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“Oh. In that case.” William tried to reclaim the bandages.
Galen batted his hand away, growling, “Mine.”
Snickering, the warrior ruffled his hair. “Look at you. So possessive of your Band-Aids. Reminds me of young William, when I was just a lad in my mid-hundreds. Keep this up, and you’ll be one of us in no time.”
Chapter Fourteen
A gaggle of voices drifted from somewhere down the hall. Had everyone returned?
Anticipation vibrated in Legion’s bones. She stopped stroking her array of bracelets and rushed out of her bedroom. Down the hall. Down a winding staircase. Only a few hours had passed, but her worry had only grown stronger. And dang it, she’d missed Galen more than she would have missed a limb.
The voices increased in volume, so she knew she was on the right track. Mid-way, she ran into Olivia, Aeron’s wife.
Olivia had a fall of dark, curly hair, the perfect contrast for her pale, pale skin. To this day, despite everything she’d witnessed with the Lords and everything she’d endured in her quest to save Aeron from demon assassins, her sky-blue eyes watched the world with innocence and optimism, two things Legion had never possessed.
As a Sent One, Olivia had first been a Messenger, who was later promoted to a Warrior, a (supposedly) mad, bad, savage killing machine whose only mission was the slaughter of demons. But because Olivia had developed feelings for Aeron, she’d chosen to fall from grace instead of kill him, leaving her home and family to be with him.
At one time, Legion had despised her for it. I thought I wanted Aeron all to myself. Boy, had she been wrong. She’d never really desired him, had she? Not sexually, at least. She’d hero-worshiped him, the first man to ever show her kindness. She’d craved his affection, not his touch. She’d yearned for his attention, not his body. With Galen, she wanted everything, nothing held back.
Never had she been more grateful for the sweet and generous Olivia, who was everything the tormented Aeron had needed. Just as sarcastic, edgy Galen was everything Legion needed. He was ruthless, relentless, and driven, qualities that had kept her from losing herself to the past.
“Legion!” Olivia grinned, and they embraced. “Sorry, sorry. I mean Honey. I’m so happy to see you.”
“I’m so happy to see you, too. And I’m good with either name. Truly!” Inside, she knew who she was, no if, ands, or buts. She was Leila, plain and simple. But that particular nickname was reserved for the man who’d gifted her with it. Him and him alone.
“Things are going well with Galen, then?” Olivia asked, no judgment or censure in her tone.
“Oh, yes.” Legion beamed. “He can’t get enough of me.”
“Who can? You are a treasure.” Olivia kissed her forehead. “And I’m glad you’ve found your person. Your happiness is our happiness.”
Overcome by a wave of affection, she gave the Sent One another hug. “Thank you. For everything. You are a wonderful woman. Now come on. Let’s go greet our men.”
Together, they jolted back into motion, picking up the pace to soar through an open doorway, entering the war room.
Aeron, William, Gwen, and Keeley cuddled together, whispering. It was a heated exchange. Torin, Sabin, Paris, and Sienna were cleaning their weapons to store in a large, metal armory, discussing Cronus. Apparently he hadn’t attended the battle royale.
Every single one of her friends was splattered with blood. Where was—
There! Her heart careened out of sync. Galen was shirtless—her favorite look on him, well, besides from his total nakedness look—with several bandages wrapped around his torso. His leather pants were ripped, revealing bandages on one of his thighs, as well. He wore more blood than the others.
Seeing him wounded and bloody…white-hot rage crashed over her, crushing any hint of fear. Cronus had hurt her man. The bastard’s final mistake.
I’m going to kill him. He’s going to die screaming.
Her nails lengthened and sharpened, converting to claws. The rage continued to heat, soon boiling, burning away the fears she’d carried for far too long. Old instincts surged anew, reigniting the viciousness that had served her well when she’d tormented souls.
Someone could hurt her? She dared them to try.
She might die badly? Better to go down swinging.
Galen had gotten hurt in a fight that should have been hers. Never again.
But she knew wars were not always won on a battlefield. Sometimes they were won in the mind. Before she made a move, she had to prepare the best plan of action. Namely, go by herself or recruit a team? If she invited one Lord, they would all insist on coming. As a group of testosterone-fueled cavemen, they had trouble with stealth, preferring a full-on tactical assault.
Cronus will rue the day he sought me out.
When Galen’s gaze locked with hers, awareness crackled between them. Rage morphed into potent desire. She would handle Cronus—soon. Right now, she wanted to handle Galen, all of Galen, and celebrate his survival.
“Oh, my.” Olivia fanned her face. “That look is hot enough to singe off my eyebrows.”
“Leila,” he rasped.
Without a beat of hesitation, she ran and jumped into his open arms. He hugged her close and spun, even enfolding her in the safety and softness of his wings while their lips crashed together in a fevered kiss. Desire electrified her nerve endings.
She distantly noted that other conversations had ceased. Or maybe they’d simply faded from her cognizance. Who cared? Galen’s ambrosial taste intoxicated her, making her head swim and her body ache.
“Yeah, baby!” Keeley cheered, and there was nothing faded about it. Her voice boomed as if she’d used a megaphone. “Take it off and get it on!”
“Don’t you dare make out with my daughter in front of me,” Aeron grated.
Daughter. Yes. The title fit, like a perfect puzzle piece clicking into place. And in the name of daughterhood, Legion lifted her head, smiled at her adopted father, and proudly flipped him off.
Every female in the room burst into laughter. Some of the men laughed, too. Best of all, Aeron’s tension evaporated.
“Galen is mine, and I’m keeping him,” she announced. “You don’t have to like him, but you will respect my choice. Actually, no. You do have to like him.”
Galen’s chest puffed up, though he tried to hide it. “I want you, Leila. I want to claim you now and always,” he told her—loudly. “Say yes.”
“Yes!” Pleasure tingled in her nerve endings. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
“Have her back by ten,” Aeron grumbled, “or I’ll ground you both.”
“Do you mean you’ll grind Galen’s face into powder?” Keeley asked. “Or that you’ll cut off his wings, grounding him like a plane?”
Aeron nodded. “Yes. T
o both.”
“You all suck.” Galen carried Legion out of the room, kissed her once, twice, his tongue teaching hers a wicked duel. “You are the exception, as usual. You rushed into the room, eager to greet your man after battle. Walking wasn’t fast enough.”
“Well, I missed you,” she admitted.
“You were concerned for my well-being, needed my arms around you as much as I needed to put them there.”
“Never let me go.” A plea straight from her heart.
“Never,” he echoed. “Let me apologize in advance for bleeding on you.”
His injuries! She gasped, horrified, and tried to wiggle down, but he only clasped her tighter. “Put me down so I can doctor you.” She should have tended his injuries first thing then jumped his bones.
“I would rather die than set you down.”
Frustrating, wonderful man! “If you continue to refuse, I might be the one to finish you off.”
“Worth it,” he said, and bent his head to nip at her lower lip.
“That is both romantic and foolhardy, Galen.”
“Then we’ve hit the sweet spot in my wheelhouse, Leila.”
Though she fought her amusement, the corners of her mouth curled up. “Listen, lover boy.” She let the nickname linger in the air, then nodded. Yeah, it worked. “I need your energy and stamina to be on point today. You and me? We’re gonna have sex, and you’re gonna like it.” Words she’d said to him once before. This time, they meant so much more. He meant more.
“I will love it.” All coiled need and sizzling desperation, he intoned, “I will have you, all of you, and you will have every inch of me. With us, energy and stamina will never be a problem.”
After entering her—their—bedroom, he kicked the door shut without missing a beat, then stalked to their private bathroom, where he eased her onto the counter.
