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The air in the house feels different today. The cold, suffocating gloom that used to hang over the hallways feels warm. Somehow protective. The estate isn’t a prison holding me inside. It’s my home.
A few of Vesper’s demon staff glide by, shadow entities that remind me of ethereal ghosts. Several of them offer approving nods and subtle, quiet smiles. Despite their eerie appearance, I’ve grown used to their presence, grateful that this ancient manor no longer feels so cold and lonely.
Killian steps out of the conservatory holding a silver tray with fresh coffee, his amber eyes scanning us as we approach. He stops, leaning his hip against a marble pillar, a sly, knowing grin spreading across his handsome face.
“Morning, lovers,” Killian says smoothly. “Looks like some of us enjoyed their night.”
“You can say that,” I reply with a confident grin, taking a cup of black coffee from his tray. “Thanks for yesterday, Killian. Oakley hasn’t stopped texting me about how ‘charming and sexy’ my security detail is.”
Killian arches a single thick eyebrow, his grin widening with effortless arrogance. “Your friend is the stunning one, Bellamy. Like you. Tell him I might grace the town with my presence again soon.”
Vesper lets out a low, warning growl, though there is no real bite behind it. “Focus, Killian. What is the status with the wards?”
Killian’s expression changes slightly, his posture straightening. “Gregory’s hired men are moving faster than expected. They’ve set up camp along the boundary line. Gregory thinks he’s found a blind spot in the magic, but he’s just walking into our wards. Fucking idiot.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee, feeling the warm liquid hit my stomach. I look between Killian and Vesper, completely unbothered by the news. The old panic and paralyzing fear of Gregory’s name doesn’t show up.
I make my way over to Vesper and slide onto his lap. His arms instantly wrap around my waist, pulling me tight against his body before sensually kissing my bond mark. He’s like a feral animal marking his territory, not caring that Killian is right there watching.
I fucking love it.
“The other men don’t know what’s waiting for them, do they?” I ask softly, squirming in Vesper’s lap. I glance out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows toward the foggy canopy of the redwoods.
“No,” Killian says, a dark smirk touching his lips. “They think they’re dealing with a runaway lover and an unhinged politician. They don’t give a shit, as long as they get paid.”
Vesper chuckles, arms tightening around me. “They have no idea death waits for them just past the magical wards.” The Devil Dog detaches himself from the shadows, fire blue eyes glowing in agreement.
I turn to Vesper, holding his crimson gaze. I reach out, my fingers wrapping securely around his cold hand, letting the triad link hum warmly between us.
“Let them come,” I say, dark amusement lacing my voice. “Let Gregory think he’s won. This is my home now, Vesper. And we’re going to tear him and his friends into tiny, pathetic pieces.”
Vesper looks down at me, a dark, proud smile spreading across his pale blue face, his crimson eyes blazing with fierce devotion. “Fucking hell, little bird. I think I’ve created a monster.”
I smirk, leaning in close and whispering so only he can hear. “Is that why you’re so damn hard under me?”
Chapter eighteen
Vesper
The study is quiet, bathed in the paranormal glow of the stone hearth and the deep shadows stretching across the walls. Bellamy sits beside me at the desk, his shoulder resting lightly against mine as he studies the map of the estate’s lower gates. His green eyes are sharp. His posture relaxed. Confident. The quiet, steady warmth radiating through our link tells me everything I need to know.
My mate isn’t afraid. He’s ready.
A sudden, sharp pop of air shatters the quiet room as a wave of black vapor spills across the floor. Killian materializes right in front of the desk. He drops his human glamor for a fraction of a second, his amber eyes flaring like molten gold before stabilizing into his polished mortal form.
“They’re at the southern border of the estate,” Killian says, pushing a stray lock of golden hair from his forehead, his voice tight with dark excitement. “Gregory brought about half a dozen paid thugs with him. They’re carrying rifles, and two of them are holding tight leashes on a pair of miserable, starving tracking hounds.”
Bellamy tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “Only half a dozen? I thought he had more.”
A cold smile spreads across my face. “Let’s just say my magic has been slowly driving him insane. Most of his crew already deserted him. The ones who stayed are only sticking it out for the money.”
Bellamy grins. “Did Gregory find a way through the boundary?”
“He thinks he did,” Killian replies. “He’s clutching some ancient, rusted relic he probably bought off a black-market collector in town. Hell, it might even be from one of the demons secretly living here. The thing is humming with a sickly black glow, spewing raw, unstable magic at our outer stones.”
I lean back in my chair, my crimson eyes narrowing as I process the information. Through my deep connection to the woods, I can already feel the unnatural pulse of Gregory’s relic slamming against the outer perimeter. It’s a pathetic tool, but it carries enough punch to rattle the perimeter, warning me someone is here.
“Is it going to break the wards?” Bellamy asks.
