Chapter 29
Nicholas
It’d been over a week since the incident in the sword room, and while Nicholas believed he’d gained the upper hand over his hunger and his gift, his feelings for Gabriel still cleaved at his heart.
He avoided him whenever possible, but the string connecting them would tug him around corners at odd hours of the night just to get a glimpse of him.
A glimpse of him swimming naked under the moonlight, smoking from the far edge of the cliff, and last night he’d quietly watched him sleep through the crack in his bedroom door. Gabriel never closed it completely.
It was to the point where he hoped he went unnoticed, but found it difficult to care. If Gabriel suspected or knew any of this, he didn’t give it away. That was enough for Nicholas. It had to be, because until he left from under Gabriel’s roof, it seemed he couldn’t stay away from him.
He’d drawn the line at enjoying Gabriel’s company, or conversing about matters that didn’t involve his leaving, or his thirst. It was too risky. Nicholas couldn’t afford another episode like the one in the basement.
He could still feel the effects of having Gabriel inside him, as if he’d imprinted himself there. And he still bolted upright in bed nightly after having relived the moment in his dreams, cold sweat and cum soaking through the sheets.
Nicholas thought about it all as he lurked just outside Gabriel’s bathroom, watching him soap and rinse himself through the rising steam.
He’d come to his room to turn down his invitation to dinner.
He’d found the note on his bedside table.
But he stayed because the bond dictated everything, including how much Nicholas wanted to be fucked right then, especially when Gabriel leaned a palm against the stone wall to get himself off.
The scent of Nicholas’s need formed a dense cloud around him, and he nearly knocked over a standing lamp while backing away. He staggered into the hall, hurrying to his room and into his own shower. He came hands-free before the cold water even hit him.
“Damn it,” he bit out. He’d forgotten to remove his clothes.
He stayed in the shower way too long, suffering through the pleasure of too many orgasms to count.
By the time he stepped out, feeling both spent and unsatisfied, the house already smelled like an array of herbs and spiced meat.
He couldn’t decline the invite now, or at least that was what he told himself.
A short while later, Nicholas stood in front of the mirror, blowing out a breath as he tucked and untucked his tank inside his dress slacks.
He pinched the loose fabric, realizing it was green, and remembering how it felt to have Gabriel know something so simple, yet complicated about him.
Something he hadn’t even realized about himself.
He closed his eyes, tapping into the pain of not having a mother, going back to the origin of that first wound.
Green was the only thing he knew about her.
Green was all she’d left him with. That meant something to him, even if he didn’t understand it.
Gabriel knew that. He’d paid attention, taken the time. He’d had the time to take.
Nicholas unspooled the length of ribbon he’d placed in his pocket. Now that he knew this was something that was all his, a piece of his life that hadn’t once been lived, he never wanted to part with it. Not with the ribbon, or the color green.
The edges were faded and frayed, but it was still in one piece. He quickly wrapped it around his wrist, fashioning it into a sort of bracelet.
With one last look in the mirror, he tucked his top in again, stopping to eye the area above his collarbone. Stepping in closer, he smoothed a finger over the dip in his bare neck, struck by the reminder of another loss.
Nicholas’s life would never be what it had been before, and although it hadn’t been much, hadn’t been easy, hadn’t felt completely his, there were remnants of it that would stick around forever, he feared.
Parts of it that he could never get back, parts he thought he didn’t want or need, but now understood he would always miss.
He traced his neck one last time before fisting his hand, the cool breeze of abandonment skimming over his skin.
Sighing, he laced into his sneakers and strode for the hall, passing the packed bags he kept by the bedroom door.
He had to be ready to leave when the moment arrived.
Any delays would allow him time to think, and that could be a dangerous thing.
The smell of food filled the hall, luring him toward the stairs. But it was the scent of iron-rich blood that made his mouth water.
Unlike weeks ago, he wasn’t filled with this sense of impatience, with the need to hunt down the source and tear it limb from limb. His thirst would be quenched in due time, and maybe he’d even hold off until dessert.
He was halfway down the stairs when Gabriel strolled into view, causing him to misstep. Nicholas stared open-mouthed.
Gabriel wore a green, ribbed polo shirt that clung to his sculpted torso and biceps, and a pair of charcoal slacks that fit his thighs in the same diabolical way.
He still looked expensive, but casual, and other than when naked, Nicholas had never seen him so informal before. Even his suede loafers were relaxed.
