Chapter 5
Gavin hadn’t meant to touch her again, but when her eyes lifted to his—haunted, hopeful, and far too trusting—he felt his control slip. The lion inside him surged, demanding more. Demanding he claim her.
Not yet, he warned himself. She’s too fragile. Too new to the real world.
But his thumb brushed against the corner of her mouth anyway, catching a crumb from the sandwich she hadn’t yet finished. She stilled under his touch, her lips parting in surprise.
The room went quiet. His pulse thundered in his ears.
“Goldie…” he murmured, half in warning, half in surrender.
She leaned forward ever so slightly. A whisper of a movement, but it undid him completely. Instinct roared louder than reason. Before he could stop himself, Gavin bent his head and brushed his lips against hers.
It wasn’t much. Just a breath, a fleeting touch of warmth. But the world seemed to still around their fragile connection. Her lips trembled, then softened. The tiniest sigh escaped her—like wonder given form—and Gavin felt it all the way down to his soul.
Too soon, he thought desperately. He pulled back an inch, fighting his own instincts. But he had to be the strong one.
“Forgive me,” he rasped, his voice rougher than he liked. “I shouldn’t have—”
The kiss had been nothing like she expected.
Marigold had been taught that shifters were violent, overwhelming, and dangerous creatures that weren’t even human.
But Gavin’s lips had been gentle, almost reverent.
As if he feared she might break. He’d felt more warm and giving than anyone she’d ever known.
Her heart was still racing. Her breath caught, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.
“Why did you stop?” she whispered before she could think better of it.
His eyes widened, gold flaring bright. “Because you deserve more than an impulse. You deserve patience. You deserve a choice.”
His words sank deep, touching something fragile inside her. Nobody had ever asked what she wanted. Nobody had ever given her a choice. Yet, when he’d kissed her, it hadn’t felt like a mistake. It had felt inevitable. Magical. Almost divine.
She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, still tingling from his. “I’ll never forget that kiss,” she admitted softly, almost to herself.
Neither will I, his expression promised, though he didn’t say it aloud. He only leaned away from her, jaw tight with restraint.
“Finish your sandwich, Goldie,” he said softly, reaching forward to grab a sandwich off the platter for himself. He ate half of it with one bite, or so it appeared.
Marigold sat very still, the taste of Gavin’s lips still lingering, when his voice gentled again.
“Tell me, Goldie,” he said, leaning forward, his forearms braced on his knees. He wasn’t crowding her, but his attention was absolute. “What do you want? Why did you come here? Why did you come to me?”
He took another bite of his sandwich as he waited for her answer. The casual act of polishing off his sandwich seemed designed to calm her, but it didn’t really work. Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I just…want to be free. Free of them. Of the Rollins dynasty. Of everything they’ve tried to make me into,” she admitted.
Something dark flickered in his gaze, but his tone stayed calm. “Free how? Running isn’t enough. They’ll hunt you.”
“I know.” She bit her lip, clutching her hands in her lap. “But I’d rather die free than live as their…battery.”
He stilled. “Battery?” His handsome features scrunched up the tiniest bit in confusion.
Her chest rose and fell too quickly, shame and fear colliding. But she had to make him understand. “They used me. Hurt me until I lowered my barriers. Then they siphoned my power. Over and over.” Her voice cracked. “I was just a tool to them. Not a person. Not family.”
The silence in the room grew heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the air vents. Gavin’s jaw flexed. She could almost hear the growl in his chest, though he kept it contained.
“Marigold…” His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Were you ever marked? Do you bear a Venifucus tattoo?”
She shook her head quickly, almost violently.
“No. They said I wasn’t worthy. I have magic, but I can’t access it.
I’m not a mage. Not really. So I wasn’t given the mark.
I wasn’t even considered a true member of the family.
Just a resource.” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears.
“They carved plenty of other things into me, though.”
Her voice faltered. Against her will, she tugged back one sleeve, exposing pale skin marred with faint, silvery lines. Old scars. None of them looked accidental. Each straight line looked deliberate. Controlled.
