Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Orpheus
I don’t remember falling asleep.
That’s the first thing that unsettles me when the world starts to return.
Not the light filtering through the heavy curtains. Not the soft hum of the club far below.
It’s the absence of memory. It’s the weight of the body next to me.
I haven’t slept beside anyone in more decades than I can remember. Not like this. Not without intent. Not without lust driving every touch and every breath. No woman has slept next to me like this. I don’t think in my entire lifespan.
Yet, here she is.
Cassia lies on her side, curled slightly toward me like she belongs there, her blonde hair spilling across the pillow, her face slack with real sleep. No tension. No fear etched into her brow. Just rest.
Actual rest.
The sight hits me harder than blood ever could.
I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest. The way her lashes cast shadows against her cheeks. The faint crease between her brows tells me even her peace is hard won.
I didn’t touch her.
Not last night. Not when I brought her here shaking and broken. Not when I laid down beside her because I didn’t trust myself to leave her alone.
I told myself it was vigilance.
That I was guarding her.
That I was listening for threats.
The truth is uglier.
I wanted to be close to her without crossing the line. I wanted to feel her warmth without taking it. I wanted proof that I could still choose restraint.
I wanted to prove that Sibley was wrong.
I haven’t spoken to her lately, as she’s helping Jett’s friend with her shop, to speak to her about the vision she’d seen.
All I know is what I feel. What shesaid about the three of us finding our mates.
That once Aziz claimed his, and he has, we’d find ours.
I’ve never wanted to claim someone. I’ve never felt the need to have someone at my side.
I hadn’t wanted to want Cassia.
Now, I’m lying here, wide awake, my control fraying at the edges because she’s inches from me and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend I’m unaffected.
Her lips part as she exhales.
The sound does something to me.
I clench my jaw and stare at the ceiling.
This is dangerous.
Not the uprising. Not the threats. Not the idiots who think they can challenge my rule.
This.
Wanting something I can’t afford.
I turn my head back to her despite myself.
I can still feel the imprint of her body against mine from last night when I carried her. The way she fit too easily. The way my instincts had locked around her like she was something to be protected at all costs.
She shifts slightly, one hand sliding across the sheet until her fingers brush my arm.
The contact is accidental.
It still sends a sharp pulse through me.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe.
She murmurs something under her breath and turns her face toward me, still asleep, her knee brushing my thigh.
I’m done for.
I haven’t wanted someone like this in longer than I care to admit. Not the body. Not the release. The closeness. The grounding. The quiet intimacy of sharing space without violence or purpose attached.
I should get up.
I should put distance between us.
Instead, I stay.
For the first time in centuries, I don’t feel alone, even when I’m always surrounded by people.
A distant sound filters through the walls.
A shout.
Then another.
My body tenses instantly, every sense snapping into place.
The club.
Something’s wrong.
I slide out of bed silently and cross the room in a blink, pulling on pants and a shirt as I go. I pause at the door, listening.
Glass shatters below.
A scream.
The sound of furniture being overturned.
Pandemonium.
I swear under my breath.
I let my guard down.
I was too focused on her. Too wrapped up in watching her breathe. Too indulgent in a moment of peace I haven’t earned.
I don’t have to wonder who it is downstairs. I already know. I can smell their stink in the air. The vampires from last night didn’t retreat.
They regrouped.
I move fast, opening the door just enough to bark orders down the hall. Guards flood toward the stairs. Weapons. Commands. The old rhythm snapped back into place.
I turn back just as Cassia sits up in bed, eyes wide, hair a mess.
“What’s happening?” she asks, voice thick with sleep.
“Stay here,” I say sharply.
She’s already swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
“No.”
I’m across the room in an instant, blocking her path. “This isn’t a debate.”
Her eyes flash. “Someone’s hurt.”
The certainty in her voice makes my chest tighten.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” she snaps, already reaching for the door. “I can hear it.”
She’s right.
Another scream echoes up the stairwell.
I growl low in my throat. “Cassia.”
She stops, turns to face me. “You can’t lock me away every time things get dangerous.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No,” she says. “You shouldn’t.”
The words land harder than they should.
“Get behind me,” I order.
Her jaw sets. “I won’t hide.”
I don’t have time to argue. We make our way into the hall just as the fight is making its way up toward my private quarters.
The door bursts open at the end of the hall as an injured servant stumbles through, blood soaking his shirt, panic in his eyes.
Cassia moves before I can stop her.
She catches him as he collapses, her hands already pressing against the wound, voice calm, steady.
“Sit down,” she tells him. “You’re going to be fine. Look at me. Breathe.”
I see it then.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
Competence.
She’s done this before.
Something inside me snaps.
I dispatch the attackers with ruthless efficiency, the hall and the club below becoming a storm of violence and command. Bodies fall. The remaining vampires retreat once they realize they miscalculated.
Again.
When it’s over, my hands are bloodied, and my temper is shredded.
Cassia is still kneeling on the floor, hands stained red, murmuring reassurance to the servant until guards take over.
I stalk toward her and grip her arm, hauling her to her feet.
“What the hell do you think you were doing?” I snarl.
