Chapter Forty-Four
CASSIA
I REFUSE TO leave Rexton’s bedroom as he sleeps. I should’ve brought him to my apartment, but I’m not prepared for that. My place isn’t ready for guests, and I need time to come to terms with allowing a new person into my bedroom.
It’s a big step, one I don’t take lightly.
Rexton has been loose with his bedroom, and while his previous lovers may not have any desire to kill him, they can still be bribed.
Prince Nolic is somewhere out there, very likely within Wrath.
It would be too easy for him to learn the whereabouts of Rexton’s bedroom and attack while my mate is most vulnerable.
Rexton needs me.
My head bobs, and the cold washcloth I’ve been using to keep myself alert falls to the ground with a wet slap. I jerk awake. Fuck. That’s the third time that’s happened.
I’m not going to make it through the night.
I didn’t want to do this. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, then teleport to Lust. David’s chateau smells familiar, so fucking familiar. I refuse to think too deeply about it, and I focus exclusively on the task at hand as I storm toward his bedroom.
My brother is asleep in bed. There’s a man beside him. I refuse to look.
“David!”
My brother jerks awake, panic-stricken. He’s fully dressed, something I wasn’t expecting, and he scampers out of bed like a fucking rat. I stand at the foot of his bed, my arms crossed over my chest. I’m not angry, but I have every right to be.
“Cassia?” David sounds confused. Alarmed. “What’s going on?”
The body in his bed moves, and the man beside my brother sits up with alarming speed. He’s also fully dressed, another thing I’m not expecting. His eyes dart between me and my brother before he vanishes altogether, probably teleporting back to Wrath like the coward he is.
I refuse to acknowledge it—acknowledge him.
“Come with me,” I order David. “To Rexton’s.”
I leave before he responds. Teleporting back to Rexton’s living room is painful, my body beyond exhausted, but I’ll be damned if I ask David to bring me there. I’m already annoyed with this situation, but I have nobody else to turn to.
David appears in Rexton’s living room a few seconds after me.
“What’s going on?” He looks around, scanning the silent, dark room. “Is somebody hurt?”
I sigh, gesturing toward Rexton’s bedroom. “No. I need you to—”
I freeze as David scurries forward, inviting himself into my personal space. His nostrils are flaring, and the corners of his lips twitch when he gets close.
“You naughty girl.” He laughs. “Does Mom know you’re fucking her best friend?”
No, and that’s a problem for future me to deal with. I haven’t spoken to Mom about Rexton. I probably should’ve found time to do so before things became serious, but it’s too late for that.
I’ve already bonded with the man.
“Rexton’s injured, and I’m falling asleep,” I say. “I need you to keep watch.”
“Keep watch?” David pauses, cocking his head to the side. “I didn’t realize you were still doing that. Are you feeling—”
“I don’t need your judgment. Can you keep watch or not?”
David lifts his hands in surrender. “Yes. I will keep watch over you and your sleeping lover.”
Good. I point to the couch, showing him where he can wait. I’d typically force him to guard us from the bedroom, but Rexton is shirtless. He wouldn’t want David seeing his back, so David will stay out here. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing.
I wait for David to sit before returning to Rexton’s bedroom. My mate hasn’t moved. I want to touch his wound. I want to funnel my power into him until it’s healed, but I don’t have much to spare. I’m exhausted.
I slip into bed beside him, hating how much I enjoy the scent of his sheets.
I don’t smell any other women. It’s entirely Rexton, and I really fucking like that. I’m afraid I can be quite possessive, and I’m unsure how Rexton will take that. Some men appreciate it. Some don’t.
Rexton shifts as I get comfortable, but he doesn’t wake.
It further supports my decision to have David keep watch. Rexton’s a heavy sleeper, and it would be too easy for somebody to murder him. It’s truly a miracle he’s survived this long in the first place.
I have a room at David’s, but he’s promised never to allow another person to enter it. I have a room at Valeria’s, too, but I don’t trust the fates, so I don’t particularly enjoy staying with her.
It’s hard to relax enough to fall asleep, but eventually, I have no choice. Exhaustion wins, and I slip into darkness. I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but the sun is shining through the windows when I come to.
Rexton’s staring at me. He’s rolled onto his side, his black eyes unblinking as he watches me come to consciousness.
“Why is your brother in my living room?”
I rub my eyes. “What?”
“Your brother. Why is he in my living room?”
“He’s keeping watch.” I sit up, my back cracking. Rexton winces. Does he not like that? Too bad. It’s a human trait my mother bestowed upon me, one of the few I enjoy. Cracking is satisfying. “How do you feel?”
He looks better. He’s still not fully healed, but the skin around his wound is no longer red and inflamed. I gesture for him to sit up so I can look at his back. Rexton groans, then does as I command. His scars are prominent, but I’m no longer shocked by the sight of them. I focus on his wound.
“It looks good,” I say.
Rexton hums. “It feels better.”
We fall silent. What now? I don’t know how to be around Rexton.
Am I supposed to be mushy? Should I shower him in compliments and tell him how much I enjoyed sleeping beside him? Should I ask if he’s hungry? Should I do nothing at all?
I’ve never been in this situation.
“You look frightened,” Rexton says.
I shrug, climbing out of bed. David’s being loud, pattering around and probably snooping through things he shouldn’t be snooping through. I’ll ask him later if he found anything of interest.
