Chapter Ten
Killian
This is a complication I didn’t account for.
Rookie mistake on my end. I assumed that anyone I recognized in an establishment like this would be a business associate, ally, adversary, or enemy.
All people who should see Lyra with me and get the message; I’ve claimed her, she’s mine, and anyone who touches her will die a fantastically painful and drawn-out death.
I didn’t consider that someone Lyra knows might be here. Now, I either hope that Lyra sticks to the script I gave her and heeds my threat, or I’ll need to find a way to contain Annalise by force. Which would alienate me from Carter, who has a strange fixation on her.
“Good to see me?” Annalise is indignant. “Good to fucking see me? Bitch, you fell off the face of the fucking earth! I thought you were dead. I mourned you. How—”
“Anna.” Lyra stands from her seat. “Please. Let me explain?”
Every muscle in my body tenses. This is the make it or break it moment. Lyra will already hate me once Carter starts on whatever sordid plans he has for the blonde and Lyra finds out I sanctioned him to do whatever he wanted. She will probably try to kill me if I directly hurt Anna.
So, for my Little Bird’s sake, I hope her sense wins out over her pride.
“You have thirty seconds before I bitch slap you,” Anna hisses.
My eyebrow twitches. If she puts her hands on my Lyra, I will retaliate. I don’t care if she’s a woman, or a friend. Nobody touches Lyra and gets away with it.
“The tape.” Lyra’s voice is lower, just loud enough for me and Anna to hear. “That AI bullshit was made up by one of Killian’s adversaries, someone who thought we were together.”
Anna’s expression softens, but only just. Meanwhile, I glare at Lyra. She better stick to our fucking script, or else a spanking is the very least that I’m going to do to her when we get home.
“We weren’t together, exactly, but something had started… building between us.”
My eyebrow almost twitches. I never knew my Little Bird was such a good liar. She’s so convincing, I might believe her, if I didn’t see the slight tremble in her hands.
Anna’s frown eases a bit more. “Okay…”
“God, it was fucking mortifying, Anna. I needed to get away, and he,” she waves in my general direction, “…helped me.”
Her tone wavers on the word helps, but if Ana notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“I sent in my resignation and fled. I needed to be out of the public eye for a good long while.”
“Why didn’t you reach out to me?” Anna’s tone is wavering, too. There’s still suspicion in her eyes, but a deep sadness overshadows it. “And why are you with him?”
“I literally got back yesterday. I didn’t reach out to you… because I was embarrassed.”
My god, Lyra really is an incredible actress. I file that away for later consideration; it could prove to be problematic for me.
“Why would you be embarrassed if it was fake?”
“Because it looked real enough,” Lyra reasons. “Fuck, you don’t know what it was like, Anna.”
Anna pauses at that. “Yeah. It couldn’t have felt good. But you should’ve talked to me. You know I’ll always be on your side. I could’ve helped you.”
That’s another problem to consider. Lyra having a support system outside of me… I dislike that on principle. It gives her a place to hide from me.
Maybe it is for the best that I unleashed Carter on Annalise. Perhaps I should even encourage him to act sooner. Lyra should have nowhere to run but into my arms; that’s when I’ll truly be confident in our relationship.
“I’m sorry,” Lyra says softly, and those words ring with truth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… had to get away.”
“You still haven’t answered why you’re with him.” Anna gestures in my general direction. I allow a smile to overtake my thinned lips.
“I’m… staying with him for a while.” Lyra demurely tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear.
Anna frowns. “But… you were—”
“He’s helped me,” Lyra interrupts, a little too quickly.
There’s a story behind that almost-exchange that I’ll get out of her later.
Probably safe to assume that she spoke poorly of me during our time together.
So long as that pattern doesn’t repeat itself, I’ll accept it.
“Anna, can we talk later? I haven’t gotten a phone yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll call you. I promise.”
Anna seems profoundly uncomfortable with leaving Lyra alone with me. Good instincts. I settle back in my seat, enjoying the show.
Anna finally turns to me, as if I haven’t been listening in on the entire situation. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But if you hurt her—”
“You’ll kill me?” my smile widens. “I appreciate the heads up. But, rumor has it you have bigger fish to fry.”
Anna’s cheeks heat. Looks like she has had some sort of contact with Carter. Interesting.
I’ve pegged Carter for a lot of bad things over the years, but someone who obsesses over a woman was never one of them. Anna might’ve just turned herself into leverage. That is, if he isn’t planning on killing her—which my gut tells me he isn’t.
But, if he doesn’t smarten up and take me up on my offer, I might end up having to threaten as much. And I try not to make threats I’m not prepared to carry out.
“I love you,” Lyra tells Anna. Jealousy tenses my shoulders, and my jaw ticks.
She shouldn’t love anyone but me, and our future children. Her affection should belong only to our family.
The two women hug. Anna reluctantly slinks away. Lyra angles her head away from Anna, inadvertently giving me a view of her eyes glimmering with tears, and the stricken expression on her face.
Another emotion winds through my chest. An unfamiliar one that I can’t quite put a name on. My Little Bird’s obviously hurting because of what I just made her do, and I don’t like that nearly as much as I thought I might.
