Chapter 22
Konstantine
Drake had been late to his post again today. What had begun as a once-a-week occurrence weeks ago was happening daily.
“Where is he?” I’d shouted at Cyrus earlier that morning, whose eyes kept clouding over, mindlinking all the guards as he’d tried to find Drake.
“This is what, the twentieth damn time?” I grabbed the nearest object, a paperweight made of glass, and crushed it into a fine sand with the pressure of my grip.
“Alpha, we’ll find him,” Cyrus said, making a quiet note of the mess on his desk.
My temper could not be assuaged, not today.
For at least the last week, Drake would be gone from sunup to sundown, showing up for a few hours in between before disappearing again.
He missed training and meetings, his excuses for his truancies weak and nonsensical.
His block would be up, allowing no mindlink to be established.
I could have used the Alpha Command to break it, but out of respect for my gamma and our decades-long friendship, I hadn’t.
My patience, however, had worn paper-thin.
“This has gone on long enough,” I spat. “Find him before I crack through that empty skull of his.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Cyrus said with a nod.
I went to my own office and slammed the door so hard, the books jolted in their place on the shelves. I heard a snicker, and my chair swiveled around. Paloma was sitting in it behind my desk, her legs hanging over the side and a serpentine smile on her face.
“Rough afternoon?” she asked.
“Now is not a good time, Paloma,” I replied, going to my liquor cabinet. “Why are you in here?”
My office and my bedroom were private spaces. I didn’t like anyone outside of the officers and my family coming in uninvited.
She swung her legs off the arm and strolled toward me. “Why do you think?”
She was wearing a cropped T-shirt and a skirt that was no more than a scrap of cloth tied to her waist. Her intentions were as revealing as her clothing.
“Let’s have a do-over,” she said and plucked the whiskey bottle out of my hands with a smirk. “You won’t need this.”
I took it back. “I told you, not now.”
“Ooh, baby, you’re so tense,” she replied, stepping closer. “It’s been months since the anniversary flop. Don’t you want to see if your condition has improved?” Her eyes flickered toward the bulge lying dormant in my jeans.
It hadn’t. That much I could tell her.
“Come on, Stan. I want to help.”
I didn’t need a reminder of my multiple failures to launch. I was frustrated on many fronts, and Drake’s disappearing act was not helping my aggravation.
Paloma picked up on my hesitation and grabbed my arm, leading me toward the room next door.
“Not there,” I told her.
She looked at me, bemused. “Since when?”
“Not there,” I said again without elaborating.
“Then where?” She leaned toward me. “I’ve always wanted to see your bedroom,” she whispered slyly and rubbed the outside of my jeans.
“Here works,” I replied, moving myself with her hand, in supplication for any kind of response.
“That’s it, baby,” Paloma said through a heavy breath, moving us in tandem to the chaise. “Just relax, enjoy.”
She sat, reclining back on the leather. She wasted no time removing her top, showing off her breasts, unencumbered by a bra. Her skirt and underwear, if she were wearing any, went with her clothes, tossed in a heap on the floor.
“Pants.” She gestured, touching herself.
I was breathing hard, my hands shaky while I undid my belt, not from lust but from the alarming absence of it.
“Come here,” Paloma purred, licking her lips at my naked lower region. I positioned myself on top, my swinging dick meeting her wetness.
“Take your time, baby,” she said softly, raising her hips.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. I moved a little, grazing a nipple with my fingers and taking her lips. My tongue went inside of her mouth, seeking out the sustenance I needed to end this famine. What I sought wasn’t here. It was—
Shit. No, no, no. No. My mind was going to a dangerous place. I fought valiantly to call it back, to stay in the present, but a twinge of movement from below told me it was too late. The famine became a feast, and I dove, my eyes still shut, into a banquet filled with jasmine and gluttony.
When I opened them again, quicksilver eyes were looking up into mine.
“Miss me?” Her dark breathy drawl sent shivers down my back.
“How?” I asked in disbelief.
