Chapter Eleven
THE NIGHT was darker than usual because of the thunderclouds, and even though rain wasn’t coming down anymore, the sidewalks were wet from earlier. Rain on concrete had a smell all its own, not quite earthy, more like a graveyard scent of stone and decaying leaves.
I felt strange, unmoored… caught between a maybe and something solid.
I couldn’t get Varic’s choice out of my head.
He made a decision to leave, to walk out on his own, and yes, space was a good thing, a needed thing, but so soon after serious, forever words were spoken? I couldn’t reconcile it all in my mind—or in my heart.
I had gotten ahead of myself, wrapped up in something too new too fast. It was actually good he’d taken a time-out; I needed a moment to myself to breathe.
I stood at the river and looked out over the water, and when gentle drops became a deluge, I darted under an awning and huddled there with a few homeless guys.
Pulling what I had on me out of my back pocket, I offered them the fifteen dollars, got sincere thanks, and then moved on, walking toward Canal Street alongside the aquarium. There weren’t many people out in the rain, but when I crossed the street, some lingered in the doorways of clubs, cigar stores, and the ever-present New Orleans souvenir spots.
My phone rang as I walked toward Royal Street. I sat down on a bench outside a closed yogurt store, the rain now barely a mist, and checked the display. The caller ID read Unknown. I was suddenly exhausted, and it didn’t even matter.
“Hello?”
“Jason.” Varic said my name gruffly.
“Is Tiago all right?”
“Is Tiago all right?” I asked again, insistent, refusing to move beyond that question.
“Yes.”
I took a breath. “Oh thank God.”
“Jason, where—”
“What about Rhyton?”
He took a sharp breath. “Rhyton is no longer.”
That answered that, I didn’t need to know the details. “And Aziel?”
“Aziel is gone as well. It seems that Rhyton was poisoning his mind against me for quite some time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” he said softly. “I consider the dreki not just my personal guard, but part of my family as well. It hurts to know I was shortsighted.”
“At least you always have Tiago and Hadrian.”
“Yes. It’s a blessing,” he replied, tone wooden. “Now where are you?”
“Is Aziel out of my place?”
“He is. I asked Niko to arrange to have people there to dig the bullets out of your walls and clean up,” he explained tightly. “I’m so sorry that a past dalliance of mine has infringed on your life in such a way.”
“You mean you’re sorry one of your fuck buddies tried to kill me,” I fired at him, angry, the heat in my words obvious.
“Yes.” His reply was quiet, calm, gentle. Everything my words were not.
It struck me that I was being an ass. I blamed him because he’d left me alone and I was attacked. It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t right, and so I took a breath.
“Jason?”
I cleared my throat. “I have a question, if that’s all right.”
“Please. Ask.”
“What happens with the courtiers? How do they come to be at your father’s court?”
If he thought the inquiry strange, he didn’t voice it. “There are celebrations during the year, one a season, and there’s feasting and balls, and everyone is allowed onto the grounds of the castle to meet my father and me.”
“Not your mother?”
“She hasn’t attended in years.”
“Because of your father’s courtesans?”
“Yes, but could we talk about where—”
“You said I could ask a question, and this is still the same one,” I reminded him firmly. There were answers I wanted, and I refused to be shortchanged. I kept having to pick up pieces of information like bread crumbs in a forest, and instead of that, I wanted a full explanation all at one time.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“I want to know how it all works. What happens after they come to one of the parties at the castle? I’m just trying to get an idea of why you don’t just date people. Why courtiers and not just one guy after another after another?”
“Why not a serial dater?”
“Yes.”
“Because there’s a tradition,” he informed me, sighing, being patient with my query. “Back when my father was a prince, all the men and women of a certain age would be presented at court. If any one of them caught the eye of him, or his father, or any member of the nobility, then that individual would be asked if they wanted to remain at court, and if so, then the court took over the entirety of their care.”
“Food, clothes, everything?”
“Yes.”
“And while they were a courtier, what was expected?”
“Basically what you’re thinking,” he told me, his voice gaining a slight edge as though he was ready to be done. “Courtiers are sex partners—unless you serve in my mother’s court—travel companions, basically entertainment for whomever they serve.”
“And what rights, if any, do they have?”
“There are contracts signed that protect both parties,” he said, brusque. “It’s like a prenuptial agreement where everything is spelled out. The individual they serve provides food and clothing and an allowance for whatever the courtier wants or needs.”
“What about if the courtier wants to leave, or you get bored?”
