Chapter 7 Alexander
Alexander
I lay in bed, wide awake despite the early hour. Ezra’s even breaths were barely audible at my side. In the pitch black, I couldn’t make out the squares of gold and black he hung on our ceiling.
My mind spun with my failures.
I still hadn’t met Quinn.
As much as I wanted to blame my work or Ezra’s quiet moodiness, I couldn’t.
It was me.
I was a mentalist. Any mind within a hundred and fifty feet was mine to influence, if I so chose.
The Architect wasn’t just who I was; he was who I had to be.
A persona built to protect others from me…
and me from them. But behind that title was still a man, one who wished, more than anything, to live in a world where people didn’t flinch at what he could do.
Where power didn’t decide your worth, and being seen didn’t mean being feared.
When I saw Quinn’s abused, dying body, all I could think of was saving her. But now we had to live with the consequences.
I pressed a hand to my stomach. I chained this woman to me. The full weight of her presence existed inside my chest.
Academically, I understood what a tether was, but actually living with one blew my mind.
It was incredible and horrible.
Incredible, because I felt her; horrible, because I couldn’t look away.
My mental powers let me read surface thoughts and go deeper if I was willing to sacrifice awareness of my body. But it didn’t let me observe the day-to-day sensations another person went through.
I knew a woman I’d never met better than the back of my hand.
She was not a morning person. The train shifts left her miserable, with small knocks and bruises every morning. I didn’t know how she did it; I only felt the ache. I didn’t know how she hurt herself, only that it hurt.
Her emotions changed on a dime. One minute she’d be laughing, and the next, a wave of unease washed it away. However, I couldn’t see her surroundings to know what she responded to.
Her gut panged with hunger; unless she was with friends, she didn’t eat. I didn’t understand what was going through her head to make those choices.
I lifted my hand; a vague outline slowly resolved in the dark.
Maybe I didn’t know her at all.
‘Are you with Quinn?’ I’d asked my lover last night.
‘Yes.’
One word. That was all he gave me.
I dropped my hand onto my face, torn between screaming into my pillow and suffocating my lover with it.
They were together, but I didn’t know why. Ezra disapproved of my actions. If he hated her, then he wouldn’t be training her. His gym was almost sacred. Yet, without fail, he took the time to work with the woman I tethered.
My lover valued hard work and dedication more than anything in this world. Did she have qualities that drew him in? Or was he keeping his enemies close?
I tried to sleep, but rest slipped through my fingers.
I was standing outside The Happy Rooster, much too early, when Matt unlocked the door.
He jerked back in surprise. “Architect.”
“Just Alexander.” I gave him a tight smile, grateful to be alone for once while waiting for the pub to open. “We’ve talked about this.”
Although everyone in the family knew my face, they saw it clothed in layers of rich colors with slicked-back hair and dark eyeliner that made my baby blues pop.
The Architect made his presence known. However, me, simple Xan, wore the same uniform as my trainees and kept to myself as I watched the family I created bloom.
Matt bobbed his head, though he fidgeted. He showed me to my favorite table, a little round one in the far corner. I had a great view of the entire Rooster, with very few people noticing me.
With coffee in hand and a small bowl of porridge on order, I pulled out a stack of reports from my spy network on the other families and waited.
‘Xan, what’s wrong?’ Ezra asked in my mind when he woke a short time later.
‘Nothing,’ I lied.
‘Do you want company?’
‘No. It’s time I met Quinn.’
‘Past time.’
I rocked back in my seat, the pale-pine scrawl blurring. Ezra didn’t make flippant comments.
Over the next few hours, The Happy Rooster filled with people taking refuge from the rain. Every chair and table had a body occupying it. I even had one of Ezra’s enforcers come in and fill in a gap at the bar, so I’d have the only seat left.
I felt Quinn leave the library and prepared myself to offer her a spot at my table the moment Matt turned her away. Her cloak-covered body wove through the full tables. But instead of Matt turning her away, she shrugged off her wet cloak.
I didn’t like what I saw. Her work-study uniform hung off her thin frame.
Matt blanched and looked toward me before snapping his gaze back to her.
They exchanged words that didn’t look friendly.
Quinn’s jaw set in a stubborn line before she slipped into the back.
The pain I’d felt in Quinn’s hamstrings the very first morning I was awake came back to me.
I just assumed she’d hurt herself or, at worst, been hazed by another of my trainees.
Nothing showed up in my reports, so I let it go.
I shouldn’t have. Something was off. I stood from my table and walked to the bar, getting Matt’s attention.
“Who just went in the back?” I asked as casually as I could.
Matt paled. “Uh, just a new dishwasher.”
I narrowed my eyes. I’d seen the woman’s schedule. At most, she could wash dishes for an hour this morning in place of her breakfast.
A bad feeling crept into my gut. “Do you feed her?”