Her eyes blaze. “Helping.”
“You could’ve been killed.”
“So could he,” she shoots back, gesturing toward the servant being carried away. “You don’t get to decide whose life is worth risking.”
I don’t trust myself to respond.
I drag her back toward my chambers, ignoring the stares, the whispers, the blood slicking the floor. I slam the door behind us and lock it.
She wrenches her arm free. “Let go of me. Don’t manhandle me.”
“I’m not manhandling you. I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Her chest rises and falls fast. “I didn’t ask for this.”
I growl. “I won’t watch you bleed because you think bravery is the same thing as recklessness.”
She steps closer, voice shaking. “I won’t survive if I stop being myself.”
I stare at her. Really look at her.
The defiance. The exhaustion. The strength she refuses to surrender, even when it costs her peace.
“I can’t lose you,” I say.
The words are out before I can stop them. I should regret them, but I don’t. The truth of those words hit me hard. I can’t lose Cassia.
Her breath catches.
“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t mean it,” she whispers.
“I do,” I reply. “Because it’s already true.”
The tension between us shifts, sharp and electric.
I step closer. She doesn’t retreat.
My hand lifts to her face, thumb brushing the smear of blood on her cheek.
“This is a mistake,” she murmurs.
“Yes,” I agree. But it;s going to be one I’ll keep making because she’s mine. She has to stay mine.
I kiss her. Lips claiming hers.
It’s not gentle.
It’s not careful.
It’s desperate and grounding and full of everything I’ve been denying since the moment I saw her stand up to me in my office after that vampire attacked her.
She kisses me back like she’s been waiting for permission.
I lift her, carry her to the bed, and lay her down like she’s something precious even as the hunger coils tight in my chest.
This isn’t about release.
It’s about anchoring.
It’s not about reminding myself I’m still capable of feeling something that isn’t rage or duty.
It’s about her. About claiming what is mine.
Her hands grip my shirt, her breath hitching against my skin, and I feel myself unravel in a way I haven’t allowed in centuries. More than centuries. I don’t remember the last time I’ve ever felt anything like this.
Cassia’s shirt comes off in a tangled mess. Her pants follow just as quickly, leaving her bare to my touch.
I press my fingers to her neck, feeling the frantic beat of her pulse. I need to know she’s real and that I could hurt her, but don’t. Her hands claw at my back, slide over my shoulders, and up to my jaw, like she’s memorizing me.
She arches up, her legs wrapping around my waist until there’s no space between us, only heat, friction, need. Her hipbones press into me with every movement. I kiss along her collarbone, and she shudders, a laugh tearing free before she stops herself.
“Sorry, it tickles.”
I find myself grinning at her soft voice and press another kiss, making her giggle.
I flip us so she’s on top, giving her control. Her eyes flash dark for a moment, then she blinks, and it’s her again, jaw set but lips uncertain. She takes her time. When she finally kisses me, it feels almost holy. I want every other man to know he’ll never match this.
I lift her again, her thighs tightening around me, and enter her in one smooth motion. Cassia’s lips part on a cry. Her pussy squeezes me tighter as I realize what I’ve done.
“You’re a . . .”
“I was,” she breathes, eyes on mine, a tint of pink burns her cheeks.
I want to yell at her for not telling me for allowing me to do this to her.
At the same time, I can’t because knowing what I now know means just what it’s supposed to mean.
She’s mine. The feel of her surrounding me feels like damn heaven.
Not that I believe there is a heaven. Maybe having her right here where she is, is exactly what heaven is supposed to be.
Cassia falls back, hissing and biting my shoulder.
Fuck, that feels good. So damn good.
My fangs ache to sink into her shoulder.
Together we move as one, hard and fast, as if the world will end if we stop. Her nails rake down my spine until blood beads under her touch. She wants to mark me, and I let her.
She comes hard with my arms wrapped around her, her body folding then collapsing in a wave of release. She gasps my name, and it almost destroys me.
Unable to stop myself, it’s like something else takes control.
I sink my teeth into her shoulder, marking her.
Claiming, sealing a bond that can never be broken.
I feel it snap into place in the way the fates would make it so.
I feel her heart beat as if it were my own.
My release shoots from me, and I know what will happen.
I’m not blind to what the fates have in store.
Finally, when we’re both coming down, I roll, holding Cassia to me, feeling her, touching her, needing her right where she’s at. Thankfully, though breathing heavily, she buries her face against me, silent and spent.
“You should’ve told me,” I say softly, staring at the ceiling.
She shifts slightly, her fingers curling into my chest. “That I was a virgin?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
She exhales slowly. “Why?”
“Because I would have been far more gentle in taking something so precious,” I say. The fact that she gave herself to me as she did meant something to me. Meant she trusted me with something so priceless.
Now, she is mine.
Mine.
I sealed the fates’ wishes when I sank my teeth into her.
In truth, I wanted to do it. I wanted her as mine, and damn it, I’ll never regret it.
Cassia is more than what anyone would ever see her to be. I tasted it in her blood. I tasted it as I drank. We have things to talk about, and we will. Most of all, she needs to know just how much things have changed between us.