Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
This was not that. This was her choice. This was them, giving her exactly what she wanted.
Stone placed the leather strap between her teeth. “Good girl,” Stone murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Such a profound difference. No gagging. No straining. No tears. At least not yet.
She bit down gently, accepting this small protection they offered.
Her vision blurred as the full weight of the moment settled over her. This was her decision. Her declaration. Her permanent claim on them as much as theirs on her.
She met each of their gazes in turn—Stone’s deep emerald stare, Hunter’s fathomless, intense stare, Ash’s comforting ice-blue eyes.
Then they lowered her onto her belly. She shivered as the cool silk sheets pressed against her heated skin.
“Still okay?” Hunter asked and she nodded, keeping her bite tight around the strap.
Ash took her left hand. Hunter mirrored the position on her right, stretching her arms out wide as she turned her head to rest on her cheek. Their touch anchored her. Kept her present and grounded against the turbulent emotions erupting inside.
“We’ve got you.” Hunter’s thumb traced circles in her palm. “We won’t let go.”
“Breathe,” Stone instructed. “Deep and steady. In through your nose, out through your mouth, around the leather.”
She heard the click of the heating element and smelled the metallic tang of hot iron mingling with the candle smoke. Her heart hammered, but not from fear. Her anticipation was for the transformation. She was claiming her life back, becoming the woman she was meant to be.
“Last chance,” Stone said softly. “You can still—”
She squeezed Ash and Hunter’s hands, shaking her head firmly. The leather muffled her words, but the intent was clear.
“She’s good,” Ash said, speaking for her. “Do it.”
The first touch of heat made her whole body tense despite the anesthetic. Not quite pain, but pressure and warmth that went deeper than skin. She bit down harder on the leather, her pained groan intensified to a scream and their grip on her hands tightened.
One second. Three. Six. The pain mounted until her toes curled and her feet kicked. She sobbed into the leather, in agony, but also from the overwhelming perfection of it.
And then the pressure was gone, but the burn remained.
Stone worked with surgeon’s precision, treating the area with whatever salve he applied next.
“You still good?” Ash asked, but breathing was all she could manage, so he brushed a finger along her temple where a tear had slid. “It’s done.”
The scent of burning skin should have horrified her, but in her mind, that was the smell of commitment. This was the wedding they could never have, the promises written in flesh that nothing but death could dissolve.
They removed the strap from her mouth and gently helped her sit up. Stone brought her a glass of water which she gratefully sipped. They hovered at her side, watching her cautiously, as if waiting for her to condemn them.
When the glass was empty, she handed it off to Ash and asked, “How does it look?”
“Perfect,” Hunter growled, his thumb stroking over her cheek to wipe away a tear. “So fucking perfect.”
She smiled, glad to see he’d come around. “See, I knew you’d like it.”
“How could I not?” He gently kissed her eyes and whispered, “It’s only the sight of your pain that rips me to pieces, but your bravery…that’s a sight to behold, Lisichka.”
The pain would fade, but the mark would remain forever. Evidence of her choice. Proof of their claim. A testament to something that transcended ownership—mutual possession, complete and irreversible.
They’d given her what the Whitmore and her family had tried to steal—agency, choice, and the power to make her own decisions.
“Fuck. Look at that. Look at her.” Stone’s voice was heavy with reverence. His hands were infinitely gentle as he dressed the wound, applying more of the cooling salve to the brand.
“Wait, I want to see.”
Ash carried a mirror closer, angling it toward the one hanging on the closest wall. Outside the gilded ballroom, snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in pristine white that spoke of new beginnings and clean slates. But inside, Marigold had never felt warmer.
“Can you see?” Ash tipped the mirror.
Her lips parted at the distinct outline of a bear. “It’s just like yours.”
“Ours,” Hunter said roughly, voice thick with emotion.
Her gaze found theirs in the mirror. “Moi tri medvedya,” she whispered. My three bears.
Three sets of eyes shimmered with moisture.
Three dangerous men brought to tears by her surrender.
They were now etched into her skin. Permanently linked by beautiful scars.
As they held her, careful of the fresh brand, she felt the truth of their love settle into her bones. She was theirs. And they were hers. Together forever. Just right.
And they lived happily—and wickedly—ever after…
* * *
THE END