Chapter Thirty-Four
A kiss woke me the next morning. My eyes opened to a muscled male chest, and for a moment, still half asleep, I burrowed into it, drinking in his warm, spicy scent. Lach’s arm curled around me, drawing me closer, and instantly my blood heated along with my cheeks. He’d stayed the night, and while I wasn’t sure how to process that exactly, the closest feeling I could name was…pleased. We’d figure out the rest one day at a time.
“You snore,” he told me softly, tracing the tip of my nose with a long finger.
And the moment was over.
I propped myself up on my elbow and tried to haul a sheet over my body. “Careful. I might die from being over-romanced.”
“It’s cute.” He batted my hand away from the sheet. “Don’t. I was enjoying the view.”
I snorted and yanked it up anyway. “You’re shameless.”
A dozen shameless memories of last night flashed to mind, and I bit my lip.
“Proudly.” He twisted a strand of my hair around his index finger. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t wait any longer for breakfast.”
“Does that mean I have to get dressed?” I wasn’t quite ready to share him with the world.
He laughed, the sound oozing from him as slowly and sweetly as honey. “That won’t be necessary.”
He flipped me onto my back, shoving the sheet completely out of the way, and began a slow descent from my neck to my breasts, where he paused. Sunlight caught his face as he lifted it to me, illuminating a fleeting tattoo, and my breath hitched. Last night had been like a dream, but seeing his beautiful, brutal body hovering over mine in the daylight was a fucking fantasy. A low throb pulsed between my legs when his mouth curved up on one side.
“After last night, I’m famished.”
Oh.
He kissed my navel before circling it with his tongue.
Oh.
He urged my knees apart, and I let them fan open, earning me another cocky grin as he continued to lick and kiss his way down. My eyes shuttered when he reached the apex of my thighs, my breath catching in my throat. I stretched my arms overhead, reaching to grip the headboard to brace myself, and my hand brushed something hard and cold under the pillow.
I pulled out one of Lach’s guns and frowned at it.
He paused, his breath hot on my skin and his eyes on the gun. “No need to resort to violence. I’m not going to stop.”
I realized I was accidentally aiming it at him and dropped my hand to my side. “You slept with a gun under your pillow?”
He chuckled. “I always sleep with a gun under my pillow.”
I started to push the weapon toward the edge of the bed, but Lach planted his hand over mine to stop me. “You’re always safe with me.”
Before I could tell him I knew that, he urged my fingers more tightly around the pistol and rose to his knees. Something primitive gleamed in his green eyes. Lach yanked me closer, guiding one of my legs around his waist and lifting the other to his shoulder. He paused as the tip of his cock nudged against me. “You’re always in control, even when my cock is buried inside you.” I moaned as he slid in an inch, and his eyes narrowed on my mouth. “Especially when my cock is buried inside you.”
My grip tightened around the pistol, its cold steel anchoring me as he plunged into me. Lach drew out languidly, and I whimpered in protest. He murmured my name as he guided the leg braced at his shoulder to his waist, planting his hands on either side of me to angle himself impossibly deep. I groaned, hooking my ankles against his back as he fucked me with deliberate, measured restraint that underscored his claim.
I was in control. I was safe. Even when I let my guard down, even when I was vulnerable, even when it felt like my entire being was at the mercy of this man—because he would put himself at my mercy.
“No matter what you’ve gone through.” His voice strained as he thrust, rolling his hips until he hit a spot that sent arrows of fire shooting through me. “No matter where you’ve been.” He glanced at the gun I held and snarled, the sound bolting to my core. “From now on, no matter what, no one will touch you without permission, or they will answer for it. Even me.”
The promise cleaved me, breaking open a deep, hidden void even I had never found. My body arched as I reached for him, the gun forgotten in my desperation for him to fill it, to fill me. I coiled my arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”
His mouth crushed against mine as he bore down, driving faster and harder. The kiss shifted to something frenzied and urgent. I was drowning, and he was oxygen. My nails dug into his shoulders as I surrendered entirely to the desperate need propelling me, to our undeniable connection, to this man.
The world fell away around us. My limbs tightened, my hips rising to meet his thrusts as if I could compel him into my very soul. And when I unraveled, he followed me over the edge.