He huffed, a quick, sharp breath that told me he was done talking about the customs of his father’s court. “There is normally a generous cash settlement when the courtier leaves, and, upon occasion, property granted.”
“Have you had many courtiers?”
“Yes,” he answered flatly. “But never a courtesan, as I have no children.”
“Then a courtesan is a courtier who has children?”
“That’s correct.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Thank you for explaining,” I said honestly, because I’d needed to know. I wanted to try to understand Rhyton’s thinking, what had provoked him, but hearing how much of a nonromantic, almost business deal the whole courtier agreement was, I had no fresh insight into his motivation. “I thought if I understood how an individual became a courtier that it would help me figure something out about what happened.”
“It won’t,” he assured me with steel-hard certainty. I could hear the conviction in his voice. “None of what occurred makes any sense.”
“You never got that possessiveness from him before?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, I thought maybe courtiers were people who were groomed to marry—”
“No,” he said, clipping the word. “A courtier has no delusions of becoming a queen, a princess, or a consort. That’s never a station they can aspire to.”
“Why not?” I asked gently, because even though he was irritated, he was still talking to me, we were having a discussion, and I appreciated that fact. I was trying to understand, and he was taking the time to explain. It boded well for us, for our continued communication. “Can’t a prince fall in love with a courtier?” I sighed deeply, content just hearing his voice. “What if I had come to your court as a courtier?”
He didn’t answer; he just made a sound, a sumptuous, carnal, decadent sound like he was sitting in bed stroking himself, thinking of me. There was no chance of me stifling the answering moan he dragged out of my chest.
“Where are you?”
“Not far from my place,” I said, smiling into the phone. “I like hearing your voice.”
“I am quite fond of yours as well.”
“Tell me why you left,” I asked as I stood up and started walking home, wanting to hear the explanation but no longer hurt that he’d gone. Whatever was going on in his head felt as though it had more to do with him than me, because he wanted me, there was no doubt in my mind about that.
“I’m sorry I left,” he said, dark and low. “But in my defense, I’ve never felt like this, and I’ve been alive a very long time.”
I was walking, beaming like an idiot, probably looking stoned to the people I passed, blissed-out happy with him confessing he was as big a mess as I was.
“There I was, standing in your home, looking around at all your things, at your life, and all I wanted to do was have you pack it all up so it could be shipped home with me.”
I stayed quiet, listening, not wanting to do anything that might make him stop sharing what was in his heart.
“I don’t want you to have anything that isn’t shared with me. I don’t want you to have anything alone, and I realized how crazy that sounded in my head, and I could barely breathe.”
But he had kick-started my heart just fine.
“It was overwhelming,” he croaked, a catch in his voice, a hitch in his tone telling he was having trouble speaking. “I’ve never—I shouldn’t have left, but I felt like I was going to suffocate.”
“Wait,” I said, because that word, suffocate, gave me pause. “If I’m making you feel like you can’t breathe, then—”
“No,” he snapped. “It’s just that when I came to the city a few days ago, I had no idea that my life could change so thoroughly so very quickly.”
Neither did I. “It’s fast,” I said because it was true. Taking some time apart to think and work through what we were both feeling, without the lure of sex, was probably a really good idea.
“It certainly is,” he agreed, breaking into my thoughts as I heard the deep, contented sigh. “But in the very best way. No question about that.”
“You know,” I broached gently, passing by the Hotel Monteleone on Royal, headed for home, then stepping off the curb to let a family stay together before returning to the sidewalk, “maybe you had a good idea.”
“And what is that?”
“Space,” I murmured, not sure how I felt at the moment. I wasn’t sad, and I wasn’t worried about the two of us. It was important to process “us” in context of “we.” As in we as individuals. Like how did I fit into his life, how did he fit into mine?
“I don’t want to be apart! I want you to come back to the penthouse and sleep with me.”
I smiled. Varic was so passionate about his life, about me, about everything, and I found it exhilarating. “But you have business,” I prodded. “Remember?”
“I already spoke to Benny and Niko, and while I feel that Niko and I clearly spoke the same language, I think Benny has serious reservations about a truce between the classes.”
“I can’t say. I don’t think he likes me.”
“Perhaps he feels that your presence challenges the status quo,” Varic offered by way of explanation. “Before you showed up, I suspect that things had been going on a certain way here in the Quarter for quite a long time.”
“But I don’t think anybody wants to fight,” I said. It only made sense. “Why would anyone want things how they were? It wasn’t safe. What am I missing?”
“The fact that I want to see you,” he said flatly.
