Chapter 8 Quinn #3
I gulped down my water, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in my own room.
“I’ll get the door.” I ducked my head and scampered down the stairs.
Rowan stood there in his full blacks. “Quinn, you’re white as a sheet. What happened?”
“Ah, your enforcer friend.” Erick’s voice drifted down the stairs before he joined us, holding the door so I couldn’t open it any further.
“Brody, unfortunately, gave her a scare,” Erick explained.
I drew in a breath, ready to tell him not to speak for me, but Erick gave me a light kick to the calf, a silent warning to stay out of it.
Before I could react, Rowan’s expression hardened.
His gaze burned hot enough to sear. He shoved the door open, forcing Erick to stumble back, then delivered a matching kick to my roommate’s shin.
The sound cracked through the air. Erick froze, more stunned than hurt, his mouth opening in disbelief.
Rowan didn’t wait for a response. He turned and strode up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his shoulders tight with quiet fury.
I blinked after him, caught between shock and an entirely inappropriate urge to smile. It was petty. Childish. And extremely satisfying.
“Why are all the men around you unstable, Quinn?” Erick snarled.
I huffed. “You’re my roommate, you sure you want to ask that?”
Erick let out a dramatic sigh and ran after Rowan, while I followed at a more reasonable pace.
“This is very uncalled for,” Erick said as he crested the top. “And an invasion of my domicile. An Adler Michelson residence. I will take this up with the Architect himself.”
Rowan ignored Erick. With his hand resting on his sword hilt, he addressed Erick’s friends. “How did you get through our walls?”
“I invited them.” Erick stepped forward with his hand up like a schoolboy. “Ashkar here is my cousin, just stopping through, and Emil is his power slave. You know how close those dynamics run.”
Emil bowed his head, further hiding his face in his hood.
Rowan held out his hand, and Erick placed a scrawl in it. After a glance through, Rowan handed the scrawl back. “Your documents are in order.”
“See,” Erick grinned before turning to his guests. “The Architect shut down The Rooster, in person, even. I’ve gotten a few messages saying I’m missing a show. Shall we move on for the time being?”
I looked at his friends again, only to see the power slave staring right at me.
Both his forest-green eyes glimmered, and a slip of matching hair fell over his face.
Erick and his cousin moved for the door, and Emil turned, just a little slower.
Each step of his rubber-soled shoes squeaked on my floor.
Those looked expensive for a slave, but only because I knew mine were expensive for me.
The three vanished from view before the door thudded shut. A little black bug zipped toward me. Instead of buzzing, a high-pitched flapping sounded loud in my suddenly too-quiet dorm.
I swatted at the bug before turning to Rowan. “What’s a power slave?”
My big, soon-to-be boyfriend, hopefully, released his sword hilt, and a tremor passed through his massive frame. His eyes brimmed with raw, vulnerable fear.
Rowan pulled me into his chest and squeezed me hard. “You’re not hurt?”
I wrapped my arms around him. “No, why?”
Rowan grunted and looked at my bruised shoulder.
With everything that just went down with Erick, my most recent run-in with Brody, and the weird pull I felt to The Old Fortress, had left my mind.
I took a deep breath. “How do you know every time?” I rubbed just below the injury. “This is getting a little ridiculous.”
Rowan grunted again before taking a deep breath. “At least today, it was definitely a coincidence. I was already on my way over.”
At least today.
Rowan didn’t like to lie. He never told me that, but anyone could see it after spending five minutes in his presence. Something was going on that he didn’t want to talk about.
Rowan dropped onto my couch and shoved his magic into my heat cone. White replaced Erick’s coral.
“A power slave is someone who exists to help another do magic,” Rowan answered my first question, neatly avoiding whatever he was going through. “They either channel raw power into their masters or do whatever magic is needed for them. Remember the guys chained to the motorcycles?”
I bit my lips together and looked down.
“And what the Architect found at The Rooster isn’t much better.
” Rowan pulled a TB out of his pocket. The little scorched edge let me know it was definitely mine.
“No one should ever take this. Horax was grooming you.” Rowan squeezed my TB, and his knuckles turned white.
“I should have known the minute you went into the back that something was wrong, but I didn’t investigate.
I made a report and waited for others to act.
” His voice grew rough. “Horax was grooming you for slavery, Q-tip.”
I shivered and reached for my neck as the ice cold of the collar from my journey here made itself known once more. My journey here. Not a scenario. The spots on my lower back ached.
The blood drained out of Rowan’s face. He stepped forward and put his hand over mine, still resting on my neck.
“Q…” he whispered the letter before crushing his lips to mine.
My thoughts melted.
Rowan’s kiss started soft, exploratory, until the hunger between us ignited.
One hand slid down my back, deliberate and possessive, settling right where I ached.
His touch didn’t just soothe; it claimed.
I had no idea what I was doing, but it didn’t matter.
Rowan knew exactly what he wanted, and he took it.
His mouth molded to mine, stealing my breath, sending heat surging through me in throbbing waves. My pulse stuttered as he pulled me flush against him, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, slow and suggestive. He did it again, coaxing, and I realized he was waiting… asking.
When I parted my lips, he groaned, a low, shuddering sound that vibrated against my skin. Everything unraveled.
There was no one else. Just Rowan’s hands on my body, his mouth on mine, and the dizzying, overwhelming truth that nothing had ever felt this good. Not even close.
Rowan pulled back, making the space between us feel empty. He guided me to the couch before grabbing two of Erick’s fancy hand-blown glass cups from my kitchenette. He poured out two measures of whatever Erick had been drinking and joined me on the couch.
Thought finally seeped back in.
