Luther woke as the carriage rumbled over the familiar road home. He stirred, though the two heads using his shoulders as pillows and the bodies attached to them weighed him down.
“Hey, you.” Jowangshin’s soft voice made him open his eyes. “You’re finally awake.”
Jowangshin sat across from him, staring out the window at a cloudy sky. The rain had stopped, or they’d escaped it, but the clouds hid the sky. The wet earth reported on the rain’s recent presence, and the horses neighed in eagerness ahead. They knew they were nearing home and close to the end of their labor. Soon they’d receive their due: dried, brushed, bags of oats, clean water to drink, and dry, warm, and cozy stalls to sleep in.
Such a bed sounded good to Luther, as sleep clung to his senses.
“I’m exhausted,” Luther said, yawning.
“No surprise there,” Jo said. “You pushed our magic to its limit.”
Luther nodded. “And we emerged victorious.”
“You didn’t have to, for us to be victorious,” Jo said. “You were showing off for the crowd, teleporting Lucas’s body parts away the way you did.”
Luther couldn’t argue. “You’re right,” Luther said. “Between that and having to prove my arcanum, we could have left the battlefield with more.”
“Speaking of Lucas, since you’ve kept your oaths,” Jo continued, pressing her momentum at his admission. “May I burn Lucas’s remains when we arrive?”
Luther considered the request. It didn’t surprise him, and might even go a long way to helping him and Jo reconcile, but Lucas deserved his fate. Why should he surrender Lucas’s remains and allow the man to pass to heaven after what he did?
“You said he would decorate the arena. You did not say how long, and while I understand your desire to return Criella to life, you have no such intention with Lucas. Besides, if you succeed with Criella, then you undo the sin you hold against Lucas.”
She’d had time to choose her words for this argument on the drive over. She was right on all points, shattering any counter he might present and stabbing Luther to the quick. Still, Luther hesitated to grant her request. His hatred for Lucas had only grown since confirming the man’s treatment of Emily. However, something Jo said in her presentation stood out to him.
“Does that mean you’re willing to help me bring Criella back?” Luther asked.
Jo swallowed, but wouldn’t meet Luther’s eyes. “You weren’t the only person who loved her, you know. We were friends, and I would have been happy for her to join our union under better, more official circumstances.”
Luther nodded. He knew she had developed friendships, even relationships, in his absence. But he didn’t believe that Jo’s affection for her matched his own.
“I’ve given it a lot of consideration,” Jowangshin said. “And I will help on one condition.”
“And what is that?” Luther asked, suspicious. Jo had been adamant in her refusal to assist in necromancy. He had to assume this was a ploy to find Criella’s remains and burn them.
“If we can bring her back and heal her, restore her, then she is no longer dead, and it is not necromancy. It’s a miracle, and something to celebrate.” Jo said, explaining it as if it were a loophole she had discovered.
“Agreed,” Luther said, eager to find common ground.
“But if we can’t–” Jowangshin said, hesitating to make her point. “Then you must burn her remains and allow her to ascend. We cannot trap her as a spirit and deny her a place in heaven.”
Luther considered the reservation and calculated the odds. They were long, but no longer than the many he’d faced.
“So either we succeed, or we burn her remains,” Luther said, making sure he understood the deal.
“Yes,” Jo said.
“And what is your time limit for this?” Luther asked. “How long will you give me to succeed? A year?”
“A year,” Jo said, contemplating the duration. “That is a long time.”
“Trust me, it isn’t,” Luther said, realizing it would take at least a month to prepare for their expedition to the Dark Lord’s tomb.
“A year then,” Jo said. “Do you agree?”
“On one condition,” Luther said. “That Criella agrees. I will not burn her remains only to condemn her to hell. If she has any knowledge of her destination, then she should make the choice and take the risk. That shouldn’t be ours to decide for her.”
Jo narrowed her eyes, examining Luther’s features to determine if this was a ruse or a ploy. She conceded with a sigh. “Fine. So long as Criella agrees, we are agreed.”
Luther nodded, grinning at Jo. “I’m glad. I was afraid you would be angry with me forever.”
“For loving someone strongly enough to defy the gods?” Jo asked, as if the question were rhetorical. “I only wish my love was strong enough to do that. I wasn’t even brave enough to pursue Criella when she was—” she hesitated, stopping herself. Luther knew what she’d been about to say. Courting Criella would have damaged her prospects, and she had to put her career first. After all, their marriage had only been preferable because of Luther’s status and how it would raise hers in the temple.
