall and I are here. We’ll be around you.”

On the way back to the cabin, she told Evan about the correspondence. “You were invited to a wedding, scheduled for next week.”

“Did you RSVP?” Evan directed the question to Niall, who’d been quiet since they left the clearing.

“Aye. I kept the invitation so we’d have the details.”

“You should mark the invitation,” Alanna said primly. “That way there’s no confusion about what’s been handled.”

Evan shot Niall a look. “Sounds like you’ve been replaced as my secretary.”

“Thank the gods.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just—”

She stopped when Niall bumped her hip in affectionate amusement. Evan was pleased to see she was learning. Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “Are you attending the wedding?”

“Yes.” Niall answered for them both. “So are you. If you’re still . . . Unless they’ve resolved things and reassigned you.”

Niall fell silent again. Alanna gave him a peculiar look, but little else was said. When they arrived in their cabin clearing, Evan put his pack on the picnic table. He studied his servant’s brooding profile as the Scot did his usual check of the grounds to ensure the precautions, like the shotgun, were still in place.

Alanna intercepted Niall, retrieving the empty picnic basket he’d insisted on carrying down the mountain. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Niall. I know what will happen when the Council kills Stephen.” Clearing her throat, she added, “Though I want them to achieve their objectives, I hope the wedding happens before then. I’ve never been to one.”

Carrying their empty picnic basket, she disappeared inside. Niall stared after her.

“Does it even matter to her?”

“Of course it does.” Evan sighed. “She’s been trained to accept a vampire’s will without question. Her life can be taken for no other reason than her Master desires it so, and she accepts that.”

“Bollocks,” Niall snapped. “She’s afraid. I can feel it, every time she lets herself feel.”

So could Evan. He knew it fought to take hold of her every waking moment, but she wouldn’t let it. “Her training ensures that every unpleasant emotion can be controlled. She treats her fear as an insult to her submission, her total acceptance that the Council dictates whether she lives or dies.”

“And ye have no problem with that?” Niall gave him an incredulous look.

“Vampires are what vampires are, Niall.” Evan set his jaw. “But training alone can’t make a person stand fast on a battlefield where they know they’ll be cut down. Honor and courage are required. Training only works if strength and integrity are already part of the mold.”

Niall met his gaze. “This isn’t about that.”

“The way a man—or woman—sees the world, is all about who they are, Niall.”

“She expected something different from her life. You made her admit it.”

“Yes, but one admission won’t change a lifetime of conditioning.” Evan lifted a brow at Niall’s sour expression. “First you criticize me for pulling her out of that shell. Now you’re full of moral outrage over the shell itself. Make up your mind, Niall.”

As the vampire turned toward the cabin, Niall stared at his unyielding back. Damn him. He was at the end of his life, and aye, he had a normal man’s anxiety about what happened in the hereafter, but she’d barely had a life at all. Twenty-nine years old. Bloody, fucking vampires.

He wasn’t ready to go into the house. He’d get a drink from the well, maybe chop some more wood. Instead, he pivoted and kicked the picnic table. The force of the blow was enough to flip it, and to bring Evan to a halt. Niall clenched his fists at the cool gray gaze that was judging, assessing. Waiting.

“She was a vampire’s ideal little Barbie doll. The moment she wasnae, her mind and soul were torn apart, and every day is borrowed time. She’s standing on the front lines like a lad at his first fight, only there’s nae telling when the horn will blow to have it done with. She has to hold that fear inside her every moment. No one even gives a shit. It’s all about catching Stephen.”

“Not for me.”

“No. She’s the same as everything else you encounter in your life. She’s a blank canvas.” Niall sneered at him. “When it happens, will you capture it all on film?”

Niall didn’t even see the blow coming. One moment he was facing the vampire, the next he’d been punched soundly, sending him rolling. Niall sprang back to his feet, a red haze across his vision. Throughout their lives together, Evan had inflicted pain for pleasure, because like all vampires, Evan enjoyed that. He’d even taught Niall to understand and embrace it. But he could count on one hand the times Evan had struck him down for crossing a line.

He was still vibrating from that hard fucking in the glade, the way it felt to be subjugated while over Alanna. She’d kissed him like she couldn’t get enough, pulling him in, twisting things inside of him. The unfairness of it all filled him with fury. With a bellow, he charged.

Evan could have let him crash like a bull into the cabin wall, but he met the frontal assault, and they went down together. He was sure Evan was pulling punches, else he would have knocked his sternum into his spine. It pissed him off further, but he was in the mood for a fight, dirty or fair.

He landed several hard blows, which Evan returned, driving the wind out of him with a fist to the gut. Fuck, he could fight, he’d give him that. Before Evan had been a vampire, he’d been a skinny Jewish kid, and his father had taught him to defend himself. Just as Niall’s da had taught him.

Did Evan remember what it was to be human? To feel all the futile weight of mortality? Niall roared and plowed into him again, taking him off his feet, but Evan somehow brought them to the ground again, hard.