“No,” I said quickly. “Not about us, about—”
“I know,” he retorted, not angry but sharp. “But I don’t want to talk about the vampyrs of the Quarter… you are my primary—I just want to see you.”
“I do too, but is that the smart thing?” I needed time to think and get my head on straight, and I was fairly certain he did as well. “Maybe earlier, you needing to leave wasn’t just about you feeling smothered—”
“Suffocated,” he corrected me.
I chuckled at his wording, not at him. “Oh, that’s so much better.”
“Jason—”
“I’m not trying to think for you—I have no right—but what I am suggesting is that we could both do with time to process everything that’s happened.”
“We just had sex, Jason,” he quipped. “What’s there to have to delve deeply into?”
I stopped walking. It was like he’d reached through the phone and slapped me. Because yes, we’d had a lot of sex, but I’d never thought for a moment that was all it was, even in the moment, even if we consummated nothing. I couldn’t separate my heart from my body; it was how I was made.
“That’s not—you know that’s not what I—”
“I need time alone, then,” I croaked out, stressing the word, feeling gutted. “Just me. It’s how I am. Something happens, and I roll it around in my brain, so I’m gonna do that, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“It already is tomorrow.”
I could see on my phone it was after one. “Well, then, I’ll call you now that I have your number.”
He was quiet for a moment. “How did we go from talking to this?”
“We’re fine. Everything’s fine,” I said. It was true, even if I felt off-center at the moment. “Unless you’re not, and if so, tell me.”
“No,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “But please go home. Everyone is gone. Don’t walk the streets like a ghost, thinking I’m haunting your place, because I wouldn’t do that.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”
He didn’t call back after I hung up.
EVERYTHING WAS the same when I got home. In fact, it was a little cleaner, and someone had opened the windows to air the place out. Between the jasmine and the rain, I could feel myself settle and calm. After I took a long, cool shower, I felt even better, and as I stood on the tiny balcony off my bedroom, drinking a bottle of water, I lifted my face into the breeze and breathed.
The sound of footsteps in the gravel below me drew my attention, and Varic appeared on the other side of the small alley, looking up at me. He stood half-in and half-out of the shadows, and that combined with the curtain billowing beside me gave the whole scene a dreamlike quality that wasn’t lost on me, even though my first instinct was not that I was happy to see him.
“You specifically said you wouldn’t be here,” I said softly since it was after two in the morning, and I was outside and I had neighbors.
“I know,” he answered, moving closer so I could look straight down at him. “And now you think I’m not a man of my word.”
“Well, you are, in fact, not doing what you said,” I pointed out, not sure how I was feeling at the moment, because half of me was thrilled that he couldn’t leave me alone, and the other half did think I needed some time away from him, and he was infringing on that. I was torn right down the middle. “Why aren’t you back at the penthouse?”
“Because the idea of you being here and me being there when we could be together instead was driving me mad,” he confessed, hands in his pockets as he stared up at me. “Could I please come up and speak with you?”
My heart leapt at the suggestion, which basically informed my brain the time away from him I thought I needed was crap. What I wanted was to talk to him. “You can’t tell me one thing and do another,” I said, needing that clear between us. “If I explain that I need something and you agree to it, I better get it, or you really aren’t a man of your word.”
“I am, though,” he insisted. “I don’t threaten idly, and if I make a promise, I follow through. That’s simply not what happened in this instance.”
I tried not to smile, but he was very charming while trying to explain himself, and both of those things combined cracked open my resolve. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” he said gruffly, his smoky growl intoxicating to me. “Because I realized, after I told you that I wouldn’t be here, that following through on that action was completely illogical. Therefore, as you can see, I’ve corrected the error, and here I am.”
“And what was the error?”
“Letting you think that anything we’ve done together hasn’t been the highlight of my very long life.”
That annihilated me. He was absolutely all I wanted.
“Earlier, for a split second, I was momentarily overwhelmed, as I’ve already stated. But you can’t expect me to stay away from you now—that’s insane.”
Yes. Yes, it was.
“And I know what you must be thinking,” he insisted from directly under my small balcony. “But really, Jason, it’s the first mistake of millions. I’m not perfect, just really old.”
A laugh tore out of me. He said it so deadpan, without a trace of self-consciousness. Between his humor and his sincerity, I was putty in Varic’s hand. That was not to be forgotten. “Come up and talk to me,” I said, turning away, heading toward the front door to unlock it for him.
The movement behind me had me checking, and there he was, on the balcony where I’d been seconds before.
“Holy shit,” I said, awed.