Was this a test? Did he want to see if Nicholas would hold up when presented with… this?
Nicholas clamped his jaw shut. It was either that or run the risk of drooling.
He swept his gaze over Gabriel’s forearms. Smooth, deep-brown skin, slightly veined. He even sported a light scruff. Was this going to be his new thing? Did he plan on walking the streets like this? Something vicious coiled inside Nicholas at the thought.
“You look indecent,” he snapped, eyes widening. “I mean, decent.”
Decent? His cheeks warmed.
“You look… nice. I meant to say you look nice.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel replied, seeming to fight his amusement. Nicholas narrowed his eyes as he made his way down the remaining stairs.
“I didn’t know you owned anything so…”
“Indecent?”
So he was making fun of him.
“I didn’t, but I thought maybe a change would be good.”
He sounded unsure, something Nicholas was positive no one ever got to see. No one but him. Gabriel may have lied to him by omission, but the one thing he’d never done was place emotional walls between them. Nicholas had built many.
Unable to help himself, he gave Gabriel another once-over, the temperature in his cheeks rising when Gabriel’s expression turned gratified. Whatever insecurity he’d had a second ago was now gone, and Nicholas strangely mourned it. It had made him seem… human.
“You look nice as well, but then you always do. I like your hair.”
Nicholas touched the ends of his braids.
“Thanks. Figured I’d run a comb through it, put some real clothes on. I’ve been walking around like a couch potato all month.”
“Your beauty comes from within, Nicholas.”
The blare of pulsing music saved him from the emotional conflict that Gabriel’s compliment promised.
“Who’s that?”
Gabriel released a long-suffering sigh as he headed for the front door. “Hamza.”
“You invited him?” Nicholas followed behind.
“Yes, and Marcus too.”
Hamza pulled up in a matte black muscle truck, windows tinted too dark for human eyes.
“You don’t like his choice of music, do you?”
“What he listens to is his prerogative, but must it be so loud?”
Nicholas tucked his lips in to hold back a smile. The only sound Gabriel enjoyed more than silence was the crashing of ocean waves.
Hamza climbed out of the truck, holding a pan of food. He was taller and broader than Gabriel. Built powerfully, like Muharib, more comparable to him in height and size.
Gabriel’s flawless looks were what caught and held the eye. His beauty wasn’t menacing; it was the sense that something ancient and cruel lurked beneath it that chilled the spine. Something that brought the phrases ‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing’ or ‘looks can be deceiving’ to mind. He was unsettling.
Hamza was striking, but in a brutal way. His cheeks seemed carved from rough stone, and his eyebrows slashed like knives. He looked like he’d been plucked off the battlefield of a forgotten era. His hair was the only thing that softened him. The end of his dark braid stretched down his back.
“Good seeing you, Nick.” His tone was gruff, but his gaze appeared playful.
“His name is Nicholas.”
“Nick is fine. My friend Mateo calls me Nick sometimes. Nicky too.”
He’d almost forgotten how grouchy Gabriel could be; that his infinite patience only extended to him—and sometimes Marcus.
Hamza eyed Gabriel’s attire with a raised brow. “New clothes?” His lips curved into a mocking grin. “You went to the mall, didn’t you?”
Gabriel leveled him with a warning look that he ignored.
“Shopped around a horde of mere mortals? Waited in lines?” he teased. “Did you go into the fitting rooms as well?”
Nicholas felt an odd need to defend Gabriel, a sudden protectiveness arising. He couldn’t deny that it was a little fun watching them behave like brothers, so he didn’t act on it. Besides, when else would he get the chance to see someone provoke Gabriel and not end up dead for it?
“It’s funny,” Gabriel quipped. “You mentioned you shopped there, but the only time I spotted anything from your wardrobe was when I passed a vagrant man on my way in.”
Hamza wore an olive-toned Henley—which complemented his medium-brown complexion—and well-worn jeans that suited his rugged personality. He’d fit right in at a dive bar or bikers’ club, and while he knew Gabriel didn’t believe himself too good to frequent either, he’d stick out like a sore thumb.
“What’s this?” Gabriel asked when Hamza shoved the pan he held at him. Whatever it was smelled spicy.
“Buffalo wings.”
“How utterly pedestrian of you,” Gabriel said dryly. “I told you not to bring anything.”
“Yeah, well, I know how stiff you are. Knew there wouldn’t be anything fun to eat at this dinner.”