After we both caught our breath, Lach gathered me into his arms, drawing my body against his. We laid in silence, his lips pressed against my hair as I traced the strange language of his tattoos.
“What is this?” I asked, my finger following the four symbols that had settled on his breastbone.
“Theban,” he murmured. “One of our ancient tongues.”
I peeked up at him. “Do you actually speak it?”
“Not well. It survives mostly in writing.”
“And tattoos,” I said dryly. I pointed to the one on his chest. “Do they mean something, or do you just enjoy being in pain?”
A shadow moved across his face. “They write themselves. No needles necessary.”
I tilted my head to see him better. “Ciara doesn’t have any.”
“I know.” His lips brushed my forehead.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but he rolled on top of me.
“Now, about breakfast.” His grin made my heart skip.
The door to my bedroom rattled on its hinges, jolting us apart. “Are you in there?” Ciara’s muffled voice called. “I need you.”
So much for breakfast.
“Just a second!” I yelled.
I pushed him off me and scrambled out of the bed, looking for something to wear. My silk robe was on the floor.
“Tell her to come back later and get back in bed,” he said, watching me from where he lay with amused eyes.
I shushed him. “You need to leave.” I looked around. “Where are your clothes?”
He pushed up with a frown. “In my closet.”
“Go get them.”
He scowled, but he climbed out of the bed. I nearly forgot why I was kicking him out at the sight of his ass. I shook myself free of my daze. Ciara was in the hall, and he was naked. I threw the robe at him. “Put this on.”
Lach stared at me like I’d grown another head.
“Ciara is out there.”
“So?” He shrugged into the robe. It stopped several inches above his knees, the silk straining against his broad shoulders. He looked absolutely ridiculous, but at least he wasn’t naked.
“So!? Do you really want to be naked when she breaks down the door?” I grabbed a pair of random sweats from a drawer, nearly tumbling over as I tried to pull both legs on at once. “This isn’t…proper.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and I got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “I think we passed proper around midnight.”
But Ciara would see him and have questions, and I personally didn’t feel like following last night with an interrogation. I yanked a shirt over my head. “Just nip into your room or something.”
His amusement fizzled, his pressed lips setting into a hard line. “I’ve never done a nip of shame before.”
The door shook on its hinges again.
“Cate, are you alive?” Despite the door between us, I could hear Ciara’s annoyance.
Lach gestured to the door. “Just open it.”
I groaned, wishing Lach’s default setting wasn’t difficult. “Just nip!”
He opened his mouth to protest again, but I cut him off with an exasperated glare. He threw up his hands and vanished.
I gulped down a deep breath, raking my hands through my hair and hoping that I wasn’t a total wreck. Throwing open the door, I feigned a yawn. “What’s up?”
“Up?” she repeated, her brows jumping an inch. She peered over my shoulder. She was in satin pajamas, her hair piled in a messy knot on top of her head, and she still looked gorgeous. “Were you talking to someone?”
“Nope.” I stepped to the side and let her see my empty room. Her eyes narrowed on the bed as if the askew sheets were a clue.
She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “You disappeared last night.”
“I didn’t feel like a party.”
She studied my face, and I wished I’d had time to check the mirror to see what condition I was in after being up all night. But I must have passed muster because she scowled. “I tried calling you. I had to get Roark to let me in.”
“Sorry. My phone probably died.” In fact, I had no idea where it was.
“I can’t find Lach, either.” She glanced around my room again, like she knew he’d been here.
“Oh. Did you check his room?” I walked out of mine and headed toward his.
His door was wide open.
“I did. His door was unlocked, and he was nowhere to be found,” she said suspiciously, following after me. She grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the living room. “Come on. We can’t keep them waiting.”
“We? Them?” I repeated weakly.
In fact, three people were waiting for us in the living room. Roark and Shaw were lounging in the twin set of leather club chairs by the fireplace, both eyeing the other person in the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Sirius waited on the couch, and he looked relieved to see us. He pushed to his feet, and my heart stuttered when I saw the folder in his hands.
“She lives—for now,” Ciara announced ominously.
I ignored her, focused entirely on that folder. “What did you find?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Lach?” Shaw asked.
“This can’t wait,” I told him. Not if Sirius was holding what I thought he was.
But Shaw studied me. “Do you know where Lach is? We thought maybe you two took off together last night.”
“No clue.” This was true, since he wasn’t in his room.