Arax smiled and ran her fingers up my spine and through my hair. “I had to come back to you.” She pulled me into a deep kiss. Her lips tasted like wildfire. I pressed her closer and quickened my pace, giving her long, sensual strokes, my body yearning for her. All of her.
She moaned and I buried my face in that raven hair, breathing in her scent—the scent my heart had been aching for, for what had to have been a thousand eternities.
“Never leave me again,” I begged and felt her walls close in on me, igniting what she alone could proffer… pleasure I could only take from her.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, breathing heavily. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pushing me in farther. I groaned and closed my eyes again.
“Fuck me. Yes, Stan, just like that!” a jarring voice shrilled in my ear.
My eyes flew open. The sparkling grey was gone, replaced with dull, flat blue.
I jumped up, roughly pulling out and causing her to fall off the couch and land with a startled yelp.
“Hey!” Paloma squeaked in protest. “What’s the matter?”
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the confusion from my mind. What the hell was that?
“Stan?” Paloma whined.
“You need to go, Paloma,” I told her. “Just get out.”
“But, baby, we weren’t finished.” She rose and crawled to the edge of the chaise. “You’ve never given it to me so good.”
“I said leave,” I told her.
“But I want to fuck!” Paloma screamed.
I barreled to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her face close to mine. “Get. Out,” I hissed at her through my teeth, my voice low.
Her eyes went wide with fear and shock, then immediately narrowed in anger. Unable to deny my Command, she grabbed her clothes, cursing under her breath as she quickly left the room, not even bothering to get dressed. I locked the door after her.
That was you, wasn’t it? I said to Apollo. You did that.
I don’t concern myself with mediocre dalliances, he replied lazily and went searching into my thoughts. Don’t blame me for your guilty conscience, human.
“It felt so real,” I said, shaking my head again as I leaned my hands onto the back of a chair. I could still smell Arax’s faint perfume, and the press of her lips lingered on mine. I had to readjust myself at the thought that just a few seconds ago she was writhing beneath me.
“You done with your bedwarmer?” Penelope’s mindlink broke me out of my stupor. For once, I was grateful for the interruption.
“How did—”
“I saw her going up to your office, and running out of it,” she replied, “what did you do to make her cry?”
“What do you need, Penelope?”
“I need you to sign off on the last of the preparations,” she explained.
“How much is this party costing me?”
“Not half as much as it should, so shut it and get down here,” my sister snapped.
Penelope was turning twenty-five, and in true Penelope fashion, she was going all out. I sighed but relented. She was my baby sister, and I loved her, and I knew there was no arguing with her about this.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Main hall by the front.”
I got dressed and went downstairs. Penelope handed me a paper with the final itemizations. I quickly scanned them. “Really? You need all this?” I asked, grimacing at her. The list was ridiculous.
“Yes, I need it all. I’m fabulous and so this party has to be fabulous,” she said, one hand on her hip and holding Eleni with the other.
“You’re average at best,” I replied, and signed off on the bill.
“Screw you, Stan. But also…” She tucked the receipt into her side pocket. “Thank you.”
“Your mother is crazy,” I told my niece, who giggled with wide-eyed agreement.
I heard the front doors opening behind me. I paid it no mind, but then I stiffened involuntarily. That scent. Jasmine. Earth. It couldn’t be.
Penelope noticed the change in my demeanor. “Stan, you all right?” she asked, concerned. She looked at the door and back at me. My breathing had gotten staggered and heavy.
Apollo was raging in my head.
Drake’s voice confirmed the impossible. “Hey, Stan, look who’s back!” he shouted.
I took a half second and noticed Penelope analyzing me and the situation.
Ignoring my sister’s curiosity, I turned around slowly.
There she was, standing in the flesh, even more beautiful than I’d remembered her.
She had let her hair grow out, cascades of blue-black running down her sides, well past her hips.
Her long tresses couldn’t hide how much weight she’d lost. Fuck me, she was nothing but skin and bones.
