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“It appears as though that is true—”
The door to the break room opened, and in its jambs, Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, stood without apology.
“You were right,” she murmured as she got to her feet. “They have come for me. It is as if you can see into the future.”
“Not really. Which is why I’ll be watching you.”
Rahvyn glanced at the angel. He was not looking at her, focused instead on the colorful disks of covered chocolate in his palm. She wasn’t fooled.
Somehow, he knew what she had done… at that castle back in the Old Country. To that Princeps, and all his guards. Other unholy acts for a righteous reason.
“Rahvyn?” Vishous said. “You want to see your—”
“He is not mine,” she cut in.
But if he would have me? she thought to herself as she weeded in and out of the chairs and tables. She would be more than willing to belong to him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
And there she was.
As Rahvyn came into the recovery room, Lassiter felt a flush go through his body, and while the brothers and Adrian silenced their chatter, it was like they disappeared—and took the rest of the universe with them.
She was so hesitant, although whether that was because she wasn’t sure of her reception or because there were so many warriors crammed into the shoebox-sized room, he didn’t know. At least there was an easy solution to the latter.
“Leave us,” he commanded as he pushed himself up higher on the hospital bed.
There wasn’t a lot of discussion, and thank God. His energy was low and what he had was for Rahvyn.
As the door eased shut behind the peanut gallery, he motioned with his hand. “Can you come here? You’re very far away.”
She seemed to float over to him, although she was walking—yes, her feet were on the floor. When she stopped at the base of the bed, he motioned for her to get even closer.
All he got was one more step forward.
Her hair gleamed in the dull fluorescent ceiling lights, the platinum fall split over her shoulders. She seemed pale, her lips blending into her face, and her eyes stayed lowered from his own.
“Are you leaving tonight—”
“I’m glad you’re here—”
They both fell silent. For a split second, he was back in the cave, resolved to rot out there on the mountain, caught in the limbo between annihilation and existence. But now Eddie and Adrian had showed up, and he’d figured out Devina’s angle.
So the question posed by the Clash was answered.
He did not want to go. Not now.
His purpose was this female. Maybe it always had been and he’d just been too terrified by that, especially after the shit with the demon.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I know I’ve been walking away from you. My reasons were what they were, but now…”
“You are not leaving?”
Not if he could help it. “No, I’m not.”
“What has changed,” she whispered.
He thought of the big reasons he had been determined to keep away from her: The danger of Devina. His shame over what he had let happen to his body. His sense that Rahvyn needed someone less complicated. If he was honest with himself, he knew he would not be able to overcome any of the deficits alone, much less as a trio. But now he had a motivation that gave him… permission? Maybe that was the word. To get the fuck over himself.
He would be with Rahvyn, in spite of his unworthiness. Because he had to.
If he had his true love, Devina would not have hers—and that would keep her and Lash apart and the demon busy. And if the bitch decided to come after him to try to split him and Rahvyn up? Then he was going to take care of business while the Brotherhood took care of Rahvyn.
How fucking ironic that duty was getting him what he ultimately wanted. Which was this female.
Aware Rahvyn was waiting for a response, he didn’t know what to say. The last thing she needed was to get tangled in the ugliness, and he was going to have to protect her on a lot of levels.
“Thank you for your help tonight,” he hedged.
Her long exhale told him his dodge disappointed her. “I’m sorry I followed you.”
“I’m sorry I put you in a position of having to.” He smiled a little. “Look at us, apologizing left and right.”
“Are you well?” She motioned over her head. “Your injury was quite severe.”
Lassiter banged on his skull with a fist. “Right as rain—”
She put her hands out. “Do not hurt yourself further!”
“You know, you might have a point.” He rubbed the spot as his head pounded a little. “Seriously, though. I’m okay.”
Rahvyn finally came all the way up to him. And when he reached out his palm, she hesitated—but then took what he offered in a firm grip.
