Chapter 26
Because I Want To
ELLIOT
I’m an asshole. A heartless, selfish asshole.
It’s a fact that only an asshole would do what I’ve done. Only a heartless man would continue to give a woman hope when there is none. And yet, I have no regrets.
For once in our very long and sordid history, she doesn’t smell like need, and she isn’t sleeping like rest is running from her. For once in my life, Iris is full. And I’d do it all over again just to see the satisfied look on her face.
She’d been so hungry for so long that it took a while before her draw started to slow, but once it did, she truly blossomed for me.
Without her hunger in the way, I was able to show her the simple pleasure of her body.
From the way her nipples stiffen with a single word to the curl of her toes when I bite her thighs.
For hours, I explored her, testing and touching, discovering every pleasure we’d never thought to take before.
Until eventually there was nothing left to do but rest, and she lay spent in my arms.
I sat awake for a long while just watching her breathe.
A part of me wanted to be sure she was okay, but the other part, the part that hates himself, just wasn’t ready for it to be over. He still isn’t. That’s why I’m staring at her now, stroking her back and hoping to high heaven that I’ll feel something, anything, before she starts to stir.
That by some miracle of the fates it might manifest, and I can finally stop wasting her time. But so far, nothing.
“Elliot,” she mutters. “You’re staring.”
“Yeah…”
“Could you stop?”
“Believe me, baby, I’m trying.”
My candor makes her smile, and she doesn’t say anything as she burrows into my side, so I give up my efforts to look away.
I like looking at her. Always have.
Never quite understood why she let me get away with it all these years. She’s always biting the heads off of everyone else; it’s a wonder mine has made it this long.
Maybe she refrains because she knows I’d only enjoy it.
Whatever the reason, I don’t take the privilege lightly. Although the longer I stare, the more I understand why no one else has ever been enough for her.
Everything about Iris draws you in. From her supple frame to her sultry voice. Her full lips to her wanting eyes. Even the subtle sway in her hips as she walks.
It’s not intentional. It’s just the nature of a beautiful woman.
She lures you in, and she consumes you.
And for some men, most men, it terrifies them.
But I would give it all to her, happily.
I know she will not let me, but if I died feeding Iris, at least I would know my life was not wasted. For a man like me, cursed to a life alone, that is nothing short of a triumph.
I’ve begun to wonder if her father felt that way as his wife devoured him.
Had he given his life for love?
If I did the same, would that be proof enough?
She props herself up on her elbow, as if she’s heard my thoughts directly.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“Fine.”
“I didn’t take too much?”
“There’s no such thing as too much,” I remind her.
“Yes, there is.”
“Not if you’re still hungry.”
Her long hair pools across the bed, curtaining her face as she diverts her gaze to the pillow.
“I’m not.”
I brush the stray strands from her face. I’m not done looking.
“Good.”
She cuddles closer, resting her cheek on my chest, and I close my eyes, trying to memorize the soft flutter of her lashes on my skin. But my efforts are interrupted as a familiar cedar scent sweeps through the room and a knock sounds on the door a second later.
The subtle echo dies, and I know Dame is standing on the other side, waiting, but neither of us moves.
Somewhere in the fog of confusion, we both know that once we leave this bed, the spell will be broken, and the lie will be revealed, leaving us to face the truth—that we are two people incapable of love, yet desperately trying to mimic it.
She looks at me, and I wait until she nods before untangling myself from the mess of our bed.
I press a kiss to her face because the moment feels too significant not to punctuate, and I hand her the shirt I’d discarded on the floor.
“One sec!” I call, pulling on a pair of shorts in no particular hurry.
Iris presses in at my side as I answer the door.
“What are you two doing?” Dame snaps before I can get the door open all the way. “I’ve called you both like five times.”
He pushes the door open wide, revealing Iris wearing nothing but another of my baggy t-shirts, but he doesn’t seem surprised to see her this time. Although Kitty, who is standing close beside him, blushes a little.
“Phone’s off,” I say, shrugging. “What’s up?”
“I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on,” Dame says, holding out a small vial. “Kitty found that in Deacon’s pocket last night. After you docked him.”
He drops the little glass tube in my palm, and I sniff it.
Lovelace and peppercorns. Someone has been playing quite the game right under our noses.
“Truth serum?” I say, passing the vial back.
Dame nods, though he is just as, if not more, confused than I am.
“Wait,” Iris pipes up. “You docked him?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Dame frowns, arms crossed.
