Chapter 23 #3
She turns to Lorcan, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful, eyebrows drawn together in that way that tells me her brain is about to spiral into some absurd tangent.
"And you," she says, pointing at him. "You're like… a swan."
I blink.
Jino makes a noise that might be a suppressed laugh.
Lorcan's face goes carefully blank. "A swan."
"Yes. Hear me out." Emmaleen starts gesturing, warming to her topic.
"Swans are these elegant, beautiful creatures that glide across the water all graceful and serene, right?
Very romantic. Very oh look at the pretty swan in the park.
" She pauses. "But underneath the surface, their little webbed feet are paddling like crazy.
Just absolute chaos happening below the waterline that no one sees. "
She looks at Lorcan with an intensity that makes him shift his weight.
"That's you. You've got this whole refined Irish aristocrat thing—the three-piece suits, the castle, the liturgy—but underneath?
" She laughs. "You're paddling so hard you're about to take flight.
Which, fun fact, swans are actually vicious when threatened.
They'll break your arm with their wings.
They hiss. They're territorial as fuck and will chase you across an entire lake if you piss them off. "
Lorcan opens his mouth.
Emmaleen keeps going.
"Also, swans mate for life. Like, they pick one partner and that's it.
Total devotion. They build nests together, raise babies together, and if one dies, the other one gets depressed.
" She tilts her head. "You're a monogamous chaos bird pretending to be a romantic poet, and honestly? It works for you."
The room is completely silent.
Then Jino laughs so loud, it echoes off the ceiling.
Emmaleen turns to Jino with that manic gleam in her eyes that means she's about to unload something completely unhinged.
"And you," she says, pointing at him. "You're a mantis shrimp."
I have no idea what that is.
Jino tilts his head. "A what?"
"Mantis. Shrimp." She enunciates each syllable like she's teaching vocabulary to kindergarteners.
"They're these tiny ocean creatures that look harmless—kinda pretty, actually, with their rainbow shells—but they have the fastest punch in the animal kingdom.
Like, faster than a bullet. They can literally boil the water around their claws when they strike. "
She's gesturing wildly now, fully committed to this metaphor.
"They also have sixteen color receptors in their eyes. Humans have three. Dogs have two. Mantis shrimp have sixteen." She pauses for dramatic effect. "Which means they see colors we can't even imagine. They perceive reality on a completely different level than everyone else."
Jino hasn't moved, but I notice the smile creeping up his face.
"That's you," Emmaleen continues. "You see everything. Every micro-expression. Every hesitation. Every single tiny deviation from protocol that I think I'm getting away with." She laughs, but there's genuine exasperation underneath.
She crosses her arms.
"Also, mantis shrimp are solitary. They live alone in their little burrows and only come out to hunt or mate. Very territorial. Very particular about their space." She looks pointedly at Jino. "Sound familiar?"
Lorcan is trying not to smile.
I'm cataloging this entire breakdown for later.
The accuracy of her assessment hits.
She sees us. Actually sees us—not the suits, not the power, not the carefully constructed personas we wear like armor.
And she's choosing to stay anyway.
"This is my gift to Emmaleen," I say, once again looking at Lorcan. "She needs romance. Softness. She needs to talk books with someone. And do I look like a man who reads that hack, Declan Cross? Fiction? It's beneath me and I'm not going to apologize for it."
I sigh. It's good natured, this offer. And genuine too.
But it's a little sad that I have to admit this shortfall. Because I could, possibly, try harder. I could… change.
But even if I did that, I'll never be Lorcan.
And she deserves a Lorcan in her life.
"If Emmaleen is willing," I continue, still talking to Lorcan, "to sacrifice her autonomy to please me, should I not be wiling to sacrifice my ego to please her?"
When I look over at Emmaleen, I find her on the verge of tears. "My king."
"You do," I tell her. "You deserve the whole world. I'll do anything to make sure you get it."
"So it's settled." Jino says. "But just so we're clear, if you play with breath, I'm there." He points at me. "That includes every fucking blow job."
I nod. "Agreed." then I look at Lorcan, waiting for his decision.
He takes a breath, looking at Emmaleen. "You're OK with this? If I bend ya over in the Prie-dieu, makin' ya recite prayers to my cock?"
"They're not really prayers to your cock, my Saint. They're a homage to your protection. But yes. Your weird kink lights me up."
It hits me now, just how far I've come since I met this crazy woman in the yellow cardigan.
She started as a game. A toy. A plaything.
But only minutes into the arrangement, she'd already won.
She stopped being a game the moment she rambled about Mercury retrograde affecting Starbucks' seasonal menu and I actually wanted to hear where the tangent was going.
She gave herself to me completely. Committed to everything I asked of her from day one.
I've killed for her once, and I'll do it again if I have to.
I'll burn this entire fucking world down to keep her safe.
I'll let my cousin edge her into subspace if it eases the cravings she has for submission.
I'll hand her over to the capable hands of my best friend it if means she gets to have a real romance.
And I'll chain that monster inside me to a fucking wall if it means I get to keep her forever, entwine it in all eight of my tentacles.
From predator to guardian.
From weapon to shield.
I chose love.
My chains, my choice.