“Well, you’re partway there. Give it time. Your love will only grow,” Luther said, not calling out her ambition. It was an admirable trait, if applied properly.
“Oh, it has. I love you more now than when I met you, and our wives,” Jo said. “Even Criella.”
Luther smiled. “Would you like to seal our arrangement with a kiss?”
Jo smiled, then shook her head. “Perhaps after you’ve bathed and washed the stink of the battlefield from you. I can smell you from here.” She waved her hand under her nose, fanning the odor away.
Luther laughed. “Some women prefer a manly scent.”
“And as soon as you get one, I’ll prefer it,” Jo said, making both of them laugh.
Their laughter roused Eira and Rhosyn on either side of Luther, but he was glad for it. That she was speaking with him again was a good sign. That she was joking with him proved they were on the road to reconciliation.
Eira and Rhosyn resettled without opening their eyes. Jo returned her attention to the rolling countryside, letting them enjoy the rest of their passage in loving silence.
That was until they reached the gates of their manor. The servants had gathered in the courtyard, with a lookout at the gate to watch for the coaches. Cheers rose as soon as the coaches rolled into view, with Wyll waving to signal their victory. It was as if the household staff had won the battle themselves, celebrating their victory and their return.
Eira and Rhosyn woke, blinking in the daylight. Helena remained asleep, but even she stirred at the noise through the haze of alchemically induced slumber. They were home, and the household welcomed them with open arms.
Wulfric waited for them at the stairs and had the servants help them as soon as they opened the carriage. They brought a stretcher for Helena and ferried her to her chamber to sleep. Dahlia followed, staying close beside her patient.
Wulfric kept the staff at bay from besieging Luther and the others with questions, but Wyll hadn’t even dismounted from his driver’s seat before he started telling the story. Even the stable hands stood stock-still as they listened, much to the impatient horses’ dismay.
“I’ll have the baths prepared for you, my lord,” Wulfric said, eyeing him. “And I’ll see the servants scrub the carriages.”
“Draw enough hot water for Rhosyn and me as well,” Eira said. “We’ll join our husband in the baths.”
“Of course,” Wulfric bowed.
“I have some work to do, but I’ll need to bathe as well,” Jo said. “In a few hours.”
“I’ve also prepared the kitchen for a celebratory feast. Let me know what time you wish to dine.”
“Thank you, Wulfric,” Luther said, feeling more refreshed from everyone’s cheer than he had when he woke in the carriage. “Oh, and please see to the cataloguing of our property from the victory.”
“Yes, my lord,” Wulfric said. “Uh, do you have a, uh, preference, my lord, as to a new solicitor to oversee the transfer of property and deeds?”
Luther sighed. Grief dimmed the celebration, but it passed quickly. Hope had replaced grief in his heart, and there was much to do. “I trust your discernment,” Luther said. “Though I might recommend someone from her employers to ease the transfer.”
“Of course,” Wulfric bowed. “Now, sir, if you’ll proceed to your apartment?” He stepped aside, wrinkling his nose as he did so.
“I do not smell–” Luther was about to protest, but caught a whiff of himself and decided not even he could defend such a staggering falsehood.
Eira and Rhosyn each took a hand and led him into the foyer and up the stairs. Their ascent followed Helena’s stretcher, but she and Dahlia went into her private rooms while Eira and Rhosyn led Luther into the shared chambers.
They disrobed in the main chamber, setting aside their armor and weapons, most of which would need tending to before long. It was strange to think that he had servants to do such work for him now. He preferred to clean his own weapons and repair his own armor. Leaving it all aside for the servants to gather and clean felt condescending, but Eira and Rhosyn gave him no choice.
Their naked bodies were enticing enough to lure him into the baths, but they pulled him along, anyway. He let them. Their slender forms with their narrow limbs and long necks were graceful, but they lacked the physical strength necessary to force him to do anything. Their breasts, however, brought him into the tiled room. They made him laugh when they filled the buckets and dumped them over him to rinse the blood and dirt from his hair and skin.
Eira and Rhosyn shared a look and moved in unison, each taking a brush and a bar of soap to their buckets and refilling them as Luther stood between them. The twins’ synchronous movements no longer seemed eerie to him as they approached with their brushes raised.
“May we wash you, husband?” Eira asked, already knowing the answer without using her arcanum.
“Of course,” Luther said, spreading his arms as if to embrace them.
Eira and Rhosyn scrubbed him with wet suds and brushes. They started at his chest, then worked their way down and around as they each took a side and met again behind him. The process removed layers of dirt, sweat, and blood.