“The two of you should get dinner sometime soon,” I suggest impulsively, then almost slap myself.
I shouldn’t be affording her such freedom; she isn’t ready yet.
She might not be ready for a good long while, if ever.
Before giving her privileges, I need to be sure of her loyalty—for both of our sakes.
Lyra’s eyes squeeze shut, and she shakes her head. A single tear trails down her cheek, but she’s quick to dash it away, and no more follow.
I really, really dislike that. Yes, she should suffer for abandoning me, but this agony… it doesn’t suit her. It doesn’t suit me. Perhaps I was a bit harsh, but Anna being here left me with little choice.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell her, my voice gentler than I thought I was capable of.
“Don’t say that to me.” Her words aren’t harsh; they’re pleading. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
Except, it isn’t a lie. Everything will be okay.
I won’t allow anything else. Lyra will acclimate—she’ll get nothing but princess treatment from me, unless she’s being a brat.
I’ll take care of the threat from The Eyes.
I’ll find a way to wrangle Carter on my side.
And I will start building the family that I never knew I wanted until her.
In the meantime, I should think of at least something to cheer Lyra up.
It’s difficult, considering she isn’t susceptible to traditional methods—flowers, chocolate, and jewelry would mean jack shit to her.
I could take her on a trip somewhere, get her away from the states, but I can’t currently afford to leave. There’s too much going on.
Something to think on.
Two servers arrive to set our food in front of us. I barely taste the food as I eat, my eyes stuck on Lyra, and my mind somewhere very far away.
When we return after breakfast, Lyra once again hides herself in a spare bedroom. She doesn’t bother locking the door this time, but I don’t disturb her. She can have some time to process whatever it is that’s going through that little head of hers.
I expect her to come out around lunch, so I wait for her in the dining room. She doesn’t show, so I go back to work.
She misses dinner, as well. I’m tempted to check on her, but whatever conscience I have prompts me to give her space.
She just had to lie to her closest friend on my account and entirely reframe what occurred five months ago.
Even I can understand that would push any rational person to their limits.
At around midnight, I’ve taken just about all I can. I knock on the guest bedroom door before opening it.
She isn’t on the bed. The bathroom door’s shut, and the water is running. A spark of panic tightens my chest. Lyra’s in a dark place today. I haven’t seen her since the morning…
I walk over to the bathroom and try the door. It’s locked. Urgency grips me. I’ve cornered and trapped her, and once someone’s been cornered, they turn animalistic. A beast will chew off its own limb to escape. What would a woman do if she saw no way forward or out?
“Lyra!” I roar. “Open this fucking door!” I sound as crazed as I feel.
No response comes. I don’t remember where my bathroom keys are—why didn’t I remove all the locks in this apartment?
I slam my shoulder against the door once. Twice. On the third time, the door cracks… and then the handle turns.
Relief nearly brings me to my knees. Lyra stares at me with a wide, frightened expression. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind her—hair sticking out, eyes crazed, face red. I take a deep breath, attempting to compose myself.
“I’m having all the locks removed tomorrow,” I bite out.
Lyra’s demeanor doesn’t shift, except for the slightest flicker of resignation. She doesn’t respond, and my anger doesn’t abate.
“What the fuck were you doing in here?” I growl.
She blinks slowly, then gestures at the towel wrapped around her. I hadn’t even noticed it in my fear-fueled rage. “Showering.”
I exhale a deep breath, some of the tension seeping from me, and pull her into my arms. She clutches her towel with a death grip, not returning my embrace, but she doesn’t step away either. Perhaps she recognizes that now isn’t the time to fight me.
Her skin is slightly damp, but warm. Mostly smooth. Her body is soft where mine is hard. Her hair is wavy and unkempt. She looks and feels so goddamn beautiful, and so fucking mine. I would burn countries to the ground before ever letting her go.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispers.
“Just give me another minute.” My tone is gruff. I never quite know what to expect with Lyra, which keeps me on my toes and is refreshing most times, but can lead to situations like this. She’s a variable I struggle to predict.
When she starts trembling in my hold, I finally release her and step back.
“If I find you hiding in another bedroom or bathroom again, I’m going to take my belt to your ass, then fuck it.” I let the threat sink in for a beat. “I expect you to be in bed, naked, in the next five minutes.”
I leave her to make her decision. It doesn’t take the full five minutes; it only takes two before she appears in our bedroom, drops her towel, and dives under the sheets.
I could fuck her right now. It wouldn’t hurt to fill her up with my cum.
But, for tonight, I’m more inclined to simply hold her and enjoy the fact that she’s here, and she’s mine. She will always be mine.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me.
She tenses, but doesn’t struggle. She shifts uncomfortably when I rest my hand on her breast, but that’s fine.
Her discomfort will fade as our rituals turn into routines.
She’ll start to anticipate her morning spanking; she’ll start to get wet for me when we’re in the same room.
She’ll get so used to having my cum inside her she’ll be uncomfortable without it.
She’ll accept me. She has to. Or keeping both of us alive will become far more difficult.