Eggs would do.

Nox found plenty for the four of them and returned to the treeloft. Before he left this morning, he’d sat on the edge of the bed and admired Rayne in her sleep. At peace. He worried about her coping without him after they’d spent all this time together. The six months apart had only strengthened their bond. Perhaps the same would prove true of Nox’s inevitable imprisonment.

No matter the outcome, he regretted nothing.

Loud music greeted Nox upon entry, along with chatter.

Sagan asked, “So what was it like destroying Enki?”

Before Nox rounded the corner to the dining space, Rayne said, “Nox told me dying hurt, so he asked to take the pain from me.”

He paused, surprised she was so forthcoming. It made Nox sound like a hero when all he wanted was to spare her from it.

Rayne’s voice was soft as she asked, “Korac, do you think telling Xelan about it would help?”

“It’s hard to say, your majesty. Even as children, Nox took the brunt of Umbra off Savis, Xelan, and I.” Korac kept talking even as he saw Nox come around the corner. “It could invoke memories of the older brother protector, and I’m certain the Co-Emperor will factor that into his considerations. I have faith his imperial majesty will be fair.”

Nox’s General was sitting in a chair with Sagan braiding one side of his hair. Rayne was twisting along the other side. The girls moved to the music, concentrating while Korac languished under their undivided attention. They tied ribbons and hooked rings throughout their lattice work, enjoying the task. Neither was truly aware of how few people Korac had allowed to touch him.

At Nox’s quirked brow, Korac gave a cavalier shrug and an arrogant dip of his chin. What could he say? Everyone loved the hair.

Sagan looked up first, and Nox found himself victim to the sweetness in her smile. She radiated sunshine.

Rayne was deep in thought at her task until Korac cleared his throat into his fist. When she looked up and saw Nox, that emotion—the one akin to love—illuminated her face. She dropped everything to run across the dining room and jump into his arms. He caught Rayne under her thighs and held her there. Nox reached up and tucked a strand of hair which had escaped her braid behind her ear.

The scent of surf and seashells accompanied the dazzling light in Rayne’s eyes as she stared down into Nox’s gaze. He returned the smile, and she bit her lip, sending a thrill through him.

One of them ought to speak, so Nox said, “Hi.”

Rayne released her lip to give him a goofy smile. “Hi. How was your hunt?”

“Not nearly as interesting as your morning.”

A light blush graced Rayne’s cheeks as she said, “Hopefully, I’ve made it more titillating for you.”

Nox glanced down and realized the white loose and low-cut top Rayne was wearing exposed a satin bra beneath it, matching her eyes. The material framed her breasts in an enticing invitation, made more so given they were in the company of others and couldn’t fulfill the temptation.

More than anything, Nox wanted to kiss Rayne. He let it show in his eyes as he quirked a brow and asked, “Is this a game you want to play?” By Elden, he would throw her over his shoulder and carry her out to the forest if it came to it.

Rayne bit her lip again—the siren—and gave a single nod.

“We did not Seamswalk across the galaxy to watch you two mate.”

Sagan snickered at her husband’s admonishment, but Nox could hear the humor lying beneath it.

Rayne mouthed, “Later,” and patted Nox’s bicep to set her down. He let her free to return to the General’s hair, and Nox paid special attention to how her black leggings hugged her ass and the contours of the muscles she worked hard to maintain.

It wasn’t Korac who caught Nox looking.

Sagan beamed and mouthed, “I. Know. Right?” She’d dressed in her own distracting sparring gear. Her white top was one swath of material criss-crossed and haltered to cover only her breasts. Even her white shorts clung to her like a second skin, revealing the undersides of her curves when she moved. Nox only noticed because Rayne kept a close eye on the bottom region, nearly tearing a chuckle out of him.

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It seemed Nox was the only one who’d missed the gear invitation. Korac was wearing motorcycle pants with Kevlar in the knees and chains from the pockets to the knee pads. And, of all things, a t-shirt made of chain-mail. It jingled as he shifted. On anyone else, it would look outlandish. But on Korac…

“I approve of your gear, soldier.” Nox meant it.

Did Korac know he straightened? Or was it a reflex? “Once you’re free, I’ll introduce you to my tailor.”

Lucas.

Yes. An Icarus of his reputation warranted an introduction. Soon.

Until then, Nox would savor this moment. The girls dancing and gossiping. Korac preening under their ministrations. Music and friends.

Nox headed for the kitchen. “I’ll cook us some breakfast while you ladies spoil our General.”

Korac chuffed. “Ignore him, girls. My King is simply jealous of your attentions.”

Sagan finished a braid and started the next one, offering out of hand, “Well, Nox, if you’d like, Rayne and I could do you next.”

