Chapter 49 Out of the Frying Pan
Out of the Frying Pan
Sage
Ronan was warring with himself between wanting to get me alone versus not wanting to go back to Ignareth. He found a happy medium by deciding to wait until sunrise to leave, when Garrick and Rudy would shift back.
As dawn’s golden rays touched their thick fur, the werewolves disappeared, leaving two very naked men in their place.
But the seraphim were ready.
Naomi tossed them both some sweatpants with a scowl on her face. “Hurry up. The last thing I want to see is you two hanging knot.”
“You’d be so lucky,” Rudy replied with a wink. The beta werewolf was tall and well-built, with dark locks and that trademark werewolf body hair in all the right places.
As opposed to Garrick, who could easily be mistaken for wearing a shirt despite coming fresh from a shift.
Draven had left hours ago. He wasn’t one for sentimental goodbyes, apparently.
But Ella certainly was.
She squealed as she wrapped her arms around both me and Ronan, wiggling back and forth. “So happy for you guys! Come visit us in Halcyon, okay?”
She and Naomi looked identical, with their honey blonde locks, cherubic cheeks, petite frames, and bright blue eyes. But even without any scent, you could tell their designations just by their opposing expressions and postures alone.
“Good luck with everything, Ronan. It’ll be hard to replace you,” Naomi said, her body still and arms crossed.
Ronan nodded, his gaze darting towards his old handler. “Oh, I’m sure Garrick’s already got a folder full of resumes to start pulling from.”
The werewolf chuckled. “Hiring was on freeze while I fixed my mistake.” He opened his arms, gesturing for Ronan to come in. “Consider this your retirement gift.”
They hugged it out as best as two alphas could, which meant awkward pats on the back. But before Ronan could turn around, Garrick grabbed his cheeks and kissed him right on the lips.
I bit back my laugh as Ronan sputtered and pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell was that for?”
“Just checking,” he said with a wide grin. “You’re right—it is funny.”
* * *
As soon as the goodbyes were over, the Oniguro driver, Kurai, took us to Ignareth.
I’d never been to the demon city-state before. I wasn’t sure if it would offend Ronan or make him upset to hear it, but it had never really been on the top of my travel list. Gambling, clubs, and hookers?
Yeah, not really my thing.
But even still, I had to appreciate the spectacle. The glittering den of vice and sin appeared like a magical oasis on the horizon, bursting out of the desert in color and motion. It was loud and unapologetic and alive, and I could appreciate the almost silly quality to it all.
An adult playground, but a playground all the same.
With a deep sigh, I nestled into Ronan’s side.
Victor was gone. My real mate was with me. And as Ignareth’s glow swallowed us whole, I got used to the idea that this place, despite the danger, could still be home.
Ronan tensed as we drove the streets, like he was just waiting for something to pop out at us.
“Home, sir?” Kurai asked.
“No, take us to The Inferno.”
Our hands had been practically glued together since we left the rest stop, and I squeezed his in question. “The Inferno?”
He was trying hard to play it cool, but a boyish smile broke through his tough defenses. “I booked us a suite. I don’t want to see anybody but you for… well, I’d be good with forever, but I told my dad I was officially off for the next week.”
He leaned in closer, whispering in my ear. “And we’ll just do whatever you want. There’s no expectations from me. I only want you to be comfortable and happy.”
My eyes widened, pulse quickening as I thought through his proposal. A whole week of whatever I wanted to do?
“I want books, a computer, pancakes, hot chips, soda, sweatpants, coffee with way too much cream and sugar, and—”
Ronan laughed, kissing me on the top of my head. “Consider it done.”
He then took out his phone and immediately began ordering everything I’d just listed to be delivered no-contact outside our door.
He wasn’t kidding when he’d said that he didn’t want to see anybody but me.
And he’d even checked in right before he’d come to Noctis, which meant we only needed to take the private elevator up to the room, no speaking to staff necessary. I waved goodbye to Kurai as we stepped inside, and as soon as the doors shut, it was just me and Ronan, for a whole week.
I collapsed into him, burrowing my face into his chest.
“You smell like smoke,” I said.
His hand wrapped around my shoulders, and he laughed. “Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”
I was a little nervous about what I’d see when the door opened. Being this high up, I was already getting flashbacks to the stark, cold penthouse where Victor had kept me prisoner.