His sinful grin, with the playfully arched eyebrow thrown in for good measure, made me sigh like the lovesick dork I was. “That’s a neat trick.”
“You liked that?” he teased as he brushed the curtain away and crossed into the room. “Did it make you hot?”
I nodded, my eyes glued to him as he took off his jacket and draped it over the large wingback chair close to my bed.
“You noticed I was quiet and didn’t wake your neighbors.”
“It was very considerate of you,” I said, putting the water bottle down on the nightstand. “So where’s Hadrian and the rest of your guards?” I’d been wondering about that since I first saw him. Had he snuck away, and if so, how much trouble was he in when they found out?
“At times, concessions must be made, as there are even greater concerns than my safety.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like you,” he whispered before he rushed over and cupped my cheek with one hand as he slipped the other over my hip. “I had a moment of trepidation because this—us—has never happened to me before,” he said flatly, staring into my eyes. “Thank you for not sending me away, because I honestly do want to talk to you.”
Easing from his hands, I walked around my bed, keeping it between us. “I think we need to talk about a lot of things.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, cleared his throat, and gestured at the bed. “But first, tell me, how many men have been in this bed?”
It was very telling, the way he clenched his jaw like he dreaded the number but resigned himself to it at the same time.
“None,” I answered, watching his face change as soon as he got the answer. His thick black brows lifted from the crease, his lips parted, followed by a fall of his shoulders. “I told you before we started that it has to mean something to me. I’ve had enough sex in my life. I’m in it for something more now.”
“As am I,” he said levelly, and without preamble, sat down on the bed, took off each of his leather lace-ups, and then began to stretch out.
“Comfortable?” I teased, enjoying the way he shifted his long, hard body out on my bed that had never looked better.
“In the bed, yes, with you… not yet,” he replied, arms crossed, reclined but not relaxed, instead looking as though he could spring right up off the mattress without a problem. “No one’s ever had power over me before, and I find it terrifying.”
“What power? What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to focus but really enjoying him in my room. He fit there, he belonged, and I had the urge to climb on top of him, to be close, needing it, craving it, but I remained still instead.
“I want you all the time, and no one’s ever held that draw for me. Always I could walk away and not look back.”
“So earlier when we were talking about you being in Malta and me here, you didn’t like the sound of that any more than I did.”
“No.”
“And the leaving and not looking back, you could even do that with the courtiers?”
“Especially with them,” he explained, and I could hear the contempt in his tone, his complete disregard. “They were at my beck and call, and I had the most beautiful of them travel with me and service me, but I never slept with them, I didn’t hold them. We weren’t mated.”
I nodded. Sleeping in someone’s arms could be even more intimate than sex.
“There was no bond,” he husked, and I understood these confessions were from his soul, not easy to express. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then act like you do and come here,” he ordered, his voice faltering on the last word.
I stayed where I was. I wanted to hear more, have him put us into a framework I could use.
“You see? That’s what I mean. You don’t have to do what I want, because I can’t make you and still have what I want,” he said, sounding wrung-out and miserable.
“And what is that?”
“Your free will.”
“Well, there should be no question in your head that I want you,” I confessed so he’d know he had me.
“But you see, I need you to want me, and that’s power that you have that I’ve given you, and it’s so foreign to me that when I kissed you and the hunger rose so fast…. I was blindsided by how changed I am in so little time.”
“It’s the same for me,” I said, easing down onto the bed, then crawling over to him.
The noises he made when I reached him—his sharp gasp, then an almost strangled sound of joy, and finally a deep, up-from-his-soul sigh when I climbed over him and straddled his hips—deeply satisfied me. He wanted to be exactly where he was, and since I wanted the same, we were in perfect alignment.
“I knew leaving was wrong the second I was out of the door. I felt it in my chest.”
They were simple words, but just hearing them—because they were exactly how I felt—soothed away the last of the hurt. It was strange when he left, like it didn’t fit my narrative, and hearing it was the same for him went a long way.
Curling over him, I kissed him deeply, taking what I’d wanted since he stepped into my bedroom with that wicked, hungry smile of his.
His groan was filthy as he clutched my thighs, holding on, not allowing me to move. When I broke the kiss to sit up, he hooked a hand around the back of my neck and eased me back down for another.
Needing to show him I wanted him just as badly as he seemed to want me, I kissed him breathless, and when I finally lifted my lips from his, he was panting.
“I want you to take for granted that I won’t ever leave you.”
I nodded quickly and pressed my forehead to his, and we breathed each other’s air.