“They cut me and bled me. Again and again, until I gave them what they wanted.” Her hand trembled as she pushed the sleeve back down.
She wished she could bury herself in the couch cushions and disappear.
“When they hurt me, my magic rises, and they can use my energies as they will. That’s all I was to them.
A power source. Hurting me was a means to an end. ”
Gavin tossed his napkin back to the coffee table and surged to his feet, pacing two strides away before spinning back. His fury was leashed for now, but straining his control.
“They tortured you?” His voice was raw, ragged.
Her heart hammered. She shouldn’t have told him. What if he turned that anger on her? But instead, he drew a long breath, forcing his fists to unclench while she remained mute, not answering his question. After a tense moment, he went on, his voice a low growl.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” he admitted, his honesty cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re still a Rollins. Still tied to them by blood, whether you want to be or not.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but before she could turn away, his hand came down on the back of the couch—close, but not touching her. “But I do know this: I won’t let them hurt you again. Not while you’re under my care.”
She blinked, stunned. He was still wary, still suspicious. But beneath the doubt, there was steel in his words. Steel, and something more.
Resolve.
He would keep her close. Keep her safe. Even if he wasn’t sure yet what she meant to him. For Marigold, that was more hope than she’d had in years.
Gavin dragged a hand down his face, trying to rein in the fury that threatened to burst free.
The last thing Marigold needed was to see his rage.
He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. She’d lived in fear too long already.
What she needed was calm, control, and structure.
Decision made, he exhaled sharply and straightened.
“All right. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Her wide eyes locked on him, wary but attentive. She looked like a cornered deer, fragile yet refusing to look away.
“I’m going to speak with my Alpha,” Gavin continued, his tone gentling, “and arrange for you to be housed in a safe location. I have a place in mind that is secure, guarded, and far beyond the Rollinses’ reach.”
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to ask what that meant, but no words came.
“You’ll stay there until I can figure out our next move. Until then, you eat, rest, and heal. Those are your only jobs until you’re back on your feet.” He gestured to the food on the cart. “Start with that. We’ll deal with everything else after.”
She nodded once, quickly, like she didn’t quite believe him but didn’t dare challenge him either. Still, some of the tension in her shoulders eased, just a little.
“Good girl,” he murmured before he could stop himself. The lion approved, but he forced himself to step away before he said anything more.
Gavin strode to the door and cracked it open. He left it wide enough that he could glance back and see her still sitting on the couch, a second half of a sandwich in her hands. She looked small in his office, too delicate for the world she’d been born into. But she was here. With him. For now.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Gavin stepped into the hall. He kept his voice pitched low enough that no human could hear him, but any shifter would. Sharp senses were part of their nature.
“Alpha,” he said when Sam Kinkaid answered. “You’ve heard about my unexpected visitor?”
“Marigold Rollins. I heard.” Sam’s voice was calm, but the undercurrent of interest was unmistakable.
“She walked right into my office. Exhausted, hungry, disheveled, but here.” Gavin leaned against the wall, his gaze sliding back to where Marigold sat nibbling her sandwich, oblivious to his conversation.
“She claims she escaped during the demon-summoning fiasco. Says she wants to be free of her family. Claims she was never marked as Venifucus. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s telling the truth. Or at least, a version of it.”
“Do you believe her?” Sam asked.
Gavin’s jaw tightened. “Not entirely. Not yet. But I can’t ignore the scars, Sam. She says they’ve been using her like a magical power source for years. Torturing it out of her, over and over. I can’t let that stand.”
A pause, then Sam said, “So what’s your plan?”
“I want her placed in the downtown residence. Penthouse suite. It’s isolated, secure, and easy to guard. I’ll stay there with her until I know what I’m dealing with. She may be the key to finding the rest of the Rollins strongholds.”
“You’re willing to tie yourself to her?” Sam asked. “Even without knowing if you can trust her?”
