Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
S cottie
Sweat beads on my forehead as I grip the weight bar and let it down into the cradle. That last rep took my shoulders from a pleasant ache to a fiery burn. No, thank you. The only fiery burn I sign up for willingly is the kind that ends in me shattering with an orgasm and screaming out a man’s name.
But whose name would it be?
The training room hums with the energy of three very fine sexual possibilities—Tucker is my gentle giant. He’s a giver, and although he’s an alpha in every other way, with me he’s an even mix between a cinnamon roll and a golden retriever.
I was only with Huntley that one night, but what a night it was. Looking back with a new understanding, I see the tender moments when he checked in on me and cleaned me up afterward, but during the deed being done, he was a tireless machine. That man has endless stamina and needs no recovery period.
Just thinking about it makes me wet.
And then there’s Zane. The one man I always envisioned as my lover my entire life is no longer the only man I crave or the only man in my heart.
“Come on, beautiful, break times over.” Tucker encourages from his spot on the mat, pushing through his own workout. His eyes sparkle with mischief and warmth, making my heart race in ways I didn’t think possible. “If you keep daydreaming and filling our senses with your arousal, we’ll never finish this workout.”
“But we might find other ways to break a sweat,” Huntley adds.
I bite my lip and shake out my hands before gripping the weight bar again. “Sorry. I forgot you all have a freakishly keen sense of smell. You could always be gentlemen and pretend you smell nothing.”
Zane chuckles. “Or we could press the matter and find out which one of us you were imagining in that daydream of yours.”
I meet the curious gazes around the room and arch a brow. “And what if I told you it was all three?”
The shocked look on their faces is too fun. I leave them to consider that and go back to my workout. Tucker was raised in a shifter pack and vampires don’t cling to any kind of human proprieties, so their surprise must be with me.
That’s fine. They need to learn I’m full of surprises.
“Is that something you’d enjoy, princess?” Huntley strides over to look down on me, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly.
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined it.”
“No hedging, Scots.” Zane calls over from where he’s doing pull-ups like they’re nothing. “From now on, everything is out in the open. If you want something, you need to tell us.”
I laugh. “We should focus on the tasks at hand and not get ahead of ourselves. Daeva and Lazarus won’t wait around for us to explore the dynamics of our love lives.”
Tucker moves to stretch, reaching forward with his extensive grip as if preparing for an impending fight. The way his muscles flex and release make me want to whimper and climb him like a personal jungle gym.
It’s a beautiful thing.
He catches me staring and winks. “You’re doing it again.”
I swallow and focus on the ceiling above my weight bar. “Okay, what do we know for sure?”
Zane drops from his pull-up bar and swings his arms to loosen his shoulders. “The technomancer we met with has been useful. Tripp confirmed that every penny stolen from us has been returned. Also, Brandon halted that alternative market proposal before it could push through any regulations.”
“So, our enemies will know we’re on to them,” I say. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s good,” Huntley says. “Knowing that we’re closing in and taking back what they stole from us might give them pause.”
We can only hope. “If that knocks them off balance, they’ll make a mistake, and we can find them or get the upper hand.”
Zane grabs a towel from the supply cabinet and hangs it around the back of his neck, patting his face dry. “It’s a nice thought, but I have a feeling this guy has contingencies planned out. At most, we’re pissing him off.”
Huntley leans against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest. “That’s still progress. And once we recover the king’s head…all bets are off.”
My heart squeezes in my chest at the thought of Francesco’s head being someone’s gruesome trophy. I set the weight bar into its cradle, my focus lost. “It’s disgusting.”
Tucker comes over and sets his hand on my shoulder. As always, his touch eases the chaos of the squire magic simmering in my veins. It’s like what’s in me recognizes what’s in him and I’m at peace.
He meets my gaze, warm understanding swirling languidly in those caramel-gold eyes of his. I let out a long breath and the tension in my chest eases.
What this man does to me.
Zane clears his throat and shifts my attention back to business. “It’s safe to say Daeva delivered my father’s head to her sire. So, we find him, retrieve my father’s head, kill Daeva, and slaughter their army of mutts.”
“I want the burgundy-haired bitch,” I say.
Zane nods. “If the opportunity presents itself, she’s yours to kill. If not, she will be made to pay.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better. After watching her taunt my father in his last moments, I want to be the one to take Daeva down. But I hear what Zane is saying. If the opportunity presents itself is really saying ‘if you’re there and you’re ready to take her on’.
Oh, I will be.