“We got a little distracted,” I mutter.
To which his frown deepens as he grumbles.
“Deacon challenged me last night,” I say, speaking directly to Iris.
“Gods! What?” she blurts, hands resting on my chest. “Why? Are you alright?”
“He wanted me to release my claim on you,” I say, then watch as her face morphs into one of sheer disgust.
She doesn’t ask me if I won this time. She knows better than that.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Dame demands, but I’m already shaking my head.
“No. I don’t want any of this blowing back on you. If this shit goes south, you stay clean.”
“Well, you have to give me something. Someone is running around drugging our wolves. I won’t have it.”
He’s right. Our new friend is becoming more than just my and Iris’s problem. First Tara, now Deacon. Even if he was an asshole, he’s a Crescent, and he’s ours to protect. But I won’t drag Dame down with me in this mess.
“Do you know if we have any half-breeds on our pack roster?”
“You think he’s Crescent?” Iris asks.
“Possibly. That’s two wolves he’s left as collateral damage. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“We have a few,” Dame answers. “But our roster doesn’t track blood-quantum. We only know their nearest Crescent ancestor.”
“That’s useless,” I mutter. “Where’s Deacon now?”
“Infirmary,” Dame says. “Out cold. It was a clean dock, though. He’ll be fine.”
I nod, reaching for the door.
This conversation is cutting into my time with Iris. I only have a few more hours before the blissful ignorance of her orgasms is washed away, and she never wants to speak to me again. But Dame seems insistent on ruining my day as thoroughly as possible.
“That’s not all,” Dame mutters, scratching at his ear the way he does when he’s nervous.
Great, more bad news.
Kitty passes a crumpled scroll in my direction. I take it and do my best to smooth it out, but over my shoulder, Iris is already reading.
“What?” she snaps, snatching up the paper to inspect it more closely. “What does that mean?”
I don’t try to take it back. There were only two lines that mattered. The rest is standard template bullshit.
“It means they want to hold me for a formal inquiry,” I say.
Her face blanches.
“Formal inquiry?” she snaps.
I nod.
Well, that’s not exactly what the paper says. The paper says, “Elliot Cross is hereby ordered to report to the Inquisition no later than the eighth hour of this day.”
Which Dame and I know firsthand actually means a seat in the inquisitor’s chair and possibly a cot for the night. If you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky—
“But we already went in for questioning,” she says, eyes wide, reading the paper again.
“Yes, but questioning is not the same as a formal inquiry. And they only pulled you for questioning. This time they want me, and it’s much more…involved.” I choose my words carefully so as not to scare her, but Dame’s cutting glare gives me away, and Iris starts to pace.
“So they’re going to detain you?” she asks, walking back and forth in the doorway.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“For what?”
“They must think he knows something about Grey,” Dame answers.
Iris spins.
“Yeah, no shit. But what could they possibly think we know? We weren’t even here.”
“I don’t know. There’s only one way to find out.”
“You mean you’re going?” she asks, eyes wide.
“You’d prefer I, what? Go on the run? For something I didn’t do?”
She blanches, and I realize too late I’ve struck a nerve.
“No,” she mutters. “I just meant…can’t the council deny it?”
Dame shakes his head.
“No. It’s signed by the headmaster. Challenging it would be too costly for the pack.”
“Okay, but we can go together, right? Since you’re mine?”
She asks her question so innocently, not knowing what it does to me.
Mine.
She should be careful throwing that word around.
“Not this time,” I say.
Her pacing starts again, and I catch her by the hand as my dampener begins to tighten.
“Baby, you’re choking me.”
“Oh, sorry.”
She has the nerve to look guilty, and I pull her into my side to keep her from fidgeting anymore.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not my first time.”
I wink, and she isn’t comforted by that statement, but it’s the best I can do.
“Dame, can you take her home?”
He nods and ducks into his room, leaving me to face Iris’s wrath alone.
“You’re seriously just going to go? Just like that?”
“Yes,” I tell her, shutting the door. “Now sit down before you kill me.”
Her arms cross, and she pouts, plush lips turning down as she drops onto the bed.
I dress quickly, while she does her best to keep still.
Every time she starts to fidget, I feel like I can’t breathe. So she sits on her hands in the center of my bed, not saying a word. But after a while, the silence starts to hurt too.
“Can you say something?” I request, when the sound of her drumming heartbeat grows too deafening.