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Because clearly, that’s what I was about to do.
I walk into the bedroom and collect Sparky’s leash, attaching it to his collar and sliding silently from the room, locking the door behind me, and then walking to the edge of the walkway to a patch of grass.
I keep my hand near my hip, ready to snatch my gun at a moment’s notice, and my hunter’s eyes search the night as Sparky walks in small circles, finding the best place to pee.
“What the hell am I going to do, boy?” I whisper.
He tilts his head up at me.
“I want her, that’s the damn truth,” I go on. “But falling for a woman, goddamn, it wasn’t part of the plan. And when I kiss her, fucking hell, Spark, I just know I’m going to have to claim her—claim her for life. What then? Do I really think she’s gonna feel the same, this woman I just met? Maybe I’m going crazy, eh?”
Sparky does his business and then pads over to me, leaping onto his hind legs and pawing at my knees. I lean down and scoop him up, letting him lick my chin and then rest his head against my chest.
“I know, boy,” I say quietly, moving my hand over his ears. “You’re not used to me being so indecisive, are you? I guess I should be more worried about Andrei and his Bratva goons. But you wanna know the fucked up thing, boy? Part of me is glad that fate is forcing me to spend more time with Dakota. I can’t leave her now, can I? I can’t let anything happen to her.”
I carry Sparky back to the room and lock the door behind me, lying on the bed and letting him climb atop me and curl up, snoring softly.
I rarely dream, as though my mind knows better than to stray to the locked corners of my consciousness.
But this evening – this morning – this in-between space finds me sitting atop a throne of glorious gold with floating angels dancing around me, their voices pitched low and soothing and majestic as their music cures everything, cures me.
I find myself glowing from the inside, as I listen to their voices getting sweeter and sweeter.
Then something scrapes down my face and I groan, sitting up to find Sparky perched on my chest, his paws on my face. I blink, giving him a stroke and rubbing sleep from my eyes.
I listen, head tilted.
The singing is still there even more magical and beautiful now than it was in the dream.
I stand up and walk toward the door to Dakota’s room, pressing my ear against the wood and listening to her voice, wavering and dancing in the air.
“There was a songbird,” she sings. “And its name was truth. There was a swan song, and baby, baby, this one’s for you … A songbird, a songbird, and yet inside my soul—baby, a songbird, a songbird, but your heart is still black as coal.”
“Beautiful,” I growl.
“Huh?” Dakota says, far closer to the door than I judged.
My appreciation for her singing has messed with my hunter’s instincts for distance.
“Beautiful,” I say, louder.
I grab the door and push it open, not bothering to ask this time.
Falling to sleep last night, regrets hounded me.
I should have grabbed her.
I should have kissed her.
I’ve been overthinking this whole damn thing and soon it’ll be time to rectify that. Dakota’s a fully-grown woman and babying her is just damn stupid.
When I tell her she’s mine, I’ll let her make her own decision.
But she will fucking know.
Soon.
She’s standing there in her servant’s uniform still, a sexy tangy smell drifting off of her, human and appealing. I find myself wishing she’d stay like this for a week, getting tangier and sweeter, so I can run my tongue all over her curvy body and taste the welcome juiciness of her flesh, like a beast lapping a mate to solidify their intimacy.
Her hair is tied up, pulled back to show the round cuteness of her face.
“You heard that?” she says. “Thin walls, I guess.”
“It was beautiful,” I growl.
She flinches, tilting her head. “I … You’re a puzzle, Damian. Do you know that?”
“How’s that?” I growl.
“Just—you are, that’s all. What’s the plan?”
“Oh, pretty simple,” I say, smirking. “Outrun some international criminals. Fight off an army. Escape with our lives intact.”
“Okay, clever man,” she giggles. “But I mean what’s the plan for today?”
“We’re driving to Ohio. I’ve got a little country safe house there. It’s the only place I can think of where we can hole up and deal with this madness.”
“Can we …” She pauses. “Deal with this, I mean?”
Never lie to her. She’s going to be the mother of your children.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking her straight in the eye. “But I promise I’ll die before I let anything happen to you.”