“Ah, sometimes.” Matt put his hands out. “If something gets sent back.”
I didn’t like this. Not at all. But unless I used my authority to change it, clueing her into exactly who I was, I had to watch it play out.
Quinn needed to meet me, not the Architect, first.
I ordered a coffee refill and returned to my seat.
Her heart beat with mine, and with only half a mind on my reading, I listened and felt.
Whatever this arrangement was, she’d come to peace with it.
Her mind settled into a rhythm, and her power throbbed under her skin.
The hair on my arms rose. My blood heated and rushed to my cock.
Her magic was intoxicating, and it took all my self-control not to slip into her thoughts.
I wanted to understand this woman so badly it hurt.
This pull, her magic singing through me, felt right. I wanted more, to feel her skin, to have her between my legs. I’d never had sex with a woman, never wanted to until this moment. Before I could entertain the thought further, I froze.
Ezra. My solid, unyielding partner, who’d given me a reason to keep breathing when I’d been nothing more than a teen, scared of the world.
It didn’t matter how much I wanted Quinn; Ezra had to come first. He was my rock.
My impulsive need, this new wash of lust, had already driven a wedge between us, one I hadn’t known was possible.
If Ezra said no, she’d be a fantasy, mine to imagine, never to hold. My heart cracked. But that would have to be enough. My rational mind regained control over my dick.
For the next hour, I felt her frustration and anxiety build inside my chest. I’d never tethered a woman, never wanted to, but after feeling these details, a deep knowledge of why men did it embedded itself.
When given freely, this bond was magical.
When not, it would be violating. Quinn now had five tethers, three of them unknowns.
The fourth, one of Ezra’s five who claimed the bond formed against his wishes, was keeping her at arm’s length.
Ezra trusted him and wanted to understand before we took action.
For now, I would follow my lover’s lead.
And finally, the fifth, mine. I clenched my fists. It wasn’t right, and I’d added to it.
Unease made me almost stand and bolt. But I forced myself to stay. I couldn’t run from the consequences of my actions. They would always come back to haunt me, so I might as well face them head-on.
Finally, she moved, but not toward the kitchen, back to the bar. Her red hair, now frizzy, bounced back into my line of sight.
“Shit,” Matt’s curse cut through the chatter of the packed Rooster. He glanced at my table before turning and shoving something under the bar toward Quinn and attempted to herd her toward the back.
Quinn scowled and brought her TB up to her face just before Matt’s broad shoulders blocked my view of the exchange.
Quinn had only sent one message on her TB since she got it.
I assumed it was because of her lack of magic.
But clearly, it was more than that. I handmade a TB for each member of my family.
It wasn’t just a way to send messages. It was their connection to each other and to me.
Most importantly, it was their right always to have it at their side if they chose.
Clearly, Quinn wanted her TB.
I stood and slid to the bar. The blood drained out of Matt’s face, and he dashed into the back room. I’d deal with him later.
“Hey, Quinn, is it?” I asked, composing myself.
Quinn looked over at me. “And you are?”
My heart raced. No one spoke to me so casually. I was a mentalist. My magic could rip into her mind, read her thoughts, and change them to whatever I wanted in the blink of an eye.
I held out my hand. “My friends call me Xan.”
“And I’m your friend?” Quinn asked.
Yes. My heart screamed the answer, but I didn’t let it show on my face. “I would like you to be. Can I buy you breakfast?”
She shook her head. “Nope. That’s a trap. Just tell me what you want from me.”
Straightforward. Resistant. Determined. I shouldn’t have liked it as much as I did.
“Straight to the point.” I scratched my neck. “I’m a friend of Commander Ezra.” I hated dropping his name, but I needed her to sit with me. I had nothing else to offer her. “I’ve just heard a lot about you.”
Quinn studied me. Her heart pounded against mine.
“I have training with Rowan.” Quinn’s gaze flicked down my body. “And Rowan has a tracking spell on me or something. If I’m not headed toward the arena, he’ll show up here and kick your ass.”
“I’m sure he could try,” I said before quickly backpedaling. “I mean, whatever time you have. I just wanted to meet you.”
“Are you Ezra’s partner?” Quinn asked point-blank.
I coughed. No one ever referred to me as that, but it wasn’t wrong. “I am.”
Quinn visibly relaxed. “I don’t want to get into the middle of anything, but he’s hurting.” She waved her hands. “Not that he’s said anything, but you can see it in his bench press.”
I leaned forward. “In his bench press?”
Quinn narrowed her eyes. “Are you really willing to face Rowan’s wrath?”
“Oh, yes.” I smiled. This would be a test of Rowan’s loyalty. Would one of Ezra’s generals, mine by extension, follow my lead? Or had his tether changed his allegiance? “I suggest the full Scottish breakfast; the fry-up here is delightful.”