But Ignareth wasn’t exactly known for being subtle. What if it was a gaudy nightmare like the Premier’s Mansion?
Cold sweat ran down my back as the room revealed itself to me, and I stopped, surveying the space before stepping into the threshold.
To my surprise, the suite didn’t feel like a showcase or a prison—it felt downright homey.
Warm amber lights glowed from recessed fixtures instead of glaring down, and the gold was softened by dark wood and worn leather that invited you to sink in rather than stand at attention.
A massive couch was piled with too many pillows, a throw blanket slung carelessly over the back like someone had actually used it.
Based on the pile of shopping bags Ronan had left here, it probably had been—by him.
The air smelled richly of coffee, tea, and clean linen instead of antiseptic, blood, and cologne. Even the city beyond the windows felt distant here, muffled by thick glass and heavy curtains. It wasn’t empty, and it wasn’t overflowing.
My shoulders loosened without me telling them to, and I breathed easier than I had in years. Even during my brief escape, I’d never allowed myself to feel too comfortable.
This was… safe.
Ronan watched me carefully. “We can get a different room if this is too triggering. I was worried it might remind you of—”
I put a finger on his lips to stop him before he got started again. “It’s perfect.”
He smiled, gently taking my wrist and leading me to the sofa. “I may have already gotten you some things. I had to go on hunches, and info I got while tracking—”
“Stalking.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Stalking you.”
I grabbed the first bag, my hands trembling as they made their way through the tissue.
Please don’t be lingerie.
But I didn’t feel silk, satin, or lace under my fingertips. It was soft, warm.
Flannel.
I pulled up the pair of pajama pants with a green apple print.
My eyes misted over and I grinned. I couldn’t have picked better myself.
Ronan was quiet, not seeking praise or validation as I tore through the rest of the presents he’d already bought. More comfy pants and sweatshirts with quirky prints, slippers and thick socks, books based on Starlight Dominion missions, a game console, a laptop…
They were all brand new, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was digging to find artifacts of my old life. Parts of myself I’d forgotten even existed. Pieces of the puzzle to my soul that were slowly coming back together to form the picture of who I really was.
Lastly was a large box, the recognizable scent of Cindralis soaked into the cardboard.
I gave him a questioning, excited look, and he just nodded, handing me a pocket knife so I could cut through the plastic strapping.
Now I was really shaking, opening the flaps and revealing the contents.
A cauldron—black, shiny, and new.
I sniffed, my chest seizing.
“I’m trying to find your old one,” Ronan said, his voice quiet. “But, just in case, I wanted to make sure you could do magic again. I’m sure re-seasoning it will be a bitch, but—”
I leapt off the floor and straight into his arms, crying into his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I sobbed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Whether it was the mate bond, his extensive “stalking,” or just Ronan’s personality, he saw me better from our short time together than anyone ever had in my whole life, including my parents.
It wasn’t that I needed gifts, either. If Ronan was broke, I’d still want to be with him. But after years of changing myself, hiding myself, trying to fit the mold of the woman Victor wanted me to be in his own twisted devotion to the mate he lost, I felt free.
And loved for who I really was.
* * *
“Suck it, demon!”
Ronan’s lips rumbled as he exhaled and fell back against the mattress in defeat. “I swear I used to be good at this.”
I danced in my spot, watching the animation of my little car do a victory lap, the cartoon cat driver fist-pumping out of the window.
We were on day… I forgot, of our “mate” moon. Maybe three?
It didn’t matter. I was going to enjoy the bubble and try not to count the seconds until it would burst, and cold reality would pour back in.
Ronan kept true to his word and let me pick everything we did, and did I ever take him up on that offer.
Yesterday had been an at-home spa day, complete with face masks, bubble baths, and manicures—his nails looked fabulous in black.
Today was all about video games, a mix of classics and releases that had come out in the past five years.
He had even let me choose his own meals so we could split them.
The smell of bacon and maple syrup lingered from the empty plates on the table, sticky trophies from our “breakfast for dinner,” and the room was a total mess of clothes since neither of us felt like cleaning, and we didn’t want to let the maid in, either.
We hadn’t done anything physical aside from cuddling and a few kisses, though. This, too, Ronan was letting me dictate.