Page 14

My heart pounds, and sweat trickles down my spine. I tighten my arms around myself. “Valen will be fine. He’s powerful.”

“More powerful than his father?”

For the love of the nonexistent arachnid gods, why does Lucas have to be like this tonight? Why can’t he just see it my way and drop it until a later date when I’m not so twisted up inside? I’ve made such logical arguments that he should just accept so we can move on, but he’s so damn insistent on poking holes in them.

My lip trembles, and I try to step away, but Lucas follows me. My eyes burn and I shake my head. I’m so tired of crying. I’m so tired of feeling. And this wave he’s triggered, the fear that hit me when he wasn’t there, the intruder in my home.

I hate this. All of this. It should’ve been a night of mind-numbing sex with no more horrors or complications to deal with. Now my brain is practically vibrating from the overwhelming shock of it all.

What I wouldn’t give to have Valen here if it didn’t mean him possibly murdering me. But there is no way he won’t think I’m responsible for his father’s death. I need to know if it was me and face the terrifying truth of what that means for my sanity… and how long I have left before I wake up to Lucas’ dead body in my bed with his blood coating my hands.

Cold shivers down me, and I clutch my blood-crusted robe. Lucas is right; we can’t do this on our own, and not just because of the complicated mess. I need Valen. His cold, calculating observation could cut to the root of my corruption. He could help me figure out if there’s still a chance to save me while focusing this storm within my mind. I need him to take control of the situation so that I can have a moment of rest.

But Valen isn’t here. He left me. He chose the Order over me again. Perhaps he is safer there… but what if he’s really in danger, and I never see him again? Oh fuck, my eyes are burning, my heart aching. I wasn’t ever supposed to feel this way again, and yet here I am. Ruined by Valentin Bauer the Sixth and worried sick for him.

I swallow and try to stomp down all this noise within my mind.

Lucas gently touches my jaw and tilts my head up. The sincerity of his warm eyes, the glistening emotion, are my undoing when he says softly, “Talk to me, Tor.”

A pain within my chest builds, a wound that I don’t want to look at. But I let it rise until it blooms to a fully realized thought, my voice a soft whisper when I confess, “I thought you were dead, Lucas. I was all alone with an intruder in the shop and I can’t… I can’t talk about this anymore. I’m just so tired.”

He nods, stroking me softly. “I’m so sorry, Tor. You needed me tonight, and I wasn’t there.”

The tears spill as his words slice me deep to the core of this festering wound. “I was so scared.”

“I would’ve been, too.”

“I’m tired of fighting. I’m just… tired.”

“Then let’s stop. Nothing else needs to be handled tonight. Come on, let me take you to bed.”

He’s so damn kind to me even when I don’t deserve it. It breaks this tension in me and floods out to leave behind one last aching pressure that I give in to.

I draw him into a kiss, my heart pulsing in aching slow beats. I stroke his stubble, our lips brushing, and three words push against the back of my throat until I nearly whisper them. Instead, I say, “You. Me. Together.”

“Always.”

He smiles, and it’s like the sun has risen. I love him. I love him so much. I wish I wasn’t so broken; I wish this was a good time to tell him. It would mean everything to him if I finally admitted it aloud, but no matter how hard I try, the words catch in my throat.

But Lucas doesn’t care. He bends and slides his arms behind my shoulders and under my knees to scoop me into his strong hold. I lean into him and permit him to bear the weight of me. He carries me from the basement, through the stacks, to the base of my loft’s stairs.

I weakly reach for the disastrous mess from the tilted stack that threatens to take all the rows down with it. “We should fix it.”

“Tomorrow’s problem.” Lucas’ boots thud on the iron as he ascends.

I grumble. “You know the books are going to start making nests if they think they can get away with it.”

Already there’s shredded paper and what appears to be stolen knickknacks from around the store. One of my pocket watches glints from a papery bundle, and I flip off the wild grimoires in hopes they can see it from wherever they’re hiding.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow. I promise.”

My loft door secures behind us, and Lucas presses a palm flat against the iron-strengthened wood. His threads branch out along the interior of my home to weave a thick netting of protection, wrapping around my own wards to strengthen them until the small space glows with a soft golden hue. The terror that gripped me since seeing the shadowy man at the base of my stairs lifts. Finally, I am safe. My heart clenches with deep affection for this man who loves me deeply, who knows me better than I know myself.

Lucas draws me a bath, and I moan when I sink in, my head tilting back so all the blood floats away to stain the hot water dark red. My eyes close, Lucas rinsing me until the water runs clear, and I wrap my arms around him when he picks me out of the tub. The water dripping down my naked body soaks his clothes, and I’m transfixed by his white shirt clinging to his skin.

My feet touch the ground, but I don’t release his shoulders when he turns to grab a fresh towel. Our eyes meet, and my fingers trail down to catch on the first button of his shirt. It slips free, and Lucas’ gaze darkens. One by one, I release the buttons until I can drag the fabric over his shoulders and down his arms. My fingers dance along each of his muscles, fascinated when they twitch. Then I grip his belt, meeting his gaze when it whips free, and I finally push his khakis to the ground, my knees touching the floor.

I gaze up at him. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep…” I lick up his shaft in a tease, basking in the sound of his moan as I stand back up.