Chapter 12 #2
“You’re hurt,” he says, moving toward me with that predatory grace that makes him so dangerous in the ring.
“I’m fine,” I reply, but he’s already reaching for the first aid kit mounted on the wall.
“Sit,” he orders, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
I could argue, but the truth is I like seeing this side of him—protective, focused, caring for me with the same intensity he brings to everything else. I hop up onto the bench and let him clean the cut above my eye with professional efficiency.
His hands are gentle despite their size, careful not to cause unnecessary pain as he works.
This close, I can smell his cologne mixed with the leather and metal scents that always seem to cling to him.
When he leans in to apply the butterfly bandage, his breath touches my cheek, and I have to resist the urge to turn my head and capture his mouth with mine.
“Beautiful work out there,” he says quietly, his voice rough with something that might be pride or desire or both. “That combination you used to set up the knockout… we drilled that sequence a hundred times, but you made it look effortless.”
“I had a good teacher,” I murmur, letting my eyes meet his.
For a moment, we just look at each other. Then he leans down and presses his lips to mine, soft and careful, like he’s afraid I might break.
The kiss tastes like victory and promises, and when he pulls away, his dark eyes are blazing with something that makes my breath catch.
“That’s from me,” he says simply. “The rest of your celebration will have to wait.”
Before I can ask what he means, the door opens again, and Marcus steps inside. He’s changed from his expensive suit into dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that makes him look younger and more approachable. His designer glasses are gone, letting me see his dark eyes clearly.
Dom nods at him once, some kind of masculine communication I don’t understand, and heads for the door. “I’ll make sure no one else interrupts,” he says, and then I’m alone with the man who’s been protecting me from the shadows for five years.
Marcus moves toward me with that controlled grace that speaks of military training, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reaches the bench where I’m sitting, he stops just close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
“I’ve been watching you fight since you were eighteen,” he says quietly.
“Training footage, sparring sessions, everything I could get my hands on, but seeing you out there tonight, in front of everyone, claiming your place, fighting under your real name for yourself…” He pauses, something raw flickering across his features.
“I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life. ”
His jaw tightens, and the careful control he maintains over his expression slips. Marcus doesn’t give compliments lightly or reveal his emotions easily.
“Marcus,” I start, but he shakes his head.
“Let me finish.” He reaches up, his fingers barely touching the bandage Dom applied above my eye.
“I’ve spent five years keeping you safe from a distance, watching you become the woman you were always meant to be.
But tonight, seeing you win, seeing you take back what’s yours…
I don’t want to watch from a distance anymore.
” His hand slides down to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip with reverent care.
“I want to be here, with you, for whatever comes next.”
When he kisses me, it’s different from Dom’s careful tenderness.
Marcus kisses like a man who’s been denied something he’s wanted desperately for too long, with controlled hunger that makes my toes curl in my boots.
His other hand fists in my still-damp hair, holding me exactly where he wants me as he takes my mouth with thorough possession.
By the time we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. For once, Marcus kisses like he’s not calculating anything at all.
“That’s for tonight,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, “and for five years of wanting something I thought I could never have.” He steps back before either of us can do something that would complicate the evening further, straightening his shirt with practiced ease.
“Kieran’s waiting outside. Try not to let him do anything too dramatic. ”
I’m still processing the kiss when the door opens for the third time tonight. Kieran enters like he owns the entire building, which he very well might. The Sterling Syndicate has investments in half the underground establishments in the city.
He’s loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, concessions to the informality of the setting, but he still looks like he stepped off the cover of a business magazine. Except for his eyes. Those ice-blue depths are burning with something that has nothing to do with business.
“Christ, Raven,” he breathes, moving toward me with predatory intent. “ You made me want things I shouldn’t, things my family would destroy me for. Do you have any idea what you did to me, watching you take her apart piece by piece?”
Unlike Dom and Marcus, Kieran doesn’t stop when he reaches me. Instead, he steps between my legs where I’m sitting on the bench, his hands coming up to frame my face with possessive certainty.
“I’ve seen hundreds of fights,” he continues, his voice low and rough with desire, “but watching you… watching you prove that you’re everything your father was and more… it was the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
His confession sends heat spiraling through me, made more intense by the post-fight adrenaline still singing in my veins.
When he leans down to kiss me, there’s nothing gentle or careful about it.
Kieran kisses like he’s claiming territory, like he’s marking me as his in ways that go beyond simple possession.
