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The silence was unnerving.
Elijah propped himself up on an arm and looked at me.
“Do you really care?” he chuckled.
I grinned and shook my head. “No. I’m just not used to the quiet.”
He stroked my face lovingly. “Well, get used to it. The rest of your days are going to be a hell of a lot more calm now that I’m back.”
My heart skipped, and I studied his face.
“What about your life in Seven Rock?” I asked. “Are you just going to leave that behind?”
His kiss melted away the last of my tension, sinking me further into the mattress.
“I have lots of ideas for expansion,” he said with a wink. “But none of them are on the agenda for tonight.”
“No?” I asked slyly. “What is on the agenda for tonight?”
He pulled the covers away to reveal his cock, rock hard and ready to go again.
“A matter only you can attend to, my love.”
Epilogue
ELIJAH
Abby grimaced as more people entered through the open door of the penthouse. She raised a strawberry blonde eyebrow at me. I hadn’t expected this much of a turnout when I’d put out the word, but I was pleasantly surprised by the response, even if Abby wasn’t happy to see her freshly washed floors being demolished by filthy shifter feet.
“I promise we’ll find a better meeting place,” I told her, reading her protest before she could speak her mind aloud. “This won’t happen again for a while, at least.”
She offered me a sidelong look and laughed.
“It’s a good thing, I suppose,” she said, voicing my earlier thoughts. “Who knew so many wanted to branch out of Pario City?”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“I think a lot of them are looking for their lost relatives,” I said, nodding at the startling number of females who had shown up for the posting.
A look of remorse crossed her face, but she didn’t say what she was thinking.
Undoing the mess that Orson and Etta had left in their wake was a daunting and sickening task. Etta had not kept good records about the bartered women, and tracking them down was proving to be a difficult task.
Abby kissed my cheek reassuringly.
“I’ll see about those nibbles,” she murmured, heading into the kitchen, weaving through the throng of pack members lining up at the dining room table.
“Are we getting started?” Maisie asked impatiently. “I didn’t think that I could get claustrophobia in this monstrosity, but here I am.”
She shivered, and I chuckled, gazing around the penthouse suite of the Sandstone. Since purchasing the hotel three months earlier, Abby and I had moved into the top floor for ourselves. It was a good spot to keep a proverbial eye on the city below.
It turned out that Abby much preferred it to that white picket fence she’d once craved all those years ago.
“I’d rather be high up,” she explained when I offered to buy her a little, simple house. “It feels safer somehow.”
In the interim, it was easy to host the trafficked women in the Sandstone when we found them, reuniting them with their families when possible or setting them up otherwise when their families were the ones responsible for their predicament.
“Okay, everyone!” I called out, ready to get the meeting in order. “Quiet down, please.”