Ah. Sweet, naïve Seamswalker. Sagan didn’t know the error of her phrasing, but Korac and Rayne knew. The former stiffened and looked up at his wife, while the latter peered over at Nox and winked.

Sagan pouted. “What?”

Korac took her hand and kissed it. “Nothing, amos. Nox knows you didn’t mean to offer him a threesome with Rayne.”

Rayne snickered at how Sagan’s eyes doubled in size. “Oh.”

“But you presented an excellent idea.” Korac stood and gestured for Nox to sit. “Your majesty, I insist you take my place while I cook.”

Unable to control it, Nox’s brows shot up.

The girls were quick to agree. Rayne said, “Please. It’ll be fun to give you a makeover.”

Sagan gave a little bounce. “Please?!”

This was an odd position Korac had put Nox in. In fact, his General passed him on the way to the kitchen, saying under his breath, “You don’t want to disappoint them, now do you?”

With a sigh, Nox resigned himself to his fate. “Fine.”

For twenty minutes, the two women pampered Nox while he tried to relax despite how much he flinched at the contact, initially. Rayne was careful with him and lingered within his line of sight so he could track where she’d touch him next. Like a ball of sunshine, Sagan danced, brushed, and braided, oblivious to Nox’s discomfort.

The Seamswalker said, “Now, once we finish, go upstairs and change to match the rest of us. Have fun with it.”

Nox glanced up at Rayne, and she approved with a nod and a smirk. “Show me what you’ve got.” By dipping slightly, the loose top gaped, further exposing her breasts. He was rising to the challenge.

“That’s cheating,” Sagan said, a little breathy.

“No. No. I can’t even see what’s happening, but I can hear my wife. Stop with the threesome energy and come eat.”

Rayne winked and said, “Be right there.” To Sagan, she gestured. “Get the mirror.”

Nox peered at himself and blinked. Aggressive and smoldering, it reminded him of the only time he let Korac dress him for a conquest festival. Nox had fended off more invitations to dance that night than any other he could recount. At their expectant faces, he asked, “You don’t find the eyeliner too excessive?”

Both girls shook their head, and Sagan insisted, “Eyeliner is never too much. Especially with your lashes.” Everything about her was so sincere it was disarming.

The mischievous sparkle in Rayne’s eye captivated Nox as she leaned to whisper, “Dress with me in mind.”

With their encouragement and outright fawning, Nox’s face burned as he made his way upstairs. Below, the girls helped Korac dish out breakfast on the island.

Hard leather pants. Soft leathers pants. Those were Nox’s only options. He went with the soft ones. For a shirt…

Dress with Rayne in mind.

A few minutes later, when he turned the corner into the kitchen, Nox finished securing the last buckle holding the front of his cobalt shirt together. The material clung to him and strained against the straps, fastening it down the center. He chose it because the straps gaped and left a good deal of skin exposed. Skin he’d decorated with paint for Rayne.

When she looked away from Sagan, mid-conversation, Rayne’s eyes went straight to the Icarean script. As her nacre translated it while she read, a soft smile pulled at her lips.

Korac smirked and conceded, “Well, I suppose you should dress to surpass me at least once in our lifetimes.”

Sagan smiled so widely at Nox, her freckles scrunched on her nose.

After reading the opening to her Verse on display, Rayne said, “So I assume there’s more?”

Nox winked as he took his place at the table. “For every strike you land on me in today’s sparring match, you can see a little more.”

Sagan clapped in delight. “Strip fighting?! Oh my god! Neither of you boys has enough layers for this.”

As Nox looked Sagan over at the single bit of fabric covering her upper body, he met Korac’s eyes and raised a brow. “What say you General?”

Korac chuckled, and it was rich. Pride suffused his voice as he said, “If you can lay a finger on a Seamswalker, then I won’t argue as to the prize.” The smirk at the end cemented his confidence in his mate.

Sagan nodded across the table at Rayne, asking, “What about you? Your clothes are kinda… a part of you, right?”

“Her clothes come off,” Nox said it out of hand, but Sagan and Korac turned their eyes slowly to him with identical, knowing grins.

Rayne blushed, but refused to let it stop her from saying, “He’s right. They are actual material I manifest with the nanites in my nacre. I only reabsorb my clothes to avoid laundry.” Her face blossomed into a smile. “But it doesn’t matter because Sagan’s on my team, and you guys are so gonna lose. I hope you remembered to wear some boxers under those tight pants.”

Korac cleared his throat, but kept his eyes on the last of his eggs and chewed without a word.

Sagan and Rayne looked at each other across the table and snickered.

Until Nox cleared his throat.

They both blushed, and Korac glared at him.

This would make for an interesting afternoon.