24
EVERYTHING FALLS QUIET
IVY
I wake and it’s the first time I’ve felt comfortable in weeks. Henry’s lying on his side, watching me, and I smile as I stretch. I pull the covers over me and he growls. I giggle and pop my head out, waiting until his bright blue eyes sparkle before I dive back under the duvet again.
Henry stills and this is dangerous. He’s playing and he always wins. For once, I’d like to beat him. Even if that means cheating.
The man is impossible.
Never mind that he’s older and has so much more experience than me. He’s stronger, faster and more accurate. He’s a panther primed to attack but he teases me like he’s a kitten.
He isn’t. He’s fucking vicious.
But he’s never going to hurt me.
Not on purpose. Maybe accidentally, but he’ll do everything he can to avoid it. That’s the risk of intimacy and trust, and with him, I’m prepared to take it.
I’m ready for it.
I knew it before last night, but it took what happened to make me realize it. Henry kissed me and it was everything I needed and more. He was careful and wild, deep and soft, relentless and gentle—and his teeth never threatened me but made me feel more alive than ever.
Fuck, the things my body felt last night. Maybe it was because my mind was finally relieved of all its stresses and constraints. I’d discovered I was wrong—very, very wrong—and when I finally faced my fears, they felt insignificant. Meaningless and unnecessary obstructions.
“Are you going to make me come in there and get you, lea?”
I laugh again and Henry curses.
“What happens if you do?” I dare to ask.
“You’re not ready to find out,” he says, threatening me with what I want.
My clit throbs and it’s impossible to ignore. I want him and I feel ready. I’m certain and this feels right. I trust him, even though he isn’t perfect and his imperfections only make him more appealing. More interesting. As if he’s more beautiful because I know his scars and flaws, and he isn’t afraid to hide them from me.
“What if I am?”
There’s silence.
Deafening silence.
The kind that screams Henry’s on the verge of ripping the duvet to shreds to get to me now I’m offering everything he wants. He’s waited for this and now I’m ready, and he’s still waiting, making sure I’m certain.
I pull the duvet back and his eyes are wild, possessed by the emotions crashing through him. He leans forward and his movement is that of a predator stalking his prey. I’m not afraid of this game—or him—and I want to be caught. The thought of it makes my heart race and my core warm, and I’m damn sure this is right.
“Henry?”
He stiffens.
“You need to say something.” I’m mumbling. “Please. Say something.”
“Fucking hell, Ivy,” he says, rasping. “Are you sure? I don’t want this if you’re not ready. I want this to be right. For you. For us.”
I arch my eyebrow.
“I’m asking if you’re sure, Ivy. About me?”
My eyebrow goes higher.
Henry’s bright blue eyes turn red as I nod and his control slips for a moment. He’s as excited as I am, but he’s fighting to remain calm, determined to take things at whatever pace I’m comfortable with. He wants to lead, wants to control, but he wants to make damn sure he doesn’t rush me.
I nod and bite my lip. “I want this. I want you.”
He groans and it’s a sound full of need and want. It’s a release of weeks of waiting and we both know there’s no going back now. He’s heard me ask for this.
“Fuck, lea. Tell me again.”
I hum, pretending to be unsure. “I think I’m ready?”
Henry shakes his head and moves closer.
“I need you to say something? ”
His eyes narrow and he stops millimeters from me.
I smirk and he stares. He’s concealing his emotions and refusing to play this game any longer. I’m not giving him what he wants and he won’t give me what I want until I do.
“I want you,” I say. “Please, Henry.”
Henry darts forward and his mouth meets mine. It’s full of need and want and he tastes of pure desire. His hands slide through my hair and pull me closer, and as his tongue claims my mouth, I stop caring about anything other than this. He’s perfect. He’s safe. He’s home. And he’s mine.
He pulls away and his face is sharp. I haven’t become accustomed to seeing him like this, I've become enthralled. Somehow, I like him more like this. It's how he really is, how he's meant to be. He isn't hiding anything and Henry trusts me to accept him when he shows me all he is.
He sighs and stiffens, pulling away. Moments ago, he wanted this. Now he's drawing back and I don't understand it.
It hurts and a pang of pain and panic grips my chest.
“I want this, want you,” he says, grabbing my arm as he seems to reassure me. “You get this once, Ivy. Let me do it right. For my sake. The way it was before I was turned. Tonight. When we can take our time. I can spend the night pleasing you. I want it to be special. I want it to be perfect.”
I nod, disappointed.
“Don't see this as anything other than an act of devotion, lea. I adore you. I refuse to let this be anything but perfect. I intend to feed you, pamper you and then fuck you until you see stars and you wonder why the hell we waited so long.”
Heat spreads over my face and Henry laughs. He grabs me and I whine, pretending to be irritated as he carries me to the bathroom. We strip and step into the shower and his gaze wanders over me, taking in my body as if he hasn't seen it before.