“Go home!” I shout.
“You’re welcome!”
The noise from the living room vanishes. I turn back to Rexton. “I should leave to get ready for work.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. “I’ll see you later.”
I teleport to my apartment, already cursing myself. I’ve made things weird.
How should I act around Rexton while we’re at work? Should I act as I used to? The last time we were there, we openly hated one another. Well, I openly hated Rexton. He did his best to avoid me.
I publicly insulted him. I mocked his shadow form, and I brought up his parents’ abuse to win an argument. People are still icing me out because of it. I deserve it. After seeing his back and realizing just how horrible his family was, the memory of my insult makes me nauseous with self-disgust.
I had no idea what I was saying.
Do people already know we’re mated? Do they think I forced him into it? Probably. I’m the one who bit him, and he has yet to return the favor. They’ll think he’s a victim.
Is he?
My heart pounds, and I struggle to regulate my breathing as I rip off my clothing and change into something clean. I’m fully panicking; I’m aware of that. I can’t stop it, and I drag my hands through my hair as I focus on my furniture.
My rug is old, with ripped corners and frayed edges.
I’ve always loved its simple pattern and hints of red woven throughout.
It was one of the first pieces I purchased after moving out of my childhood home.
The top drawer of my dresser is cracked open, as it usually is.
I own too many pairs of underwear, which overfill the drawer. It rarely shuts.
I inhale through my nose, count to ten, then exhale through my mouth.
The mirror above my vanity is smudged. I touch it more than I should, and my fingerprints are scattered across the surface. It’s not a great look.
What will Rexton think when he sees it? His home was tidy. I try my best, but I live in clutter. Things are clean, but they aren’t neat. He might not want to live with me. He’s going to reject my offer.
People at work will hear about it. They’re going to laugh at me. They’ll enjoy hearing about Rexton rejecting me. They’ll talk about it behind my back.
Rexton appears. He’s in front of me in a heartbeat, soaking wet and hastily dressed, and he takes half a second to look me over before pulling me against his chest. Our bond is wide open, and I shrink into myself as I realize I’ve been sharing my panic with him.
I wiggle, trying to escape his grip.
“How did you get here?” I ask.
He shouldn’t be able to teleport into my bedroom, not smoothly.
He doesn’t know the specific location, nor does he know the furniture layout.
He can sure try—any demon can—but he has no idea where he’ll land.
His entrance was too smooth, and it’s not a coincidence that he landed perfectly in front of me.
“I can feel you through the bond,” he says. “I followed it here.”
He cups the back of my head, holding it steady. I’m faintly aware I’m shaking, and I bite my tongue as I realize my face is wet. I was crying. I let myself cry within the privacy of my bedroom, but I wouldn’t have done so if I’d known Rexton would come barging in.
“Tell me what’s happening,” Rexton orders. “What are you thinking?”
I shake my head, refusing. My insecurities are none of his concern.
Rexton pulls back to look at me, and I angrily wipe my cheeks. He doesn’t understand. He purses his lips, his thumbs stroking beneath my eyes, before bringing his mouth to my neck. I stiffen as he peppers kisses along the column of my throat. Is he going to bite me?
“Tell me what you need,” he mumbles into my skin. “Talk to me.”
I extend my neck, silently communicating.
Rexton tuts. “Tell me with your words.”
“No.”
“Is this about Prince Nolic? Are you nervous he’ll hurt you or somebody you care about?”
I refuse to answer.
Rexton tries again. “Are you nervous that people are going to judge the decisions you made during the ambush?”
No. I’m not pleased with the number of deaths and injuries that occurred under my watch, but Aziel would’ve told me if he was displeased.
He’s always been honest. Raum seemed pleased, too, and I didn’t sense any hostility from the other generals.
The ambush might not have been a smashing success, but nobody is disappointed with me.
I can live with that, and I’ll do better next time.
Rexton licks his lips. “Is it our bond?” Something in my expression must give me away, because Rexton nods as if he’s settled on that being the truth. “Are you worried about what people will say? How can I help?”
This is hitting too close to home, and I don’t appreciate it.
I shove Rexton away, careful to avoid injuring his chest.
“I’m worried they’re going to wonder why I dragged you into my mess,” I admit. My voice cracks. I ignore it. “I made a mistake, and I wish you’d stop bothering me about it.”
I place the thickest barrier I can manage between our bond.
It takes Rexton almost no time to respond. I’m expecting a snarky remark, maybe some sneaky words meant to make me feel guilty, but Rexton does nothing of the sort.
He grabs my bicep and rips me close, then sinks his teeth into my neck.
I flail, a silent gasp slipping from my throat as Rexton wraps his thick arms around my waist to keep me steady.
He’s rough, digging his teeth deep into my flesh.
Fuck. My tense muscles instinctively relax, and I sink into his arms as he licks over the fresh mark.
It stings, but in a way that I appreciate.
Rexton drags his mouth to my ear, his voice low. “I’ll always give you what you need, Cassia.”
He releases me. I remain frozen.
“I—” I don’t know what to say. I settle for shoving my hair behind my shoulder to expose my neck. “Again.”
Rexton licks his lips. His mouth is red, hints of my blood staining his skin. My heart stutters as he smiles, and I let myself moan as his sharp teeth find their way into my throat for the second time.