As if being called by my desire to make that happen, Jack steps into the room carrying a long, elaborately jeweled box and waves a hand in the air. “Good, you’re all here. Scottie, are you moving forward with what we spoke about?”
“About completing the ritual to become the Vasari Sacred Squire? Yes, I’m ready to move forward.”
Jack looks to Zane. “The ritual has two parts—the oath, and the blood bond. Is the Diamond Dagger somewhere close at hand?”
Zane shakes his head. “No. The dagger is secured outside the compound.”
Jack nods and sets his attention to me again. “Then we’ll use Francesco’s cinquedea. It’ll do the job.”
I wipe up a little with my workout towel and meet Jack in the middle of the floor. “So, how do we do this?”
My heart pounds against my ribs as he raises the ancient weapon. It’s about eighteen inches long with a triangle blade that ends in a rounded tip. The grip is simple, and its pommel is small. I remember learning about its history as a kid. It’s an Italian dagger from the 1400s.
“Both of you, kneel.” Jack gestures to the mat floor before him.
Zane and I drop to our knees, our shoulders brushing. The contact sends sparks through my skin.
“Are you binding your life essences?”
Before I have time to consider the question, Zane answers. “No. I don’t want that.”
I turn to meet his gaze and I’m not sure if he can see the hurt in my eyes or not, but he sees something and his gaze softens. “If anything happens to me, I want you to live and love and raise our children. Losing both of our fathers was unnecessary. There was never any question that Bran would die to protect my father, and, given the circumstances, it would’ve been better if he hadn’t. Look where it left us.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Still, it stung a little to be rejected.
A gentle hand cups my jaw, and I gaze into his eyes. “I’m not rejecting you, Scots. Not even a little. I just can’t bear to think of your life ending because of me. If we go down in battle, that’s one thing. If it’s just because we’re bound, my answer is no.”
I draw a steadying breath and exhale. “All right. No life bond.”
Jack nods. “Do you, Scotland McCullough, swear to protect and serve the Vasari line with your life, your magic, and your soul?”
“I do.”
“Do you vow to stand as shield and sword, to place the safety of the king above all else?”
“I absolutely do.”
“Then repeat after me: By blood and blade, I bind my life to stand as the Vasari Sacred Squire.”
I repeat the words.
“Through darkness and light, I stand as guardian to the king.”
I repeat the words again.
“As our two lives weave into one, I accept my duty and all things it encompasses.”
I repeat the words one last time.
“Now, hold out your hands.”
I do as I’m told, and Zane does the same beside me. Jack lifts the ancient dagger from its jeweled box and holds it in front of us. “As the blood of the Vasari line bonds you, the honor and duty to serve unites.”
He draws the cutting edge across the flesh of my palm and then Zanes. The two of us clasp hands and let the magic of our bond take hold.
A sharp burn ignites on my forearm where the Vasari mark lies. The pain intensifies as Jack completes the oath, but I don’t flinch. The sensation of the tattoo changing sends shivers down my spine.
As our blood mingles, power surges between us, and the ink of the Vasari mark transforms from black to a rich oxblood red.
When the pain subsides, the bond we share is stronger and we’re undeniably more connected.
Zane’s free hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. When his lips meet mine, the world falls away. There’s only us, only this moment, only the sacred bond flowing between us like molten gold.
When we part, Jack dips his chin. “Congratulations, kids. You’re embarking on one of the most incredible bonds of your lives.”
Zane swallows. “And I couldn’t be happier. I love you, Scots. I’m honored to have you at my side.”
I draw a deep breath. “It’s where I’ve always belonged.”
His gaze softens. “I’m sorry I almost ruined everything.”
I shrug. “We took a long and winding road to get here, but we got here. That’s all that matters.”
When the moment passes, I meet the gazes of the other three men in the room. “What now?”
Jack smiles. “Now you train. Your powers will really come into play, and you need to learn how to wield them. Tucker better up his game.”
Tucker chuckles. “Ready to spar, beautiful?”
My stomach tightens with anticipation while excitement surges through me—I love sparring with Tucker. Jack is always careful with me. He taught my father to fight and Da taught me. I know the style of their moves.
Tucker challenges me in ways I never expect.
Huntley walks to the center of the room with us. “Sit this one out, big guy. I’ll take her on tonight.”
Jack raises an eyebrow at him, bemusement dancing across his features. “You sure about that? She isn’t fully in control of her powers. If she powers up, it could get dangerous.”
Huntley flashes me a cocky smirk and pulls his blond hair back into a man bun. “I’m willing to take the chance. I need to have a solid understanding of what she’s capable of.”
Jack shrugs, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Just remember—you asked for this.”