The bath had been exquisite torture, clear river water flowing around us, cool enough to raise gooseflesh on my skin, yet I burned wherever they touched me. The willows whispered overhead as two naked beast men flanked me like living walls of heat, their bodies furnace-warm against the chill of the stream. Ravin’s thigh pressed solid and hot against mine. Leon’s chest radiated warmth at my back. Every brush of our skin, every accidental touch of his hands underwater, made me flinch and flush and want things I wasn’t ready to name, even as the cold water tried to steal my breath. I had washed quickly, too aware of his eyes, of their patience, of the heavy silence that spoke of everything we hadn’t done yet.
But night was worse.
The bed was massive, a stone platform carved from the mountain itself, large enough for three, piled high with furs that smelled of cedar and musk, but it felt suddenly, impossibly small. Leon settled to my right with the careful movements of a man approaching a wild thing, his body radiating warmth I could feel through the thin layer of my sleeping shift. Ravin claimed my left side with possessive ease, his arm already finding my waist, his thumb tracing idle circles that made my breath hitch.
Between them, I lay rigid, staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of every point where their bodies bracketed mine.
"I am happy to share this bed with you, Krys." Leon’s voice cut through the darkness, soft and devastatingly sincere. "Even if we are only mates because you pity me... even if you never choose to touch me as you touch my brother... I am still the luckiest male in Askalda."
My chest constricted, a sharp pain that had nothing to do with my body and everything to do with my heart.
I turned my head to look at him. His dark eyes caught the moonlight filtering through the window, glistening with unshed tears he was too proud to let fall. His smile was tremulous, hopeful, the smile of a man who expected so little and was grateful for crumbs.
He meant it. Every word. He would lie beside me night after night, watching me love his brother, feeling my warmth but never my passion, and he would call himself lucky.
A part of me wanted to do exactly that, to keep him at arm’s length, to protect myself from the complexity of wanting two men, to let Ravin remain my sole focus while Leon became a pleasant shadow in the background. It would be easier. Safer.
But another part of me, the part that remembered Hyunwoo’s cruelty, that knew what it meant to love someone who wouldn’t love you back, recoiled at the thought with visceral horror.
I imagined myself in Leon’s place. Imagined loving Ravin with my whole heart, sharing his bed, his home, his life, only to watch him turn night after night to another woman. Imagined the ache of wanting his hands on me, his mouth, his devotion, and receiving only friendship, only duty, only pity.
Would I be okay with that?
The answer rose in my throat like bile: Never.
I would wither. I would break. I would become bitter and hollow, a shell of myself feeding on scraps of affection.
And I was doing that to Leon. Had been doing it since I claimed him to save him from Rina, then kept him at a distance while I lost myself in Ravin’s arms.
The thought left a nasty taste in my mouth, metallic and shameful.
I reached out in the darkness, finding Leon’s hand where it rested tentatively on the furs between us. His fingers were calloused from hunting, warm and slightly trembling. I squeezed, hard, and felt him go still with surprise.
"Give me time, Leon," I said, my voice rough with emotion I hadn’t expected to feel. "I promise you this, once I come to terms with having more than one mate, once my heart learns to hold you both without breaking... then I will complete our bonding. Fully. In every way."
His breath caught, a sharp hitch that made Ravin shift closer on my other side, listening.
"And I won’t take another mate," I continued, the decision crystallizing as I spoke it aloud. "It will be just you two. Just Ravin. Just you. I won’t spread myself so thin that I have nothing left to give. I won’t collect mates like trophies while both of your hearts starve for attention."
Leon stared at me, his eyes wide and wet, tears finally spilling over to track silver paths down his temples into his hair. He squeezed my hand in return with a grip that spoke of desperate gratitude, of hope rekindled after he had resigned himself to darkness.
"Okay," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I will be patient. I will wait forever if I must. Just the thought that you want me, that you might one day reach for me as you reach for my brother, is enough. More than I dared dream."
He smiled then, and it was like watching the sun rise after endless night, brilliant, blinding, beautiful.
I leaned forward, my heart aching with tenderness I didn’t know I possessed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His skin was fever-warm, smelling of cedar and male and hope. He shuddered beneath my lips, a full-body tremor of a man who had been touched so rarely with gentleness.
I turned then to Ravin, anxiety curling in my stomach. I had made promises that bound him too, to eventually take his brother as a true mate, to refuse the large harem this culture expected, to keep our family small and intimate. I touched his face in the darkness, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, hoping he understood. Hoping he didn’t resent me for closing our circle so tightly.
Instead of words, he captured my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that burned.
"Thank you," he murmured, his golden eyes glowing with an emotion I couldn’t name, relief, perhaps, or gratitude, or love so deep it had no bottom. "I know we both will always love and cherish you. Thank you for accepting Leon. For not leaving him to wither. For being brave enough to hold us both."
I leaned in, kissing him gently, tasting the salt of my own tears on his lips. "Just you two," I whispered against his mouth. "No one else. I promise."
Ravin nodded, his forehead resting against mine, his arm tightening around my waist. "Just us," he agreed. "Our family. However long it takes to build."
And sandwiched between them, my fierce golden lion and my patient dark lion, I finally let myself breathe, let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, I could learn to love them both without breaking any of us.
---
The morning came wrapped in golden light, and wow, it was a glorious sight.