“And for no other reason than I just don’t want to.”
I smiled before leaning sideways to kiss the side of his neck.
“I’m not too proud to acknowledge your power over me,” he whispered urgently. “I wouldn’t change it, even if I could.”
I kissed behind his ear and felt him jolt under me.
“You asked earlier what I would have done had you come to me as a courtier,” he husked, hands sliding up under my T-shirt to my skin. “I would have laid claim the moment I saw you and made you mine… just as you are now.”
I sat up, smiling down at him.
“Come back,” he grumbled, reaching for my face.
Varic was like a train running through me, annihilating in the best way—as well as the scariest. “I thought, if he leaves, that’s okay, I’ll be all right,” I admitted as he settled his hands back on my thighs, smoothing them up and down over my light cotton sleep shorts. “But I won’t be, and you need to know that so you don’t think you’re the only one having a nervous breakdown here, all right?”
He nodded, sliding his hands under the thin cotton material to my fuzzy legs. “I’m all settled back into my skin now,” he told me. “So shall I scare you now, or wait?”
I cleared my throat. “Scare me now.”
“You need to come here first,” he said, tugging gently on my T-shirt, trying to ease me down into his arms.
Letting myself be moved, I stretched out on top of him, my head under his chin. He sank his fingers into my hair and massaged my scalp.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he threatened even as the chill from his body combined with the warm breeze filling the room made me shiver. Apparently he had to feed to keep his body temperature the same as mine—it had returned to being several degrees cooler. “And don’t do that either.”
I smiled languidly, parting my lips against the smooth skin of his throat. “Any more orders?”
“Yes. Many,” he muttered, fisting his hand in my hair to tilt my head back. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he pulled something from his pocket instead. “But first I want you to have something.”
I didn’t need anything. I already had what I desired: Varic in my bed with me, cuddling, talking, closer now because we’d talked and cleared up any misconceptions between us.
“Look at this,” he directed.
I sat up, resting my hands on my knees, my legs tucked under me, before Varic passed me a small drawstring pouch. Inside was a red pendant set in gold, hanging from a hammered gold chain. As I held it in the light coming in from the window and slipped my fingertip over the stone, I could tell it was carved with some sort of design.
“This is beautiful,” I said, unable to take my eyes off it, feeling the weight and delicacy at the same time. “Let me turn on the light.”
Once I flipped the switch of the small lamp on my nightstand, I could see the wolf cut deeply into the stone. It wasn’t crude, instead finely done.
“It’s my seal,” he told me, and I could hear the pride in his voice. “The wolf of Maedoc.”
“I thought they called your dreki the wolves of the house of Maedoc.”
“They do,” he said. “And I lead them.”
“So you’re the alpha.”
“I am,” he assured me, sitting up beside me. “Now give it back.”
We jostled around, bumping each other, and then he draped the chain—surprisingly heavy for something so thin, over my head and let the pendant fall. It rested almost between my pectorals, under my collarbone.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” he breathed, and I could tell from how bright his smile was that he was very pleased.
I took the seal in hand and met his gaze. “Tell me what this means.”
“This was made for me. It’s mine, commissioned by my father for my consort, and you wearing it tells everyone who sees it that I belong to you.”
It was a surprise. “I thought I belonged to you.”
“You do. Between us, you’re mine,” he explained, his tone steady and low, somber and serious, and I understood he was making a pledge to me. “But this is my seal. The wolf represents me, and now I’m yours, if you accept me.”
What was said before, all my heartfelt confessions, all of his, coalesced into the vow I was making in this one moment. “I do,” I said. I slid my fingers over his jaw as I drew him close.
Keeping my hands to myself and not ravishing Varic at any time was going to be an ongoing battle. Because he tasted so good; he was strong and powerful under my hands, and our lips fit together like I’d been kissing him my whole life. And the most amazing part of all was the more I took, the more I licked and bit and sucked, the more he clutched at me—my arms, shoulders—so obviously wanting more and more, not for a moment less. He didn’t tell me I was too rough or too desperate or too intense. Instead he let out a hoarse moan when I pressed him down onto the bed. When I reached for his belt buckle, he broke the kiss and stared up at me.
“What?” I gasped, not wanting to stop, needing to reestablish the closeness from earlier.
“Listen,” he growled from the back of his throat. “You wear my seal; this is us now. Do you understand? It can’t be undone.”
“Yes,” I said, then recaptured his mouth as I went to work on his belt buckle, needing to claim his body now as I so obviously had claimed his soul.