My jaw clenched at the realization. Her workout clothes, meant to be skintight, hung loosely off her emaciated frame, and her face, the face that had still carried the marks of her accident when I last saw it, was clear but waxen and tired.
Her eyes were the same as before. I gazed into them, rather, they took hold of me and didn’t let go.
There was nothing that I could fathom that could make them lose their haunting appeal, dark grey with just a flash of silver in the middle, reminding me of lightning illuminating the dark sky on a stormy night at sea.
Drake’s worry came through the link. “She’s even thinner than before, isn’t she?”
I didn’t answer, too bewildered at her return and how shrunken she looked.
Arax nodded slowly at me, a small smile playing on those pillowy but colorless lips. “Hello, Konstantine.”
Hearing her voice made my heart beat with passion. “Arax,” I said and nodded back at her.
Drake casually put his arm around her, pulling her into a tight side hug. She looked up at him, and my eyes narrowed of their own accord, which did not go undetected by Penelope.
She glanced up at me quizzically and turned toward where Arax and Drake were standing.
“So, this is the famous Arax,” she said, approaching them. “I’m Penelope, Stan’s sister.”
“Hi, Drake mentioned you were out of town last year. I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Arax replied, shaking Pen’s hand. She smiled at Eleni. “And I remember this cutie.”
“Hi, Roxie!” Eleni said, greeting her happily.
“Rox got herself caught in a storm,” Drake said. “She’s staying the night.”
“Just the night?” Penelope’s head veered toward me briefly with a devious look. “You should stay for the party. It’s my twenty-fifth.”
I was at a loss for words, watching my sister take total control of everything. Arax, too, looked lost for a minute. She opened her mouth to answer, but Penelope cut her off.
“You’re staying. It’s in two days. You can stay for two days.”
“Are you kidding? She’s staying. Right, Stan?” Drake was beside himself. He tightened his hold on Arax as he said this and waggled his eyebrows at me.
“I guess, sure. Thank you,” Arax said hesitantly, and her gaze went to me. “Is that okay, Konstantine?”
The answer would be YES, you fool. Apollo roared in my head.
“Of course it’s okay with him!” Penelope said for me.
“Great, it’s settled. We should find you a room, Rox, and get you out of those clothes. You’re really wet.” Drake’s innuendo had Arax blushing into her scalp.
“I’ll take her up,” Penelope said. “She should stay close to Vallon and me.”
“What’s the big deal about where she stays?” Drake asked, and soon he and Penelope were arguing about my mate’s sleeping arrangements.
Arax chose not to get involved and took the opportunity to give me her full attention. “You cut your hair,” she said, giving me a shy smile.
I raised a calculated eyebrow at her and watched as her face blanched. I hadn’t forgotten about the Fabio comment from a year ago, and by the self-conscious look on her face, it was dawning on her that I knew.
“C’mon, Rox, let’s go,” Drake called to her. “You and Stan can talk later. Seems like you have a different set of accommodations this time around.”
She walked away, glancing back at me quickly once more before catching up to Drake and Penelope.
“You told him, Drake!” she whispered to him, having no idea about our superb hearing.
“Told who what?” Drake asked in confusion.
“The Fabio thing!”
“What Fab—oh!” He broke into laughter. “Shit, did he say something?”
“No, he didn’t need to! You should have seen his face when I mentioned his haircut!” Arax answered, horrified.
“It was funny!”
She shook her head in annoyance. “Oh, yeah sure. He looked thrilled!”
“Well, it got him to cut his hair, didn’t it? He’d been rocking the messianic look for years, until you came along.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “Maybe we should cut out that loose tongue of yours next, you ass.”
Drake tugged at the hem of her shirt and brought her to him, and my fists closed together on their own.
“Thanks a lot, dude.” His voice filled my head. “Now she hates me.”
He laughed all the way up the stairs as I resisted every urge to go after him and make Arax’s suggestion about his tongue a very painful reality.