He reached for a brush to return the favor, but Eira shook her head and scrubbed herself, as did Rhosyn. Then they rinsed each other, and Luther with the buckets. Watching them bathe was like watching a ballet, every graceful movement precise and intentional. Sloshing water and giggling laughter became their music. They seemed adept at using the suds to hide and reveal themselves, making each movement as tantalizing as the last and making Luther wet his lips in anticipation.
Their smooth, pale skin had some imperfections, leftover nicks and bruises from the battle that would fade with time. Each mark became a tempered bond between them. A shared memory of a hardship they’d endured together and survived. The thrill of victory and survival had yet to fade from Luther’s heart. Their vengeance was complete, and it felt amazing, as if a burden had lifted from their spirits.
Whatever disagreements they may have had, they no longer stood in the way of their connection to one another. His wives’ forgiveness might not be an instant change, but it was growing, as was his love for them. He hoped that, with time, they would have an even stronger relationship than before.
Finally, they rinsed, and Luther wondered if they intended to tease him with their performance, or if they were going to do more than show off their bodies before dinner. The peak of each breast was a delight, and he wanted to run his tongue over each of the four nipples before him. As it was, the warm water and cool air played havoc, causing each one to stiffen and stand out against the areola surrounding it.
“Sit,” Eira ordered as she brought the stool and set it behind him.
Luther sat on the tall stool.
Eira moved beside him, washing his face, neck, and hair as she circled to stand behind him.
Rhosyn, meanwhile, sank to her knees. She pressed her palms flat against the inside of his legs and pushed, spreading his thighs so she could kneel between his legs. Her descent was slow and careful, her pale blue-gray eyes holding his gaze. “I wanted to thank you properly for saving my life during the battle.”
“No thanks are necessary,” Luther assured her. “It’s what we do for each other as spouses.”
Rhosyn smiled. “And this is how we show our gratitude, as spouses,” Rhosyn said, sliding her hand along his thigh until it came to rest around his cock.
It had grown since they entered the baths, and he was stiff and ready by the time she seized it. Rhosyn closed her eyes and nuzzled her face against it.
“You were a sight to behold on the battlefield,” Eira said, running her fingers through Luther’s hair and scratching his scalp with her fingernails in gentle strokes. “I feel as if I’m floating, unable to touch the ground after having our first, real victory.”
Luther’s vision blurred from pleasure, and he released every breath in his lungs at once through his nostrils, relaxing as he seldom had before. The last time he’d felt this good, it ended with someone putting a knife to his throat. He glanced down, but no such blade appeared. There was only Rhosyn, looking up at him with her wet black-as-night hair splayed around her and his legs as she stroked his cock.
He supposed this was their first proper fight. He forgot that, despite the others’ training, they’d been unmarried when he met them. Rhosyn and Eira, especially, were less experienced with combat than Jo and Helena.
“You did so well,” Luther said, cupping Rhosyn’s cheek in his left hand and reaching behind him to hold on to Eira. “I forgot it was your first battle.”
“Next time, I won’t let anyone catch me out in the open like that. I’ll be more aggressive with my spells,” Rhosyn said.
“They were charmed and protected from you, I take it?” Luther asked.
Rhosyn frowned. “Is that why I couldn’t get into their minds?”
Luther chuckled. “We’ll have to discover which of their charms and rings held that enchantment. It’ll be useful if we ever face a psychomancer ourselves.”
Eira moved to Luther’s side and grasped his hand on her leg, sliding it up her thigh until his hand cupped her. She pressed her fingers over his, rubbing herself with his digits until he began moving them on his own. The slick moisture there was more than he’d expected, but perhaps they were as aroused as he was. Eira moaned, a lustful, wanting noise low in her throat.
Rhosyn hummed from between his thighs, watching them together. She moved her eyes to his cock and kissed the underside of it with a firm press of her soft lips. Her fingers reached between her legs, rubbing herself as she kissed and licked his cock in alternating motions.
Luther slid his other hand to the stool beneath him, gripping it for support. The surrounding steam kept their skin slick and wet, though the temperature remained comfortable. He wondered whether Livinia had helped design these baths and what enchantments might be on them to make them so heavenly.
Their rest was far from restful, but Luther wouldn’t stop them for the world, and he’d kill the first person to knock on their door if they interrupted them. No one did. The only sounds that reached his ears were the soft, heavenly gasps of pleasure from Eira, and the long, humming moans of Rhosyn.
