Chapter 41
Glade waited quietly in my arms as the bath ran, and I found myself lost. She’d just been smiling, watching a video of Lucy, and my brain couldn’t manage it.
She’d almost died, and now she was smiling?
Her fingers wove gently through my locs, and the feeling of it elicited an unexpected purr from my chest. She picked through a few at the front until she found her favourite one—a set of two that had combined.
“They’re so long now,” she said. “I’m glad you still have them.”
She’d always loved them. There were moments in the last few years when I’d considered getting rid of them. But they carried pieces of my life—memories that sometimes I wanted to rid myself of.
I never could do it.
There were so many pieces of that story that made me who I was; the Brotherhood, the grief of being betrayed by everyone I’d known. The grief of losing her, and then the aching weight in my heart when I’d almost lost Kyan, too. But, I’d held onto all of it, afraid of keeping it, but far more afraid of the person I’d be without it all, because it wasn’t possible to cut away the bad without shutting my eyes to the pieces I’d found.
A family. Unexpectedly. Against all odds.
One that never had and never would turn its back on me.
And now, she could be a part of that, too.
In hindsight, our lives were littered with evidence that we’d never let her go, no matter what we’d told ourselves. Maybe that was what had pushed Zed to go to the High Roller that night.
We’d all known we weren’t over her.
I reached down to the tub, which was more than full enough, and turned the taps off.
We’d drowned her in our scents, and still, traces of Ace remained. He’d scent-marked her. He must have, for the persistence of redwood and rose that still lingered.
I didn’t want him anywhere near her.
Never again.
Her skin lost a little colour as she glanced down to the bath and back to me. “You’re not going to leave, right?” she asked.
“If you want Kyan to help you, that’s fine.” She still wasn’t well enough for one of us not to be there. She frowned, glancing between us, and I felt her little flutter of insecurity.
There was a pause as I tried to work that out, but through the bond, I could feel her nerves spiking.
Oh, shit.
She seemed on the verge of tears. “I can wait for him to be done,” she said. “If you’d rather not?—”
“No.” I cleared my throat. Looking back up at her, I realised what was making her uncomfortable. “I want to help you, Princess. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me.”
“I do,” she whispered.
I was being stupid.
Her want for us had transcended consciousness, a want so fierce and deep that even on the brink of death, she’d accepted the offer of a bond. A bond that had saved her.
No, the question wasn’t if she wanted us; it was if we could ever be worthy of a love that fierce.
Kyan was right about how wounded she was. Until this sickness had passed, we wouldn’t let go of her. Not for a second.
“Do you want me to help you take this off, or can you manage it?”
Her eyes darted between mine, and for a moment, she was slipping away, dark cardamom turning unnaturally sharp.
“Glade,” I breathed, needing to ground her. What was surfacing was feral and dangerous.
She took a breath, nails digging into my skin. “You… saw them?”
Her scars.
I knew, without having to ask. The ones that sent spikes of ice through my veins when I saw them, vile hatred grinding down the edges of my sanity to the feral Alpha below.
“They’re yours, Glade,” I said, drawing her up to look at me, not letting her miss a second of this. “You tell me what you need. If you want to talk about them, or not, I’m here. If you don’t want us to, we’ll never bring them up again, but I never want you thinking you have to be ashamed of them.”
It took a while before she nodded.
I dropped my hand, checking the water, and when I straightened, she was tugging at the hem of her shirt.
I helped her out of it, not taking my hand from her waist the whole time, trying to keep my gaze from drifting where it certainly didn’t deserve to drift right now.
She had been out for three days. Long enough that the bandages had come off the wounds along her hands and wrists. But the scabs were angry.
They’d leave her with more scars for life.
Scars she’d given herself to save Zed.
I steadied her as she stepped into the huge tub with jets rippling bubbles about, the water breaking over each perfect curve as she sank in. She’d turned toward me, and I wondered if it was for fear of revealing the scars again.
“Knight?” she asked, peering up at me.
“Yeah…” There was very little left in my brain as I stared down at her, though my instincts fired off in panic as I saw her dark brows bunch. A quiver returned to her lip, the hand still clutching my wrist becoming demanding.
She didn’t need to ask; I just… I hadn’t because… Actually, the reasons were foggy as I tugged my shirt and pants off, unsure about the boxers. But she all but growled at me when I tried to get in without removing them.
“I’m yours, Princess,” I said, and her breathing settled as I sank into the water at her side. It was designed more like a hot tub than a bath, with jets and seats along the edges.
I had to remind myself how much she needed our touch to heal the wounds the suppressant had left behind.
That wasn’t fair.
“We move at your pace, Glade. I’ll be whatever you need.”
“R-Really?” She blinked at me as if I’d just dropped a bomb on her. A frown creased her brow, and her cream cardamom scent was made of silk, wrapping me tight. In it was an edge of need and claim like I’d never felt before.
By the way she was chewing on her lip, eyes narrowed, I suddenly realised… Oh… Damn. With the hormones still raging, I think she’d taken my words in the opposite direction than I’d meant them…
Uh… she definitely had. She drew herself over me, droplets tumbling down glistening skin. My eyes were drawn down her neck to where her breasts were still free of the water as she stared down at me, knees on either side of my lap. Her dark hair made up two curtains, creating our own little world as I forced my gaze back up into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, chest heaving, only she looked unsure, like instinct had guided her here, but now she’d stopped to think.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She let out a little hiss, nails digging into my flesh. “Kyan said you’re… mine…” She frowned, as if unsure whether it was a question or a statement, palm lifting from my chest and cupping my throat instead.
