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It was high praise, coming from Cain, and Eden knew it. She gravely thanked him.
He offered her the stainless-steel switchblade. “I believe this belongs to you.”
Her swallow was audible. Then she lifted her chin. “It does, yeah,” she said, and took it from him.
With a curt nod at the rest of us, Cain left, and I carried Eden back to my bedroom, where I placed her on the bed, her back against the pillows to wait for Olivia. Eden was still clutching the switchblade. With a glance at me, she slid it under the pillow.
“It’s yours,” I said. “You earned it.”
“And I’m going to learn how to use it,” she said. “I never want to be that helpless again.”
“Fine by me,” I said.
When Olivia arrived, she confirmed that Eden had pulled a muscle in her side but was otherwise fine. “I won’t hook her back up to the IV,” she added. “As long as she’s drinking all right and able to urinate, she’s good.”
She handed Eden a glass of orange juice and ordered her drink it. “You’re not to move a step today,” she told Eden in a no-nonsense voice, “unless it’s to go to the bathroom. And this time, I’ll be right here, making sure you follow orders.”
“Thank you,” I told Olivia. I lifted a brow at Eden. “But you will follow orders, won’t you, angel?”
She brought her fingers to her temple in a salute. “Yes, sir.”
Olivia suppressed a grin. “I’ll stay anyway.”
Dawn was less than an hour away. Cain had reported that Smythe appeared to be working alone. The castle would stay on alert, but for now we were fairly sure there wasn’t another traitor in our midst.
I tossed down a shot of blood-whiskey, then closed the door to the living room, where Olivia was reading a magazine, and got undressed, climbing into bed with Eden and pulling her against my naked body. She yawned and snuggled deeper into me.
My chest contracted. I tightened my grip on her, my fingers spread over her belly.
Mine.
The almost savage sense of possession was tinged with vulnerability. I should wait, romance Eden like she deserved with hot-house flowers and Moon Mist and over-the-top jewelry. I wanted to adore her and fuck her senseless—and then ask her to be my mate.
But to Hades with that. Eden was mine. The romance could come later. If she needed it, I’d romance her every night for the next decade.
Right now, though, I was claiming her.
I teased her earlobe with my tongue. “You’re my mate,” I told her, the words tumbling from that hungry, possessive, vulnerable place.
Her cheek lifted in a grin. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Both.” Beneath my fingers on her belly, a tiny elbow or knee pushed back. Our son apparently approved.
“Don’t I have to accept?”
I growled and bit down on her lobe. “Don’t make me punish you. I can be all kinds of creative.”
She shivered in that way I loved, then giggled. “Okay, okay. I accept.”
And damned if I didn’t feel a punch in my chest. At the same time, Eden arched against me, a throaty moan tumbling from her.
“Holy shit, Talon.”
“I feel it, too,” I said hoarsely. “I didn’t know it would be so…physical.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed hard. “Like we’re connected now.” She took the hand I had resting on her abdomen and brought it to her lips. “I love you. So much.”
The words branded themselves on my heart, digging hooks in so deep I’d always be connected to her.
