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Chapter 2
Piper
Istood in the library, balancing precariously on the top of a ladder as I dusted the top shelf. I sang a random pop song under my breath not paying much mind to my surroundings.
I didn’t know how long I’d been dusting but there was something soothing about it. Something simple. It was nice to have something so void of complexity and supernatural politics. Unlike the usual craziness of my life. Here, I could just be.
“You really shouldn’t be up there in your condition.”
I yipped and clutched the sides of the bookshelf, the ladder beneath me wobbling at my sudden movement. A hand settled on my lower back, steading me.
Once my heart stopped racing, I glared down at Antoine. “Did you really have to do that? There are better ways to announce your presence, you know.”
Antoine hovered behind me as I cautiously made my way down the ladder.
Landing in front of him, I smacked a hand on the front of his grey three-piece suit. Which even in a dream was perfectly pristine and in place.
“Stop hovering. I’m not going to fall and break my neck in a dream.”
Antoine inclined his head, his silvery white hair falling over his shoulder, his lips thinning. “Forgive me if my inability to protect you in real life has made me more than a little overprotective in our dream meetings.”
I sighed and cupped the side of his pale face with my hand, peering into those pale blue eyes. “I know. I hate this too.”
Antoine placed his hand over mine tugging me toward him. His other arm wrapped around my waist pressing me against the front of him. “You underestimate the reaction of the others. Hate is simply too weak of a word for how they are reacting. Marcus is practically biting at the bit, wanting to throw all caution to the wind and storm the castle doors so to speak.” He narrowed his gaze on me. “And he is the least of my concerns.”
I grimaced. Out of all seven of the Durand men, Marcus was the most stoic of them. For him to be pushing back at Antoine's orders, the others must really be losing their shit.
Fuck. Rayne.
The youngest and moodiest of the Durand with good reason, would be feeling not only his own distress about my captivity but everyone else’s in the house. I hoped they were trying their best to keep their thoughts to themselves around him.
“Do not worry,” Antoine murmured into my hair, holding me close to him. “You are far more precious to us than our own pride. The others will do their best to keep their own emotions in check.”
I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes up to Antoine's face. “I’m not worried about you killing each other. I’m worried about you getting killed trying to get to me.” I blew out a hard breath and pushed away from Antoine, wrapping my arms around my middle. “We don’t know why exactly the council decided they were better at keeping me ‘safe’ than you guys would be. We don't even know what the end goal is. Not to forget that Vincent wants information from us about the council. Information I can’t provide.”
Antoine wrapped his fingers around my arm and led me out of the bookshelves and over to a couch that held more than one delicious memory. Instead of letting me sit on my own, Antoine pulled me into his lap so that his arms were on my thighs and his hand could rest on my swelling belly.
His fingers circled my navel as he spoke. “Vincent is aware of the situation.”
I startled in his lap. “You told him I’m pregnant? You don’t know what he will do with that information. We don’t know what kind of abilities our child will have. You know that he will try to use it to turn it into one of his hunters. I can’t believe you would tell him without consulting me first!” My voice went higher in pitch with each word.
Antoine stared at me without saying a word until I was done. Then gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you quite done?”
I scowled. “No. But go on.”
“First of all, do not presume I have done anything that might put you, our child, or our family in danger. I am utterly disappointed you would even think of such a thing.” He released my chin abruptly, his hand going to his tie, loosening it. “Secondly, Vincent does not know about your condition and will not learn about it from any of us. We will manage Vincent. You must handle the council and the precious cargo you are carrying. Give me your hands.”
My hands automatically shot out before me of their own volition. Antoine wrapped the length of his tie around my hands pulling them tight enough that I couldn’t escape but not so much that it bit into my hands.
“What do you think you are doing?” I stared down at my hands and then back up to Antoine, cocking a brow.
Antoine checked the knot before grabbing a hold of the loose ends and tugging me off of his lap and onto the couch. He spun me around so my back hit the couch cushions and I gasped. The skirt of my dress fell up my thighs, exposing a good portion of leg to him.
“You seem to have forgotten who the master is and who is the servant in this scenario.” Antoine leaned over me, holding my hands above my head with one hand, his hair falling into a curtain around us.
I snorted. “When did you ever think I agreed to you being my master.”
He rolled his hips against the junction between my thighs and a toe-curling friction found itself dancing across my moistened folds.