He tilted his head. “We just figured if you…”
“Give it a rest,” Roark muttered.
Shaw rolled his eyes. “You just want to—”
“Would you just try again, Roark?” Ciara interrupted her brother.
He sighed, but he straightened a little, an intense concentration settling on his face.
“What is he doing?” I whispered to Ciara.
“Calling Lach. He’s been trying to reach him all morning.”
“Does he need a phone?” I asked slowly.
“He’s using the signet, but Lach must have taken his off…or he’s just ignoring him.” She rolled her eyes.
The signet ring connected them? Roark had admitted last night that he had been purposefully keeping us apart, but he hadn’t said how. I had no idea if Lach had been wearing his last night—or, for that matter, ten minutes ago. But he was definitely taking it off in the future.
Roark finally relaxed. “He’s on his way.”
“So, can you hear him?” I asked carefully.
A smirk played on his mouth. “Only if he wants me to.”
I was going to have to speak with Lach about that.
“But he was radio silent last night,” Roark said meaningfully, his gaze locking on mine.
The relief I felt was short-lived as Lach appeared in the living room, hair an artful mess from where my fingers had gripped it through the night, a smug smile on his perfect face, and still wearing my silk robe. He shrugged at my incredulous look.
Ciara blinked. “Where are your clothes?”
Shaw hitched a thumb toward the fireplace. “Over here with Cate’s dress—or what’s left of it.”
Ciara crossed her arms, brows raised, a slow grin splitting her lips.
Embarrassment stained my cheeks as they all looked between us. “I plead the fifth.”
“Sorry, princess.” Lach winked as he strolled over. “They probably smelled me on you anyway.”
And he’d gone there.
I sighed and covered my face with my hands.
“I told you they would bang before Samhain,” Shaw said, grinning.
“Shaw!” Ciara hissed. “We all knew that.”
I glared at her, but she only laughed.
Sirius cleared his throat, and we all looked at him. He shifted uncomfortably, holding up the folder. “Should I come back later?”
“Why is he in my apartment?” Lach asked slowly, as if he’d just realized there was an Astral Court prince sitting on his couch.
“Don’t ask me.” Shaw shrugged and pointed in our direction. “Ask those two.”
Lach looked between me and his sister. Ciara hesitated, and I jumped in. I had no idea what news Sirius would deliver, but this had been my idea. “We’ve been studying the alchemical makeup of clover. An older batch as well as the trinity strain. Well, Sirius has been studying it. We mostly bring him coffee.”
Lach studied me for a beat. “You have been doing what?” His voice was lethally soft. “Why?”
I swallowed, reminding myself that I was safe even now, that I was still in control of my life and my actions. I met his stare. “I thought if he could isolate what’s changed in its magic, you might be able to fix it.” I took a deep breath and glanced at Ciara. “And then you might not need ambrosia.”
Lach fell silent for so long I wondered if he was having a medical event. Finally, his gaze flicked to Sirius. “And what did you find?”
“Something that shouldn’t be there.” He tapped the folder. “Shadow court magic.”
I deflated at the revelation. Nothing. He had found nothing.
Lach scoffed. “Of course there’s shadow court magic. It comes from the Nether Court.”
“I’m sorry. I should explain,” Sirius said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought the same thing at first, when I only found shadow court magic. I was about to give up when I remembered that there are two shadow courts.”
Shaw leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Holy shit. Are you saying…”
Sirius glanced between all of us, looking slightly unnerved by his own findings. “So, I analyzed a sample of ambrosia. There are traces of Infernal Court magic in the newer batches. Have they been involved with clover production?”
“Apparently,” Lach said tightly, “but not with permission.”
Ciara clapped a hand over her mouth. Shaw stayed quiet this time. Even Roark looked shaken. But Lach…
I closed the distance between us and took his hand.
His eyes met mine, a rueful smile forming on his shapely lips. “That son of a bitch. Bain thought he could hide it in plain sight.”
“And he would have gotten away with it,” I said in a soft voice, “if we hadn’t trusted the Astral Court.”
There was a flicker of surprised pride in Lach’s eyes, and he nodded once before looking at Sirius. “Thank you.”
“What now?” Ciara dared to ask.
Lach squeezed my hand before smiling at her. “Ready to break your handfasting?”