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I come around the desk to look out at the city, relishing the freedom I find there. Vance joins me, his glass of whiskey in hand, and I look up at him.
“Vance,” I say, stepping closer, the distance between us shrinking until I can see the flecks of silver in his tan skin. “You need to call Caius now. Oberon…he’ll fight to keep me, if he wakes up and gets out.”
“Gets out?” Vance asks with a cocked eyebrow.
“I tied him up with our t-shirts and bedsheets,” I say with a soft laugh.
“Resourceful.”
“Cruel,” I correct. “I can’t keep being cruel to them. Not anymore.”
He reaches out, and his hand encircles my wrist with a firmness that anchors me. For seconds that stretch into eternity, Vance and I exist in a silence thick with unspoken understanding. The weight of history presses down on us, a shared burden now lighter for its division.
“Alright,” Vance concedes, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll make the call.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out. “It’s what has to be done.”
I look up at him, waiting for him to put his drink down and grab his phone…but he doesn’t. Instead, he steps closer, the air between us crackling with a raw energy. He’s a towering presence, a force shaped by years of ruling this fractured city. But right now, he’s just a man grappling with the magnitude of a choice made for love, not power.
“Getting Gunnar back…it means more than you know.” His words are a low rumble, vibrating through the space that separates us.
“Family is worth fighting for,” I say, close enough that I could taste him.
And then I do.
In a heartbeat, the distance evaporates as Vance’s lips find mine. It’s an impulsive act, born from emotion rather than calculation—a rarity for a man who lives by strategy. His kiss is a thank you, a promise, a balm over wounds both old and new. It’s gratitude etched in the fervor of his touch, and for a fleeting moment, the world falls away.
We break apart, breathless, and I catch the sheen of unshed tears in his bright blue eyes. His thumb brushes against my cheek, a whisper of contact that speaks volumes.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“For falling in love with my brother’s girl,” he says. “Guess it makes sense, given what happened with our fathers, but…”
I shake my head, gripping the back of his neck, the desire nearly overwhelming. We’ve had a connection since the first time I laid eyes on him, and now I’m leaving and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again…
“It’s the perfume,” I say. “The eros.”
“No,” he says. “It’s you, Aisling…it’s all you.”
Vance’s words linger in the charged air between us, heavy with unsaid truths and unspoken desires. I feel the weight of his confession settle on my shoulders, mingling with the ache of leaving behind all that I’ve known. His touch, warm against my skin, speaks volumes of a connection deeper than mere physical attraction.
As I gaze into his bright blue eyes, swirling with emotions too complex to decipher, a sense of longing grips my chest. The brush of his thumb against my cheek sends shivers down my spine, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume all rational thought.
In that fleeting moment of intimacy, our hearts beat as one in silent harmony, two souls bound by fate and circumstance. Vance’s apology hangs in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the forbidden nature of our burgeoning feelings.
But as I stand there, enveloped in his scent and the heat of his presence, I realize that some connections are too powerful to sever. Despite the impending separation…I’ll carry these men with me.
Gunnar, Oberon.
Even Vance.
“There’s no time to waste,” I whisper. “We need to bring him home.”
And that’s what we do.
Chapter twenty-four