Henry grabs a sponge and washes me. Slowly. Reverently. Paying attention to the way I respond and telling me to behave when I giggle.
He finishes and guides me out of the shower, making sure he dries every inch of me. Henry points to the perfumes laid out on the side, making sure I've taken the hint before he walks away. He's making today about me and I get to indulge myself before tonight.
We dress and talk before he asks if I want breakfast. I grin and he waits until I've asked properly before arranging food. We repeat our ritual and the consistency reassures me everything is okay. Henry's even more attentive than usual and showers me with praise, and I know damn well he's doing everything he can to make today perfect.
The morning passes easily and we play, talk, and enjoy ourselves. It's light and easy, a day of pleasure without any constraints or worries.
He groans when his phone rings and his eyes darken as the conversation continues. Henry steps to the other side of the room and my heart sinks, certain something's wrong. He doesn't want me to hear and although I can't see his face, his body language tells me it's serious.
Fucking serious.
Henry tightens his hand into a fist as he ends the call. Our relaxing day has ended abruptly and now there's only tension. Only stress. Henry's furious about whatever news he received and he's failing to hide it from me.
“I'm sorry, lea. I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Is something wrong?” I ask, hesitantly.
He smiles. “Nothing I can't handle. Behave while I'm away and I'll bring you a present. ”
I try to hide my anxiety in my smile as Henry leaves. His attempts to protect me are all very well, but at some point, he's going to need to tell me everything.
And I mean everything.
I know some of it will be unpleasant. I know most of it will be shocking. Some will be frightening. But it's worse not knowing. It's got to be worse not knowing.
I stare at the door and minutes later, Matt walks in. He smiles pleasantly and I ignore it, staring at him like I've had enough of all this bullshit.
“Someone’s pissed.” Matt sits and waits for me to ask the question we both know is coming.
“What the fuck is going on, Matt?”
He sighs and sits. “Henry doesn't want you to know,” he says, hesitating between following his instructions and answering my question. “Rowan's causing problems. Henry's dealing with them. Don't tell him I said anything.”
I nod. “How bad?”
His teeth grind. “It's not great. But Henry's invariably good at this dealing with this kind of crap.”
He passes me a book and I open it, resigned to spending an afternoon nervously waiting.
“You're here for a reason, aren't you?” I ask, ignoring the temptation to look up from my book.
“Other than keeping you company?” He laughs. “Obviously, Ivy. We both know why I'm here.”
Because Henry's making sure I'm safe.
I don't know what's going on, but there's enough danger for him to send Matt to protect me. It’s got to threaten the coven or the castle for Matt to be here, but it’s impossible to work out what the threat is. I don’t have the knowledge or experience to guess what’s wrong and Matt won’t tell me. He’s deflecting every question I ask and we settle into a pattern of ignoring each other as we pretend the afternoon isn’t happening and try to pass the time.
“Did you want dinner?” he asks as the light creeping through the shutters fades.
I shake my head and stare at the door, wondering how much longer Henry will be.
“He'll be fine,” Matt says. “He's capable of taking care of himself.”
I groan and sink into the sofa, still trying to focus on the boring book I'm reading. A small sharp bang catches my attention and when I glance back at Matt, my heart starts racing. He's noticed too and he's paying attention. He's worried and doing a terrible job of hiding it.
Another louder bang disrupts the ominous silence, and all my calm disappears. Muffled shouting shatters any remaining doubt that the trouble Henry’s worried about has arrived. Matt's on his feet in seconds and he's moving quickly, efficiently locking all the shutters and checking the room. He locks the door and positions himself between me and it, readying himself for whatever the hell might come through it.
My heart's pounding and my hands are shaking. I'm sweating and the adrenaline coursing through me tastes bitter and makes me want to hurl.
“You going to tell me now?” I ask.
He growls and looks back over his shoulder. “Rowan and Henry go back a very long way. Rowan's been looking for a way to destroy Henry and his coven. You're his weakness, Ivy. Our weakness. Rowan's been using you to lure Henry out, and now he's attacking you directly.”
Fuck .
“Whatever happens, you stay in this room. I don't care what shit happens outside, Ivy.”
Matt's eyes are as red as Henry's and he isn't fucking around. The shouting and banging grow louder and it doesn't sound good. It sounds like fighting. It's vicious. It's brutal and getting closer, and Matt's preparing for it to reach our door.
And then it stops.
Everything falls quiet.
The silence is deafening and it's worse than the shouting. It's the absence of certainty and the tension is thick. It's louder than any sound I've ever heard and it looms like a thief in the night, preparing to steal my safety and security.
It's still too quiet and I stare at Matt, asking how much longer we’ll wait before we find out what the fuck's going on.