His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space between us, until I can feel every hard line of his body pressed against mine, including his cock.
The kiss tastes like expensive whiskey and dangerous promises, and when he finally pulls away, we’re both breathing like we’ve been running.
“That was for proving every single person in that arena wrong about who you are,” he says, his thumb tracing my swollen lower lip, “and for reminding me just how much I wanted you before you disappeared… and how much I still want you. Will always want you.”
“Kieran…”
“I know you still have doubts about me, but, Raven…” He touches his forehead to mine and shudders.
Then, he’s stepping back, putting distance between us with visible effort.
“Ghost is practically vibrating with impatience. I’d go find him before he does something typically unpredictable to get your attention. ”
I slide off the bench on unsteady legs, the combined effect of three very different but equally intense kisses making my head spin. “Where is he?”
Kieran’s grin is sharp and knowing. “Roof. Where else would a man called Ghost go when he wants privacy?”
The roof of the Obsidian is accessible through a maintenance stairwell that most people don’t know exists, but Axel isn’t most people, and by now I’m not surprised that he’s found his way to the highest, most isolated part of the building.
I find him sitting on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling into open air, completely unbothered by the five-story drop below. The city spreads out around us, a glittering maze of lights and shadows that seems to pulse with the same energy that’s been driving me all night.
“You know,” he says without turning around, “most people would call sitting up here crazy.”
“Good thing I’m not most people,” I reply, settling beside him with rather more care for the drop.
He turns to look at me then, those amber-brown eyes bright with wild delight and something deeper, more complex. “No, you’re definitely not. Most people don’t knock out professional killers and then climb onto rooftops to celebrate.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Celebrating?”
His grin is pure mischief. “Depends. How do you want to celebrate?”
My pulse races. Axel has always been the wildcard, the one whose responses I can’t predict, whose energy feeds the reckless part of me that five years of careful planning haven’t been able to completely suppress.
“You tell me,” I say, letting challenge creep into my voice.
He laughs, the sound bright and sharp in the night air. “You want to know what I was thinking, watching you fight?”
“Tell me.”
“I was thinking that you looked like a goddess of war down there. Beautiful and terrible and absolutely magnificent.” His hand finds mine where it rests on the concrete ledge, his fingers intertwining with mine.
“I was thinking that I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, and that wanting you is probably going to be the death of me. ”
The confession is delivered with his characteristic brutal humor, but I can hear the truth underneath it. Axel might project chaos and unpredictability, but his feelings for me are anything but casual.
“And what else were you thinking?” I ask, moving closer until our shoulders are touching.
“I was thinking that you deserve someone who can match your fire. Someone who won’t try to tame you or contain you or make you safe.” His brown eyes meet mine, suddenly serious despite his playful tone. “Someone who’ll burn with you instead of trying to put out the flames.”
When he kisses me, it’s different from the others—wild and sweet and tinged with something that tastes like freedom. Axel kisses like he does everything else, with complete commitment to the moment, no thought for consequences or complications.
His free hand tangles in my hair, holding me close as he deepens the kiss, and I can feel the barely contained energy that’s always just beneath his surface. He tastes like mint and danger and possibilities I haven’t considered, and when we break apart, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning.
“That’s for being magnificent,” he says, his voice rough with emotion he doesn’t bother to hide, “and for choosing us, even though we’re all probably terrible for you in different ways.”
I lean back against his shoulder, looking out over the city that’s about to become my battleground. “Maybe terrible is exactly what I need.”
“Maybe it is,” he agrees, his arm coming around me to hold me steady against the wind that’s picked up. “But either way, you’ve got us now. All of us. Whatever comes next, you don’t face it alone.”
As I sit on the roof with Axel’s warmth surrounding me, the taste of four different kisses still lingering on my lips, I realize that everything has changed tonight.
Not just because I won my first official fight under my own name, not just because I’ve announced my return to the underground world that destroyed my family.
Everything has changed because I’m no longer Vincent Blackwood’s daughter trying to prove herself worthy of his legacy. I’m Raven Blackwood, and I’m building my own empire… with four dangerous men who’ve claimed pieces of my heart I didn’t know I was willing to give.
The war for my father’s legacy is just beginning, but tonight, surrounded by the city lights and held by someone who sees the fire in me as a feature rather than a flaw, I’m not afraid of what’s coming.
I’m looking forward to it.