Chapter 19
Two weeks had passed since I saw Lucien out on the patio that night with rage tearing through him, his hands bloody, his voice low and lethal as he’d tried to shield me from it.
Two weeks of him pretending calm.
He thought he could mask it, thought that the soft touches, the protective words, the kisses pressed to my hair would hide the storm inside him.
But the bond betrayed him. I felt the fury, felt it like a pulse under my own skin.
It was there every night when he left as soon as dusk fell, returning only when the horizon started to pale with dawn.
Every night, he came back smeared in blood and that awful, sulphur-black substance I now knew was demon essence.
Every night, he’d shower, scrubbing himself clean, and then pull me into his arms as though holding me could cleanse him too.
He never spoke of it. Never explained what was driving him. He thought silence kept me safe.
It didn’t.
I lived with the weight of it, with the ache of knowing he was fighting demons outside while I was trapped fighting my own inside.
Still, he called every night, sometimes twice, sometimes more, always to hear my voice, always to check on me.
And the moment he got inside, before he even looked at me, he demanded a full report from the men.
Then, only then, did he let himself come to me.
That was our rhythm. His war. My waiting. Until the night it broke.
I’d just gone into the kitchen, craving something normal, a sandwich maybe with some nice soft bread, cheese, and nothing heavy. My hand was on the knife, about to cut, when I heard it. Shouts. Footsteps running as a loud commotion started outside.
Before I could blink, Troy and Jericho were there, guns raised, eyes like sharpened steel as they flanked me. My chest went tight, breath catching.
“Upstairs,” Troy ordered, his voice clipped. “Now.”
Ivan came running from the hall, barefoot, only in black slacks, his hair rumpled from sleep but his weapon steady in his hands. His chest rose and fell hard, bare and scarred, but his voice was calm, commanding. “What happened?”
A man from outside burst through the back door, his tone hard as he faced the men. “The demons have breached the perimeter!”
My blood froze. My heart lurched into my throat. Demons were here...and Lucien wasn’t.
Troy’s hand pressed against my back, guiding me fast, Jericho close behind. Ivan fell into step, already giving orders in that clipped soldier’s tone, his voice a low growl.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. My hands shook as I pulled it free, Lucien’s name glowing across the screen.
“Lucien!” I gasped, my voice breaking as Jericho shoved me toward the stairs. “The demons…they’ve breached…the estate…”
His voice roared down the line, fury so sharp it made my ears ring. “Where are you? What the fuck happened?”
I stumbled, my panic spilling into the bond, “We’re…I’m…”
The phone was snatched from my grip. Troy pressed it to his ear, still moving, his other hand steady on my arm. “We’re securing your mate. You need to get here Lucien and bring men.” His tone was iron with no wasted words.
Behind us came a crash, shattering wood and stone.
My scream caught in my throat as Jericho cursed, scooping me up like I weighed nothing.
My arms locked around his shoulders, every muscle tight as he bounded up the stairs, two at a time, the sound of destruction echoing below us.
He moved so fast that I was dizzy by the time he stopped.
Ivan darted ahead, his hand flying to a hidden panel in the wall behind Lucien’s suits.
He pressed something, and a soft click sounded.
The panel slid open, revealing a narrow passage that led into a reinforced chamber, the walls were steel, there was a low hum sound which identified the locks engaging, the cold press of safety.
A panic room, a room that I didn’t even know existed. Even though I was carried here I was gasping with fear.
Jericho set me down inside, his grip firm, his eyes fierce. “Stay.” The door slid shut between us before I could even breathe a protest.
I spun, palms slamming against the steel. “No! Don’t…don’t stay out there!”
I could hear them, Troy was barking orders, Ivan’s voice was steady and calm. My chest heaved, terror clawing at my ribs. They were out there against demons, protecting me.
My legs gave out, dropping me to the cold floor of the panic room. My phone was gone. My hands were empty. All I had was the muffled sound of chaos beyond the walls and the pounding of my heart.
And the bond.
Through it, I felt Lucien. His rage, sharper than knives. His panic when he felt mine. And beneath it all, the relentless vow that I knew he would do everything in his power to protect me. I knew he would come for me.