“That was my first kiss,” I said to the glass I didn’t remember taking out of his hand.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Rowan captured my chin and kissed me again, this one soft and playful. I loved it so much I almost spilled the liquor.
“Horax could’ve taken you, Q-tip.” Rowan ran his big hands up my back, cupping the back of my neck and back down, as if he needed reassurance of my physical presence. “I don’t even want to think about that.”
I studied the blue edging of my glass before taking a sip. The first taste burned; however, a sweet apple-honeysuckle washed away the fire, leaving me with a cool, tingling sensation.
Rowan ran his hand up my back and cupped my neck before bringing our foreheads together.
“Please, baby, please stop doing everything alone.” His gaze hardened.
“What you owed Horax was a drop in the bucket for Everly. Brit would have beaten the shit out of the staff and taken your TB by force. Commander Ezra and I could have raided the place the next day.”
My stomach twisted, and my eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to fix it. I didn’t want to be anyone’s problem... a burden, again.”
Rowan released my neck, and I leaned back.
“I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You’re not a burden. You’re neither of those things.” Rowan raised a single finger and pressed it to my lips. “Problems are situations and broken weapons, not people.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. I didn’t know how to respond to that.
Rowan groaned. “And that’s why you needed to sell your clothing.” He poked his cheek with his liquor glass. “But you need magic to count it, which you can’t use, and I just hadn’t pieced it together until this very moment.”
I bit my lips together.
“Off,” Rowan said. “We’re fixing this right now.”
“Like get off?” I asked, batting my eyes and wiggling my hips.
Rowan let out the most pained groan I’d ever heard, and I swear his dick jumped toward me.
“I won’t.” He finished his drink. “I shouldn’t. You’re worth doing this right for, Q-tip.” Rowan squeezed my hip.
You’re worth doing this right for.
Rowan’s words echoed through me, and I melted. He wasn’t looking for some quick emotional hook-up; he wanted me because I was worth it.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I brushed it away. This was too much, too intense, too soon. I stood before I could become a blubbering mess of insecurity.
“To the money.” I slid to my bed and the desk under it.
Rowan had to duck to follow. We shifted clumsily, knees bumping, shoulders brushing, until I ended up half on his lap, balanced on one leg so we could both reach the desk.
He tapped a small cauldron tucked against the wall, one I hadn’t even noticed, and soft white fog spilled out, curling around our feet. The glow was faint, just enough to see, but it made everything feel quieter. Closer.
Heat radiated off him; his steadiness anchored me. My pulse shouldn’t have been that loud. It wasn’t the magic that stole my breath—it was him.
“Not the entire bag?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t understand how much things cost, and after you leave, I still can’t count it. I’ll start with the basics. Big numbers don’t help, at least not yet, unless I still owe The Rooster?”
“You don’t.” Rowan’s free hand was back on my hip, as if he never wanted to let go. He rubbed up and down my side. “The Architect cleared every debt Horax held. That bastard had three other trainees’ TBs in addition to yours.”
I sucked in a surprised breath. Relief washed across me. I wasn’t alone. I cringed a little, not that I was happy he’d taken advantage of others, but not being unique in this sense made me feel less stupid.
“What’s going on in that little brain of yours?” Rowan asked.
I explained.
Rowan kissed my cheek. “Horax is very skilled at taking advantage of people, and he’s been doing it right under the Architect’s nose for years. He owned The Rooster before we took the castle. I don’t know if we can tally up the number of our trainees he exploited or trafficked from our ranks.”
I took a shaky breath.
“You’ve done nothing wrong.” Rowan rubbed my back. “But learn from this. We all feel guilty for not helping you. We didn’t even know you needed it. You’re not alone and you’re not a burden.“
Tears pooled in my eyes again, but good ones. I had friends. I wasn’t just a crazy inconvenience trying to hide from the world anymore.
I didn’t know how to express half of what I was feeling, so I gestured to my little pile of gold. “Can you split this into basics for me?”
Rowan touched each coin, running magic through it before sorting them into piles. The breakfast Xan bought me was almost three times as much as a sandwich from Wicked Wich.
He stacked the coins, then nudged two aside. “I’m picky. Muscle needs clean protein. If you cook, you’ll spend far less.”
I nodded. I didn’t know what my future held, but blowing all my money now seemed reckless. I could keep my meals simple at least until I had magic and knew where I stood with the Architect.
I slipped off his lap and glided back to the couch.
Rowan followed me and handed me my TB. “This is yours. No one has the right to take it from you. Repeat my words.”
I did.
“Would it be a good idea for me to at least look at this Architect?” I asked. “He’s been awake for over a week now, and I’m still drifting, waiting for something to happen. Should I go to The Rooster and thank him? He did kinda save me.”
Rowan shook his head. “He’s interrogating the staff and getting Hope set up to keep the place running. He’s tied up.” Rowan’s lips flattened into a line. “As far as meeting him. I won’t question the actions of the Architect.”
I blinked a few times. “That makes it sound like you don’t like something he’s doing.”
Rowan grunted, and the cone in the center of the room flickered with soft white. He refilled our cups and put his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. I loved it.
“I think it’s time we exchanged some war stories,” Rowan said. “I have three brothers, two older and one younger. Being a middle child is where it’s at.”
I snorted. “Only child, and it sucked. I was my dad’s world. It wasn’t healthy.”
“No?” Rowan asked. “You don’t think a beautiful, powerful, smart daughter should be the center of a father’s universe?”
My heart raced with his compliments, but at the same time, my shoulders fell. “Family’s very complicated. And I’m not any of those things.”
Rowan kissed the top of my head. “You are all of them, Q-tip, and more. And we’re going to sit on this couch and drink until you believe it.”