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Silence fell across us, soft and comforting as a blanket.
“If you were me,” I finally said, rustling that stillness, “what would you do?”
It took him a moment to answer, and I appreciated that he was actually considering the question. “I’m a shifter. I’d take freedom, always.”
I exhaled, closed my eyes, felt well and trulyseen. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For being you. And for letting me... be.”
His strong arms were a wall against the world. “If you can’t be who you are—if we can’t be who we are—what’s the point?”
“I don’t disagree,” I said, especially since he was the only one who knew the truth about me. The only one around whom I could lay down my armor.
He tipped up my chin, kissed me with a tenderness that surprised me. I curled my fingers into his hair and tugged him closer, felt the answering thud of his heart.
My heart became a drum, my blood a symphony of need. We hadn’t had sex yet, and were again dancing on the precipice. We’d done plenty of flirting and a delicious amount of making out, but with supernatural drama nearly always intervening, we hadn’t yet had the time or space to be physically vulnerable.
I nipped at his bottom lip, and his fingers drew lines up my back, pressing my body against his. I could feel Connor’s own need, the tension of hard muscle as he wrestled desire against control.
And then he growled, and I heard regret in it. He pulled back.
I looked up at him. “What?”
“Not yet,” he managed. “Not tonight. You’re still wounded, and sex with shifters is usually... adventurous.”
That didn’t slow the racing of my heart. “I could use that kind of adventure.”
Connor’s smile was wide and satisfied. “And you’ll get it. But for our first time, I don’t want there to be pain. Only joy, only me and you. Not the AAM, not fear.” He traced a fingertip across my lips. “Just us,Lis.”
SEVEN
I slept poorly. Dreamed of being chained in old iron shackles, being led toward gallows where a vampire with a gleaming stake of oiled aspen waited to strike.
I didn’t know what to do, what I could do. There was no precedent to follow, no procedures to take comfort in. Unless, of course, I swore fealty to a House or a band of Rogues. Swore an immortality’s worth of service to a Master. Which wasn’t, as far as I was concerned, an option.
I got dressed, returned to my room, eventually heard the shower running again. That meant Lulu had made it home either last night or this morning. And I was sure she’d tell me if Mateo’s skills as an artist extended into... other areas.
Without a better idea, I decided to start with something uncomfortable. I should have done it yesterday, but there hadn’t been time between vampires and shifters and dawn.
Ronan answered quickly. “Elisa. We just heard. Are you all right?”
I had to take a moment, because there was actual concern in his voice. I hadn’t expected that from the man I assumed had ratted me out to the AAM.
“I’m—fine,” I decided on. “You saw the video?”
“We did. You weren’t injured?”
“Not seriously. Is everything okay there? Is Carlie okay?”
“She’s fine. Do you think they’d harm her?” His voice had tightened, become deeper, as he donned the cloak of protector of his coven.
“I don’t think so. They see her as a victim”—and undoubtedly she was, even if that’s not all she was—“not a rule breaker. But it’s possible they’d get in touch, or maybe visit. I don’t know. Ronan—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I didn’t tell them. I can hear the question in your voice, and I didn’t tell them. I can’t say that I’d have done what you did. But I wasn’t there, and you had to make a decision. And Carlie is... special.”
I was relieved to hear his honesty and to know that Carlie was appreciated.
