Chapter 11 Rescue & Revenge #2
"I can walk—"
"I know." His amber eyes met mine, and I saw the vulnerability still lurking there. "Let me carry you anyway."
I nodded, and he lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my head rest against his shoulder, breathing in his scent—leather and steel and wild forest, now layered with the musk of our coupling and the copper tang of blood.
He carried me up the grand staircase, the others following behind. The manor was quiet, peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the warehouse and the desperate claiming in the foyer. I let myself relax into Lucien's warmth, feeling safe and cherished and utterly, completely theirs.
The bathroom was warm and steamy when we arrived, the massive claw-foot tub already filled with water that smelled of lavender and something else—Selene's magic, I realized, infused with healing properties.
Azrael had laid out soft towels and a robe, and there was a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of wine waiting on a small table beside the tub.
"Eat," Selene instructed, helping me out of my ruined clothes. "Then soak. We'll be right outside if you need anything."
I caught her wrist before she could leave. "Stay. Please."
Her expression softened. "Of course, darling."
She helped me into the tub, and I sank into the warm water with a groan of relief.
The heat soaked into my sore muscles, and I felt the healing magic begin to work—the ache between my legs fading, the bite on my shoulder tingling as it closed completely.
Selene perched on the edge of the tub, her fingers trailing through the water, and I let myself drift.
"Lucien," I said quietly. "Is he okay?"
"He will be." She squeezed my hand. "The wolf is... possessive. When he thought he'd lost you, it nearly broke him. What happened in the foyer—that was him reclaiming you. Reassuring himself that you're still here, still his. Still ours."
"And the others? Darius and Azrael?"
"They understand. They feel it too, just... differently. Darius expresses it through control. Azrael through worship. Lucien through claiming. You're the center of our world, Lizzie. Losing you would destroy us all."
The weight of her words settled over me like a blanket. Heavy, but not unwelcome. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Now eat your soup. You need your strength."
I ate, and I soaked, and I let the warmth of the water and the magic and their love seep into my bones. When I finally emerged from the tub, wrapped in the soft robe Azrael had left for me, I felt almost human again.
Lucien was waiting outside the bathroom door. He'd changed into clean clothes—black sweatpants and a soft t-shirt—and his hair was damp, like he'd showered in another bathroom. When he saw me, something in his expression eased.
"Hey," I said softly.
"Hey." He reached out and touched my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "I'm sorry. For earlier. I was too rough—"
"You were exactly what I needed." I caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. "What you needed. Don't apologize for that."
He pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair. "I love you." The words were muffled, barely audible, but I heard them. "I don't know how to say it right. I don't know how to be gentle or soft or any of the things you deserve. But I love you, Lizzie. More than I've ever loved anything."
My heart swelled. "I love you too. All of you. The wolf and the man. The rough and the gentle. Everything."
He pulled back, his amber eyes searching my face. "You mean that."
"Every word."
He kissed me—soft, tender, a complete contrast to the feral claiming in the foyer. It was a promise, I realized. A vow. I will learn to be gentle for you. I will learn to be what you need.
When we finally broke apart, the others were waiting in the hallway. Darius with his quiet intensity. Azrael with his reverent warmth. Selene with her knowing smile.
"Bed," Selene announced. "All of us. No more excitement tonight. Just sleep."
We piled into my room—the guest room that had become my room, with its four-poster bed and velvet drapes and the remnants of my chaotic decorating scattered across every surface.
The bed was big enough for all of us, barely, and we arranged ourselves in a tangle of limbs and blankets.
Lucien curled against my back, his arm draped over my waist. Azrael lay at my other side, his cool fingers intertwined with mine.
Selene settled at the foot of the bed, her hand resting on my ankle.
And Darius—Darius took the chair by the window, his silver eyes watching over us all.
"Sleep," he said quietly. "I'll keep watch."
"You don't sleep," I reminded him.
"No." His lips curved in that faint, rare smile. "But you do. And I'll be here when you wake."
I closed my eyes and let myself drift, surrounded by warmth and safety and the bone-deep certainty that I was loved.
The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was Lucien's voice, soft and fierce:
"Mine. Always mine."
And I smiled.