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As I follow him to the bathroom, I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs. He’s already started the shower, and he’s waiting for me with a smirk.
“What?” I ask him sweetly as I lift my nightgown and toss it aside. “Do you think you’ve won?”
His eyes don’t leave my breasts, which is answer enough. Within two minutes of me joining him beneath the hot spray and stroking his cock, he’s got me pressed against the shower wall, giving me exactly what I need.
By the time he finishes inside me, he’s made me come twice, and I can’t hide my smug smile as I start to wash him.
“I always win.”
“Or I always let you think that,” he muses.
I shrug because, regardless, I win either way.
Going about my business, I wash him like I do every day. When my fingers brush over the healing scar above his collarbone, I get lost in a familiar sea of emotions. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of how close I came to losing him, and with that comes a fresh wave of anger. I know it will take time, and at some point, there will come a day when Caleb’s marks on us will have faded so much he will never taint our memories again. But for now, we live with them, taking solace in the fact that he can never harm us or anyone else again.
“Hey.” Azrael tips my chin up. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I know.” I smile at him through watery eyes.
A beat passes, and as he’s learned to do well, Azrael senses exactly what else is plaguing my mind.
“You know she’s going to be okay, too, right?” he asks.
Raven. He’s talking about Raven.
“I hope so.”
I let the words settle between us, but the truth is, I don’t know. None of us know what really happened to her the day the Disciples took her. She hasn’t wanted to talk about it, and we haven’t pushed her, allowing her to process it in her own time. But I recognize the haunted darkness in her eyes. She’s closed herself off, shutting all of us out, including Emmanuel.
She’s numb, dissociated, and I don’t know how else to help her. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d give Emmanuel my blessing to chase after my sister, but after watching him pace the halls night after night, concern for her gnawing away at his sanity, it’s become evident that he truly cares about her well-being. The fact that she’s shutting him out right now has left him in agony too.
“We can go see her this afternoon,” Azrael suggests.
“I’d like that.” I nod.
We step out of the shower, and I can tell without checking the clock that it must be past ten. The cacophony of power tools and contractors has come to life on the opposite side of the house, the same as it does every day—another surprise Azrael is working on.
As tempting as it’s been to peek, I haven’t ventured into the dark wing yet. I want to see it as he intends it to be when the work there is finished.
He towels me off, and we slip on our robes, stopping short when we enter the bedroom again. Near the foot of the bed, Benedict is sprawled out on his cushy dog couch, Fiona curled up beside him with a smug little smile.
Azrael snorts. “So much for being enemies.”
“She’s being nice while he recuperates,” I tell him.
“Yes, that’s what she’s known for,” he replies dryly. “Being nice.”
“Says the man she sleeps beside every night.”
He pretends not to hear that, mumbling something about me getting dressed before we head to the closet and select our clothes for the day. I’m officially at the stage where I require comfortable outfits, which means I usually wear loose dresses or leggings and t-shirts.
Once I’m satisfied with my selection, Azrael leads me down the hall, pausing by Bec’s room. She’s playing music and video chatting with my sisters, something she’s been doing every day.
In the aftermath of Salomé’s death, Bec grieved the loss. Regardless of how terrible the woman was, she was still her grandmother, and I know she has mixed emotions about everything. But now, we’ve watched her as she’s started to blossom and come into her own, figuring out who she is under Azrael’s protective watch.
Both he and Emmanuel want her to have the life she deserves, and they are navigating the situation as best they can, trying to give her more freedom while also keeping her safe.
“I’m sure she’d love to visit with my family, too,” I tell him.
“I have a feeling we’ll be returning with a few more Wildbloods tonight,” he says wryly.
I wrinkle my nose at him. “You love it. We fill the house with joy.”
He laughs, taking my hand in his. “That you do.”