He let me have my way, allowing the voracious hunger to build between us, and then stopped me, his hands gripping my thighs so tightly they would leave bruises.
“Look at me,” he directed, and I heard the thread of steel in his voice. Here was the prince used to having everyone jump at his every command.
I froze over him.
“This is what I want,” he said, shucking me forward, and my crease slid over the long line of his hardened shaft under his dress pants. “I want to take you home with me and present you at court to my parents and my extended family as my consort.”
I stopped breathing. He wanted everyone to know about me.
About him and me.
About us.
“I want us to stand up together and make vows.”
It was terrifying and stunningly romantic at the same time. He was moving at supersonic speed, but I found myself not caring.
I was in love with a vampyr.
No use tiptoeing around the inevitable, trying to convince myself I wasn’t falling hard.
Christ.
The facts were indisputable. I fell for him. Past tense. Over and done.
I had leaped without looking and never once checked for a net.
From the first time I saw him, when he didn’t know who I was, to last night when I decided denying him anything was just plain stupid… I hadn’t wanted to untangle myself. And now we had a lot to discuss and figure out, everything from geography to vows, but I certainly wasn’t going to let either of our momentary lapses in judgment derail us. That fast, just imagining my life without Varic in it, made my heart hurt. I’d never get over him, so it was time to start treating him like I’d already given him my heart, because it was an absolute fact.
“Yes, please,” I whispered. I was a bit overwhelmed and having trouble pushing air through my lungs, controlling the excited shivers running over my skin, and, of course, speaking. It was hard to talk around the lump in my throat. All of it, every bit, was Varic’s fault for telling me what he wanted. And no, we didn’t have the words—the three little ones that meant the world—but what we did have were plans, concrete intentions for the future.
“I want other things too,” he said, and his face relaxed, like perhaps his words were settling him as well because of their effect on me. I was so happy, I had to be glowing. “But for now, just know that you’re never getting rid of me.”
I nodded because my voice had not yet returned. I bent and kissed him deeply, letting him feel what I couldn’t say before I hugged him.
“You know not everyone’s lucky enough to have their destiny walk into a room, light it up, and show them what they’ve been missing,” he said, his voice bottoming out for a moment, clearly as affected as I was.
I couldn’t meet his gaze, instead looking down at my own chest. I took the seal in hand to study it.
“In the morning you’ll be able to see that it’s a carved carnelian. I wish it were a ruby or a diamond or—”
“No, it’s perfect,” I whispered, clutching it close.
“If you were a vampyr,” he said under his breath, “I wouldn’t push like this, but you’re not, so… I have to hurry. Every second counts, starting now.”
I met his eyes. “Because I ain’t gonna live as long you, am I right?”
It was meant to be teasing, but I realized as soon as I said it that, so fresh on the heels of making a commitment, my timing was crap.
He didn’t say anything, but he gently moved my leg so he could slide out from under me. Before he could stand, I grabbed the pillow he’d been lying on and smacked him on the side of the head. He was sad, and I wasn’t going to allow that to continue.
“You hit me!” Varic was indignant, mouth open, eyes wide, the expression of complete and utter astonishment on his face making me laugh.
“Close your mouth, honey, you look like a fish,” I baited him.
“How dare—”
I hit him again because any sentence that started like that deserved instant retribution.
He looked just as dumbfounded the second time. “I’m the prince of the noreia!” he advised, all up on his high horse. “Your life is forfeit to me for this grievous offense.”
“Oh yeah? Grievous?” I said sarcastically. “Well, before you have me flogged or something, just keep in mind that I don’t plan to die tomorrow, and that maybe my mutant gene will let me live a little longer than you’re thinking.”
His smile fell away as he nodded.
“Just come here and lie down beside me, all right? Because I missed you even for that small amount of time you were gone.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did.”
Varic grabbed me and had me back down on the bed with my head beside him on the pillow seconds later. The expression on his face—utterly stricken—made me lift my hand to touch his cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell if that’s good or bad from your expression.”
“It’s brand-new,” he sighed, clutching me tight, “and terrifying.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never been afraid of losing anyone or anything before,” he said as he pressed me closer, sliding his thigh between mine as we fit into place. “This is what being human must be like.”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Don’t tease me,” he rumbled, nuzzling my hair. “I’m fragile, you know.”
And I did know. His heart was a delicate thing because he’d never given it away before, and so it hadn’t hardened. If I let it go, if I dropped it, I had no doubt it would shatter into a million pieces. It was up to me to be very careful with its care. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
His sigh of contentment was so very good to hear.