Lucille #3
And I did.
I spent a good portion of the night coming to terms with my emotions.
With all my emotions.
“How?” he demanded.
The door opened behind him.
“I’d like to know that same damn answer.”
Ronen stood behind Aspen in full uniform, face a cold mask, drilling his dark gaze into the back of his head.
Heavenly Shit times two.
“What are you doing in their rooms?” I asked.
“What else were you about to say?” he countered.
Something I wouldn’t be discussing in front of both of them at the same time.
But I could answer his other question.
Although it wasn’t Ronen’s business, Aspen didn’t seem like he cared, not with the silent plea in the crease of his brow.
I took his spasming hands in mine, sighing as I felt the tingles.
But not with relief.
“I forgive you, even though you lied to me, verbally abused me, sexually abused me, pushed me away, and broke my heart,” I said, refusing to sugarcoat it.
His tremors worsened with each word.
“Because you freed me.”
“What?”
He lifted our joined hands as if to point out our forced bond.
I dared to peer at Ronen.
His bottomless black gaze fixed on where we touched.
Then I turned back to Aspen.
“I would’ve never found home without you,” I whispered, feeling the truth of my words.
A certain understanding smoothed Aspen’s desperate lines.
But I wasn’t sure it was the right understanding.
He gave my hands a squeeze and looked about ready to pull me into his arms when a large skeletal head pushed between us.
Startled, I jumped back, memories of the Hellhound attack resurfacing.
“It’s—”
“A Soulhound,” Ronen assured, his body turned in the doorway as if he’d let it through.
“My… potential Soulhound,” Aspen explained.
“He’s been wandering the castle grounds, scaring the Bowel patrols. I came to deliver him to his owner before he decided to devour them.”
The skeletal, wolf-like head nudged my clammy hand.
I awkwardly petted the smooth bone, smiling when it began to vibrate, as if he were purring.
“Does he have a name?” I asked.
The Soulhound wedged between Aspen and me, placing himself at my feet and tilting his head for more pets.
Subconsciously, I started scratching near his earhole and cringed as my fingernails scraped against the hard surface.
He seemed to absolutely love it, though.
“Hadrian.”
Ronen scrutinized Aspen. “You already know his name?”
“He gave it to me… yes.”
I frowned at Aspen’s clumsy sentence.
He gave it to him when? Now?
And why did Ronen seem so shocked?
Before I could ask, a rumbling growl sounded behind Hadrian.
Rune lay on her stomach, nipping at Hadrian’s ankles, trying to shove past him and the rest of the barricading males to get to me.
Hadrian, quite literally, paid her no mind, happily seeking more of my attention.
I laughed.
Rune snarled, shot to her feet, and bounded on top of his bony spine.
Before their massive bodies could careen into me, Aspen jerked me out of the way.
Then, quicker than I thought possible, Hadrian pinned Rune, his teeth wrapping around her throat, a guttural growl rolling out of him. He didn’t hurt her, but he sure put her in her place. By her vicious snarls, she didn’t think so.
Ronen snapped his fingers, and Rune’s noise begrudgingly died down.
“Get your Soulhound off mine, pet.”
Hadrian whipped around and snapped his teeth at Ronen.
The door squeaked as he tried to step back. His mask didn’t twitch a bit, but the retreat was telling enough.
I slid a hand over my mouth to hide my smile. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who despised Ronen’s nickname for Aspen. Nor was I the only one in his corner anymore.
Oliver and MJ were great, but Oliver helped Aspen for my sake, and MJ had her own motives. Plus, her help only went so far. She’d always choose Ronen over Aspen.
For the first time, Aspen had someone just looking out for him.
Hope whispered through me, carving thin fissures in the stone weight pressing on my chest.
I wanted to ask so many questions.
When he found him. Where. Why he looked so different from Rune.
There was a story here I was missing, but feeling lighter than I had in weeks and knowing I was on a time crunch, I changed the subject.
“Ronen, I need the key to the dungeons.”
“Why?” he asked, keeping one eye on Hadrian.
“Ichi should be allowed to see her sister.”
“Okay.”
That was it?
No argument? No having to sneak into his room and steal the key?
“Okay?”
“You expected I’d say no?”
“Ichi said she wasn’t allowed to see her sister,” I explained.
“The king is particular about who enters the dungeons.”
“And you’re still okay with letting me go?”
He moved around Hadrian, his shadows circling his palms the only sign of his nerves.
“Yes.”
That was easy.
I held out my hand, waiting for him to fish out the key.
“You think I’m going to allow you into the dungeons without me?”
And there was the catch.
“You’ve done it before.”
Ronen closed the space between us.
He grabbed my jaw, slowly lowering his face an inch.
“My dungeons.”
Another inch.
“My key.”
Just a breath from my lips.
“My cordistella,” he finished, challenge ringing in his tone.