Chapter 39
Roxy
His scent hits me first. Musk, amber, and leather, a combination that has me pressing my lips against his skin before I'm fully awake. Then comes the sound he makes, something between a rumble and a growl, as his hand tightens around my waist and drags me closer.
"You're suffocating me," I mumble, my voice still thick with sleep.
"Good." His words come out rough, scratchy. "At least now you know what every day feels like for me."
I can't stop the smile that spreads against his throat.
A buzz cuts through the quiet, and I jolt upright, scanning the room for my phone. Last night after we cleaned up, we ate dinner and crashed. My phone has to be here somewhere.
When I finally spot Aria's name lighting up the screen, I wish I'd left it on silent.
I drag in a breath and accept the call.
"Yes, Aria."
"Dad wanted me to confirm you're still coming in two days."
The disappointment settles heavy in my chest, knowing he couldn't be bothered to call or text me himself and instead sent Aria to do his chores.
"I'll be there," I say, turning toward the man watching me with sharp attention. "Actually, I'll be bringing my husband."
Would it make me terrible if I admitted I wanted to be there right now, standing next to her, watching her face crumble? Probably not.
"Your husband?" The shock rings clear through the phone.
Damien moves behind me, his chest against my back.
"I love hearing those words from your lips, s?onko."
Being the devoted wife I am, I make him happy.
"Yes. My husband. We'll be there in two days. Tell Ivette I'd prefer Damien not spend the evening with food poisoning, so she should skip making her ‘famous’ pasta."
I don't wait for her reply or for her to tell me that I'm exaggerating, that I'm selfish for not inviting them to the wedding. I haven't been to therapy, but I don't need a degree to recognize their patterns.
If I complained about anything, suddenly I was ungrateful for all their hard work keeping me in dance classes or school.
If Aria got something I wanted, I was selfish for not celebrating my sister's joy.
Though they only pulled out that sister card when it suited them.
The rest of the time? They made damn sure I knew I was extra baggage.
The piece that didn't fit in their perfect little family picture.
"So I’m about to meet the in-laws," Damien murmurs against my neck.
"Unfortunately." I close my eyes.
I want to stay here. Inside these four walls where there's no serial killer hunting me. Where he doesn't have Council votes weighing on his shoulders. Where my family can't reach me.
A knock echoes through the room, and reality crashes back in.
"Damien, it's urgent." Vasili's voice carries through the door.
Damien lets out a low protest but pulls back anyway. Cold air rushes in where his warmth had been, and I hate how much I already miss his touch.
He slips into the bathroom and comes back moments later, tugging a black shirt over his head.
I let myself really look at him in the morning light.
Ink swirls across his arms, neck, and chest in intricate patterns.
A silver hoop in his ear catches the light, and with those dark waves falling over his forehead, he's dangerous. Devastating. Mine.
"Keep staring like that and you're going to make me blush, baby."
"Impossible. You're too shameless for that." I stand, needing to get ready myself. I have calls to make for Marco's party, and I want to see Luna today.
"True." He catches my wrist as I pass. "So please, keep undressing me with your eyes."
When I glance back, he winks and heat floods my face.
I retreat to the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening as I force myself to meet my own gaze in the mirror.
Cover those dark circles. Look at your skin. It's so dry. So pale. God, you can't let anyone see you like this.
Aria's call stirred all of this up, but even knowing that, I can’t make it stop right away. After a few slow, steady breaths, the whispers finally start to fade, slipping back into the background where they belong.
When I emerge looking halfway human, Damien is leaning against the doorframe like he's been there for a while, waiting.
"I thought you left."
"Not without saying goodbye." He closes the distance between us in two easy strides. "I'll be home for dinner."
My heart kicks hard against my ribs.
I nod and press a soft kiss to his cheek, my lips lingering for a second longer than they should. "Be careful," I whisper against his skin.
"I'm leaving two men with you today." His fingers brush my temple as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, a gesture so gentle it almost hurts. Then he's gone, the space he leaves behind feeling too big, too empty.
"Thank God you're here to rescue me," Luna says when I walk into Roman's house.
"From what?" I laugh at her exasperated expression.
"From my control freak fiancé, who would monitor my breathing if he could."
Guilt knifes through me. This is my fault. Because of what happened with The Bloody Dahlia.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's just Roman jumping at the excuse to watch me twenty-four seven." She grins. "Though I won't lie, I'm using it to keep him home more."
My smile comes more easily now. If anyone deserves happiness, it's her. I watched Aidan, her ex, destroy her piece by piece. Watched the cops dismiss her when she begged for help. Watched her fall asleep with tears still wet on her cheeks, watched her flinch at every notification on her phone.
I was there through all of it. If the universe owes anyone peace, she's first in line.
"There's something different about you." She studies me carefully.
"Is there?"
"Yeah. You have this...oh. Oh my God." Her grin turns wicked as she drops into an armchair. "You have that look."
"What look?" I touch my face instinctively.
"The postorgasmic glow."
I grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her head.
"Stop it."
My face burns and I refuse to meet her eyes, knowing she'll see the stupid smile trying to break free.
"I can see you anyway. Roxy, look at me."
"I don't want to hear it, Luna R?dulescu. Not one word."
Her laughter fills the room. When she finally catches her breath, she hugs the pillow to her chest. She's drowning in an oversized blue sweater, those round glasses from high school perched on her nose, and a determined look on her face that says I'm not escaping this conversation.
"Fine. It is a postorgasmic look. Post-best-orgasm-of-my-life look." The words rush out. "I never thought sex could feel like that. I'm not exactly a prude but—"
"With him it was different." Luna's voice goes soft, understanding warming her gaze.
"Yes. There was an emotional connection, and I've officially lost my mind saying that out loud."
"Wow. Never thought I'd hear you put soul and sex in the same sentence."
"Don't your cheeks hurt from smiling? And when have I ever—" I shake my head. "Something's wrong. Maybe my birth control expired and my hormones are freaking out. Or the stress—"
"Or maybe you finally found your person. The one meant for you."
I love you. Those three words he said last night with such certainty make me want to tell him he's wrong, that he can't possibly feel that way about me. But I can't bring myself to say it. It would feel like a betrayal—because from the very first moment, this man has made me feel truly cherished.
"Maybe," I murmur, looking down.
"What does an orgasm feel like?"
Luna and I both freeze. Victoria stands in the doorway with her hair in a messy ponytail and wearing a white hoodie, pink leggings, and what appear to be koala slippers twice the size of her head. She's clutching a book as thick as a dictionary.
"Well, since you asked—" I start, but Luna launches from her seat and claps her hands over Victoria's ears.
"Hey!" Victoria protests.
"Vi, you know that throbbing vein Roman gets when he's stressed? If he hears you say that, it's gonna blow."
All three of us crack up.
"I'm nineteen, Luna. Shocking revelation, but I know where babies come from."
"No, trust me, you don't." Luna's voice goes serious. "Not when your brothers are near. If you want to leave this house without a security detail meant for the president, you still believe in storks."
Victoria gives her a sweet smile, waves at me, and heads upstairs muttering "tyranny."
I burst out laughing again.
Luna sinks back into the chair, gaze tracking Victoria's retreat.
"She's going to die alone. Can you imagine her bringing home a boyfriend? To Roman? Maksim? Niko?"
"Let's hope the poor guy owns body armor and has connections upstairs."
"Yeah." She sounds genuinely worried.
The truth is, whoever wants Victoria will have to survive a war to get past her brothers.
And not just them. Luna would spill blood for that girl. Hell, even I'd grab a bat. And I know Julia's already shopping for weapons with the unlucky bastard's name on them.
Good luck, kid.