“I need her close if I’m going to discover her secrets. And if she’s telling the truth, she deserves a chance to live outside that hellhole of a family.” Gavin’s voice dropped, a growl threading through the words. “I won’t hand her back to them. Not ever.”
Another pause, then Sam’s voice came back, decisive. “Do it. I’ll authorize the move. Make sure she’s protected, Gavin. And keep your head. Don’t let instincts cloud your judgment.”
Gavin’s gaze drifted once more to the couch. Marigold had curled slightly into the cushions, sandwich still in hand, her eyes closed as if she hadn’t meant to drift off. Exhaustion clung to her, but there was something else too. Fragile hope.
“Too late for that,” Gavin muttered under his breath after ending the call.
Gavin moved smoothly back to his desk, careful not to make too much noise so as not to wake up his guest. She looked utterly exhausted, and now that she’d eaten something, she’d conked out, mid-sandwich.
He didn’t mind. He had arrangements to make for her safekeeping, and that was best done while she was sleeping.
They would relocate to the building he had in mind, but first, he had to send off messages to Clanmates to get the place ready.
He ordered food to be stocked in the fridge and cabinets within the hour.
He also asked one of the ladies to help source clothes for their guest along with toiletries and anything else a woman, who had nothing and was going to stay for a while, might need.
He also had to arrange for a security sweep of the building and surroundings, as well as an escort and secure vehicle to get Goldie from here to there in one piece.
Luckily, he had a good team that was used to accomplishing things quickly.
Within a half-hour, he’d sent all his directives and had a few questions fired back to him and answered.
Within an hour, everything was set up to his specifications, and one of the armored SUVs owned by the Clan was waiting in the parking garage, along with their security escort.
They were all in various kinds of vehicles so as not to draw attention, but every one of the men and women in those vehicles were part of the Clan’s security forces, and they knew how to guard a valuable asset.
They usually saw to Sam’s safety, and that of his high-ranking political or business guests.
Tonight, they’d be securing someone who might still prove to be an enemy.
Or she could turn out to be a valuable asset for their side of the ongoing fight between good and evil.
Only time would tell which way that would go down.
When everything was set, Gavin knew it was time to wake Sleeping Beauty.
He went over to the couch along the far wall of his office and took a moment to just look at her.
She really was lovely. There was something so strong, yet frail about her that spoke to his lion’s protective instincts.
There was also a hum of unfulfilled promise surrounding her. Likely, it was her unrealized magic.
Gavin’s mother was a mage, so he had a bit of magic of his own and could recognize it in others.
That’s one of the skills that had led Sam to put him in charge of a few highly-specialized facets of the Clan’s security.
Magical threats were one of them, and having a Rollins under the Clan’s roof qualified on all counts as a threat.
He couldn’t quite tell if Marigold had been telling the truth about her magic having never manifested.
He’d have to do a lot more investigating before he knew the reality behind her claim.
There were many reasons magic might refuse to come out in someone who would otherwise have a lot of power due to their genetics.
Gavin had studied that area because of his own family history, but in the minutes while she slept and he waited for his plans to be enacted by his Clanmates, he did a little refresher course on reasons magic could be suppressed in an otherwise powerful person of mage blood.
None of the reasons were good. Mostly, it boiled down to trauma. If Marigold was telling the truth about her power and her inability to access it, then it was most likely due to some sort of trauma she’d suffered before reaching an age where her magic would have normally come to the fore.
Gavin already knew he wasn’t going to like what could have traumatized this gentle soul so badly that her Goddess-given talents had been utterly squashed and repressed within her own psyche.
If she was telling the truth—and he was leaning more and more toward that inevitability—then he was going to have to uncover the facts of her trauma and, if at all possible, help her deal with them.
He wasn’t looking forward to dredging up whatever it was that had caused her light to dim even before it had a chance to shine.
He had a feeling his other half was going to really hate whatever had happened and what had been done to her since then.
If he hadn’t already had a compelling reason to end all the Rollinses he could find, Marigold might just prove to have given him another reason.
Vengeance. And justice for an innocent little girl born into that evil dynasty.