Rhosyn parted her lips and took him into her mouth, sucking on the tip and letting her tongue play against him. His grip on Eira tightened, and she gave a soft squeak as she moved onto her toes.
“May I ride you, Luther?” Eira asked, looking down at the back of Rhosyn’s head as she covered Luther’s crotch.
Luther shook his head. “Wait,” he said. “I don’t trust this stool as much as you do.”
Eira chuckled, and Rhosyn pulled away, licking her lips as Luther stood and shifted. He laid on the warm tile and looked up at the ceiling to see Eira and Rhosyn standing over him, mirror images. One on his left, the other on his right.
“Now you may ride me,” he told Eira. “And you,” he gestured to Rhosyn. “Come sit here.” He pointed to his face.
The girls chuckled, with Eira sitting first. She straddled his hips and lowered herself against him, facing away so she could lean forward and place her hands on his thighs for balance. He slid inside her tight, slick channel with minimal effort. The warmth and pleasure of her body drew a moan of bliss from his lips, muffled as Rhosyn lowered herself against his face, back to back with Eira.
Looking up, with his head lifted from the floor, he watched Rhosyn writhe above him in response to his tongue sliding between her. He kissed, sucked, nibbled, and played with her. Eira set the pace for her part, riding him in slow, rhythmic strokes. Their lovemaking became a steady climb to the peak of pleasure.
Luther wrapped his fingers over Rhosyn’s thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her from below. Rhosyn gasped and fell forward, catching herself with her hands on the tile above Luther’s head. Her body hung over him, and he penetrated her with his tongue, letting his lip massage her clit with gentle kisses.
Rhosyn shuddered, and Luther grinned. He closed his eyes and took a peaceful stroll along the pool of their magic. Their reservoir of power was refilling, slow but steady, as their connection replenished their bond and their strength. He couldn’t decide between Rhosyn and Eira, but Rhosyn decided for him.
She came with a sudden tightening of her legs against him, and he used his grip on her thighs to keep her legs apart so he could breathe. Rhosyn clasped her fingers over herself, blocking him from further access as she came, overwhelmed by the exploding pleasures inside her. She slumped forward and rolled off him, staying close and leaving her hand on her chest as she panted and recovered her breath.
That left Eira, still riding him in steady motions of bliss that she seemed to have no desire to end. Every rise and fall of her body against his re-sheathed him inside her, and she moaned her pleasure into the steam that surrounded them.
Luther lifted his hips, meeting her as she fell, and she trembled at the sudden shift. She rose as he pulled away, and fell as he slammed upward. He found her spirit at the edge of the stream and adjusted to match her lust, even as he matched her slow and steady rhythm.
He mingled his spirit with hers, and the world became pure electricity. Every nerve spasmed in pleasure, exploding and flinging stars into his vision as he erupted into her clenching, spasming walls. Not only were they connected on that spiritual level with the rush of pleasure, but cumming at the same time as each other. Their pleasure rebounded where their bodies joined and became one.
Eira fell forward, but Rhosyn caught her, not letting her face-plant against the tile as she convulsed.
Luther hadn’t realized it, but they were screaming. His throat burned as he drew his spirit into himself, and Eira slid off him, curling beside him as Rhosyn lowered her to the floor.
“Are you two alright?” Rhosyn asked, checking Eira more than Luther.
“We’re fine,” Luther said, panting. “I used my magic as if I were going to access her arcana. It’s pleasurable when I do it without the sex, so with the sex, it just makes everything explode.”
“Oh,” Rhosyn said, confused but relieved as she sagged against the floor on Luther’s opposite side. She cuddled against him, resting her head on Luther’s chest above his heart. Eira did the same from his other side, barely responsive as she mumbled an agreement.
“I want that next time,” Rhosyn said, chuckling. “Not that you’re not good without it, but you seem to have broken her.”
Luther chuckled. “As you wish. We should finish this bath, though, before my stomach devours itself.”
Rhosyn chuckled and stood. She padded away, and Luther closed his eyes, listening to her return. She stopped at his feet, and Luther opened his eyes in time to shut them tight against the bucket of warm water she dumped over him and Eira. Rhosyn giggled as she ran away while Luther and Eira sat up, sputtering as they wiped their faces.
“I’m going to kill her,” Eira said, coughing.
“She’ll pay for it later,” Luther said, laughing as he wiped his face free of the droplets. He had to take another rinse to wash the soap out of his hair, as did Eira. They bathed quickly and dried each other off so they could dress and join the others for dinner.