A growl of approval rumbled to life in my chest and the anxiety drained away a bit. “Of course I’m yours.”
That wasn’t a question.
For a moment, she was suspended between two halves of all she was. One, fragile and wounded, trying to hold herself together from years of darkness. The other, the queen who’d protected us, giving up everything to keep us safe—the Alphas she’d claimed, even when we hadn’t known it.
She was the strongest person I’d ever met. Stubborn, resilient, fierce. And she’d shattered for us. The scars on her back were a testament to that. I knew what they meant. I wasn’t foolish enough to find a claim within those marks—not one for which I could take credit.
Glade had fought through all of those heats to keep what was hers. We were hers because she’d chosen us, and it was that choice she’d never let him have. Not even in the face of agony.
It was why every touch of my skin against hers made me ache to draw her closer. It was why she was sick.
Plus, I was a little nervous to deny the latter half; a distant storm clouding the back of her eyes and reminding me that she was wounded, not weak—and Glade was pretty damned dangerous when fucked with.
“I’m yours forever, Princess,” I said, leaning down and grazing my teeth along her forearm, where she still gripped my neck in a way that sent an unnatural amount of blood to my cock. That storm dissipated, her scent smoothing out as her lip caught in her teeth and she pressed me back with one hand. The other reached down, curling into a fist around my base.
Well. Shit.
She sank down over my length, a little whine rising in her chest that was so hot it made my blood turn to lava.
I groaned. She was so tight, even as she lifted that perfect body back up, right to the tip. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn’t move, desperate for her to claim me however she needed.
She slid closer, knees bumping against the tub wall as she sank back down, both arms now draping around my neck as she took me all the way to the knot, a dazed look in her eyes.
I growled, fingertips brushing her hips.
She let out another whine, squeezing me so tight I almost came then. She arched against me, round breasts glistening with water as she settled right over my knot, a look of bliss in her eyes.
“That’s my girl,” I breathed, returning my arms around her.
She was calm, at last, amidst the silence, and it was a long time before I spoke, knowing what I needed to say. Knowing it wasn’t enough.
“I’m…” This didn’t feel right. The word wasn’t enough. “I’m so sorry we were never there.” I was shaking, having gone through these words over and over in my mind, trying and failing to find a combination that was right. That she deserved. “Not one of us ever stopped loving you. We haven’t been able to, no matter how much we…” I swallowed, not wanting to say it. To risk hurting her more.
“I know you hated me,” she whispered. “I needed you to.”
“I’ll still never forgive myself for it.”
A smile wobbled on her lips. “That would be really mopey of you.”
I snorted, dragging her closer, arms winding around her waist as she sank against my chest. “I’m so sorry, Glade.”
It felt hollow beside what she’d given us—beside what she kept giving.
The worst part was that I didn’t know if we would have survived. If Ace had truly figured out what Kyan had done to Joshua Maverick, Zed’s father, if he’d had proof, we would have been corpses that night. But she’d found the one path to save us, and taken it. Even though it had cost her everything.
“I forgive you,” she whispered. “I did a long time ago.”
I shut my eyes, chest aching. She should never have had to.
“Where’s Zed?” she asked.
I frowned. I knew she had already asked that of Kyan. “He’s… taking some space.”
The fact was, I didn’t know where he was, and Kyan wouldn’t tell me—which meant he was likely doing something stupid.
“Does he not…?” I saw a flash of worry in her eyes.
I frowned, trying to work that out.
“Does he not what?”
She shrank, eyes darting around. Her pupils were still dilated, hormones clearly still raging in her system. “He’s… he’s my pack leader now. And I just…”
Her brows creased in the most heartbreaking frown. Her next words were as quiet as a wisp. “I haven’t felt him in the bond… I thought he would have wanted to see me by now.”
“No—Princess.” I drew her chin up to look at me, shaking my head. “He wants you. He’s just… So much happened. He’s processing.”
That didn’t seem to settle her. “O-Okay.”
“He was in here—he wouldn’t leave your side.”
A little relief flashed in her eyes as she processed that. “Then… why isn’t he here now?”
She didn’t remember. Hormones or drugs, or both, I wasn’t sure, but I was glad she didn’t. The image of her pleading with him, unable to let him go, screaming when I’d pulled her away, trying to give herself up over and over, it would never leave my mind.
“It’s not because he doesn’t want you—I promise. He wants you so much, but it’s killing him, learning what you went through for us. It’s worse for him. It’s his pack, his brother—just give him time. And he was the one—” My breath caught. I could still feel the echo of Zed’s grief like a twisting dagger in the heart. We’d all felt it, but he… he had seen it. “Me and Kyan will be here until then. We won’t leave your side.”
Slowly, she nodded, curling back up against my chest, and I drew her into a bear hug, my purr strong enough that it made the faintest little quakes upon the surface of the water. She was fragile right now, and there was only so much my words could do. She needed to see it from him herself.
“He’ll be back, Glade, I promise.”