Page 37 of Loched in Love

She folds her arms over her chest and squints down at it, her hair tucked behind her wee ears.

“Come here. I’ll need a bit more water to show you,” I grumble. “With it being broken, it’ll shatter if I try to take it out without it.”

“What?” she asks, but follows me into the tiny bathroom.

I turn to where she stands before the basin of the sink, liking how the small space forces her hip to push into mine. “Do you see it’s fashioned into a key?” I ask her, handing the container to her.

She takes it gently and peers at the glass. “Yeah, but it looks like it’s broken.”

“It is. Watch.” I take it back from her to open the lid and turn on the faucet. Using my power, I remove the magicked key from the jar and form a large sphere of water in the same breath to float above the marble sink and encase the key. I then will the trident to expand partially, bringing the bronze weapon out to show her how one prong is demolished—completely missing from it.

“She broke it with her magic, and unfortunately most of my power is tied to it. I was given it when I was a young lad, and there’s no other way to get inside my home without it. So you see, I’m stranded, and my magic will only get weaker now that I’m not in my monster form until I get it fixed. I’ve no choice but to try to get her to repair it.”

The air suddenly feels too scarce to breathe in the cramped space when her expression turns unreadable. I want to tell her I need her, that I’m bloody terrified of going alone, but I’m trapped in silence because this woman, my mate, has only known me for a matter of days.

“Okay.”

I shrink the trident back down into the jar, unperturbed when it fashions itself back into the key Odette created so long ago, and turn the faucet off before putting the lid back onto it carefully.

I glance at the woman at my side, and panic rises in my sternum. Just this morning, I shied away and hid in this very bathroom for fear she’d run screaming in terror at the sight of me, and now here I am, practically begging her to come with me, on a journey she didn’t choose.

“Lachlan?” she says, sending a knot to lodge in my throat.

“Yes?”

“How’d my shower gel get into the shower?” she asks.

My skin is lobster red watching as she grabs her body wash from the shower, eyeing it suspiciously.

“I—”

She whirls around, and scans me over. Her gaze starts on my hair that I know is tied back at my nape, and down over my chest it goes until it lands on my groin and her expression morphs.

Heat fills her gaze as she stares at me, and I fight to not fidget with the jar in my hands.

The accusation hangs between us, and I struggle to form the words to make amends.

But she leaves me no room to do so.

Rising up onto the tip of her toes, she leans in toward me and lodges her pert nose at my collarbone, as if trying to reach my neck and inhales.

The soft fleeting motion and rustle of air grazing my skin twists my insides into jagged points of need, and in that moment the room seems to fade into the background.

“You smell,” she finally murmurs, her voice dripping with yearning, “like me.”

She lifts her chin and presses her lips to mine.

In an instant, I brush my mouth to hers again delighted at her response when I hear a faint moan climb her throat. She kissed me.

Her tongue slides into my mouth and lust burns through my brain, as the kiss turns hard, then soft, then hard again. I eat at her mouth with my own, completely enthralled by just the feeling of her lips on my own.

My cock grows, straining to reach her, and sparks of light shimmer behind my gaze as she wedges so close I can feel the heat of her.

I move to press her more firmly against the sink, intent on filling my hands with nothing but her. A sharp shrill crack echoes, followed by the sound of tinkling glass that I feel impact the boots on my feet.

Bloody hell.

“Oh no,” she cries.