Both brothers were tangled around me, their limbs heavy and warm, their breathing synchronized in the deep rhythm of sleep. Ravin’s arm draped across my waist, possessive even in dreams. Leon’s hand rested tentatively on my hip, as if he had reached for me in the night and fallen asleep before pulling away. And pressed against my sides, hot, hard, unmistakable, I could feel both their cocks, morning arousal thick and insistent, branding my skin where the furs did not cover.
I must look like a dwarf between them, I thought, studying the contrast. They were massive in every way, broad shoulders, thick thighs, heavy muscle that dwarfed my softer, smaller frame. Two warriors. Two princes. And me, a human woman from another world, somehow claimed by both.
I extricated myself carefully, sliding from between their heated bodies, and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads in turn. Ravin woke first, his golden eyes fluttering open, his lips curling in a smile that was pure, satisfied male. His hand found my waist immediately, pulling me back, his fingers roaming my body in a lazy, claiming way that made my breath hitch.
"Ravin..." I hissed, glancing at Leon, who still slept, dark lashes against his cheeks. "Leon is right here."
"Leon will understand," Ravin purred against my ear, his voice rough with sleep, his hand sliding lower to cup my hip. "A beast loves touching and loving his female. It’s in our blood, Krys. To wake and reach for you, to confirm you’re real, to feel you warm and willing beside us."
I stilled, realization washing over me like cold water.
Damn. Was I telling him, was I showing him, that I’d been deliberately hurting Leon? Because Leon couldn’t cling to me like this, couldn’t wake and reach for me without fear of rejection, without the memory of my hesitation hanging between us. I had been denying him the simple affection that Ravin have been showering me, the casual touches that meant everything in a world where females were worshipped.
Pushing that guilt aside, I focused on Ravin’s hand, warm and heavy on my hip. It was fine. I had already promised Leon I would try. He just had to give me time. We all needed time.
"I want to make more pillows," I said, changing the subject, my voice bright with forced cheerfulness. "One for you and Leon too. They’re very comfortable."
Ravin made a face, his nose wrinkling in that adorable way he had when confronted with foreign ideas I tell him. "It’s comfortable as it is though, Krys. The furs are soft enough."
"No," I insisted, smiling at his confusion. "It feels better, like sleeping on top of clouds. Like being cradled by the sky itself. You’ll see."
"Did you want me to get more cotton from the tree like last time?"
The voice came from my other side, soft and sleepy. I turned to find Leon awake, his dark eyes hazy with dreams, his hair mussed and sticking up in a way that made my chest ache with tenderness. His sleepy voice sounded so innocent, so vulnerable, that I wanted to gather him up and promise him everything right then.
"Yes," I said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Would you mind terribly if I asked you to get more? I want to make both of you a pillow. Something that’s just yours."
"Not at all," Leon said, his smile blooming slow and sweet, his ears perking with pleasure. "Whatever you wish to do, I will support it. Whatever makes you happy, Krys."
"Thanks, Leon," I said, my voice thick with emotion I wasn’t ready to name.
The boys did just that. While I bathed in the stream, alone this time, insisting I needed privacy to think, they ranged out to the silk cotton trees, climbing with their beast agility to harvest the soft, white fluff that grew in the pods. I returned to our chamber to find a mountain of cotton waiting, the boys watching me with curious, hopeful eyes.
I set to work with a focus that bordered on obsession.
I found the fish bones I had saved from last night’s meal, using them to punch holes through the softened hide I had prepared. I threaded sinew through the eye of a bone needle, crude, but effective, and began to sew, stitching the edges of the leather squares together, leaving one side open to stuff with cotton.
The work was meditative. My hands knew this rhythm from my old life, from sewing buttons and hemming pants, but this was different. This was creation from nothing. This was taking the raw materials of this world and shaping them into something new, something that hadn’t existed here before.
As I worked, the vision expanded in my mind.
I wanted to modernize our life. Not drastically, at least a bit, because I respected this world, these people, their ways. But I would use the knowledge of my world for them, where it could help, where it could bring comfort.
Clothing first, proper clothing, not just wraps and loincloths. Tunics with sleeves to protect from the sun. Trousers for riding. Soft undergarments for the women, who deserved more than scratchy wool against their most delicate skin.
Beauty products next. I knew which plants held oils that could soften skin, which flowers could be pressed for perfume, which roots could be ground into powders that enhanced rather than masked. The women of this world were beautiful; they could be radiant.
And medicines. Oh, the medicines I could make. I knew herbs that fought infection, that eased pain, that brought down fever. I knew the importance of cleanliness in healing wounds, of boiling water before drinking, of separating the sick from the healthy to stop the spread of disease.
My hands moved faster, stuffing the cotton into the first pillowcase, sewing it closed with tight, even stitches. I held it up, admiring my work, lumpy, imperfect, but soft. So soft.
"For you," I said, pressing it into Ravin’s hands.
He took it, surprised, his fingers sinking into the fluff. "It’s... it’s like holding a cloud," he breathed, wonder in his voice.
"And for you," I said, handing the second to Leon.
He accepted it with both hands, cradling it to his chest like a treasure. "You made this for me?"
"I made this because of you," I corrected gently. "Because you believed in me. Because you waited."
And as they lay their heads on their pillows that night, as they sighed with contentment and reached for me in the darkness, I knew that this was just the beginning. I would bring my world to theirs, piece by piece, comfort by comfort, until they understood that I was staying. That I was theirs. That I was home.