Chapter 7 #4
Presh bites her lip as her gaze flicks over my shoulder toward her looming brothers. But then she nods vigorously.
Laughing quietly, because I can literally feel myself warming from within in her presence, I step toward the others. Coda looks pissed as fuck, Gigi is detached, and DeVille only has eyes for Presh. Though that gaze is currently narrowed as if he caught what she just whispered to me.
Energy wells behind me, sharp and malignant. Bones snap.
Rought shouts a warning. But by the time I turn around, placing Presh behind me, I already find myself nose-to-nose with a hulking cu-sith.
Ears pressed back against his wide skull, the beast bares his teeth, soundlessly huffing. Hot breath explodes across my cheeks. Then, just enough for it to be intentional, the cu-sith lowers his head and twists to expose his neck. No hint of Reck in the blazing red eyes or malevolent essence.
“Totally believable,” I huff right back. Then, because apparently I’m still not in possession of all my wits, I reach up and run the flat of my hand up the cu-sith’s long snout and between his wide-spaced eyes, massaging his forehead.
The cu-sith presses lightly into my touch, squinting.
“There are no threads between us,” I whisper. I already knew that, felt that severed bond in my own hands as it dissipated into the aether. But still, the loss aches through my chest.
Undeterred, the cu-sith presses his nose lightly against my chest, right where I should have a tattoo of an anatomical floral heart.
“Fine,” I say, forcing myself to move through the residual numbness, through the incredible loss that has hollowed me out from within. I lost those bonds and that future many years ago. Mourning that loss in the now is useless. “You can tag along. But no interference.”
Rath swears viciously, but the cu-sith is so huge I can’t see either of my mates behind him.
“Bellamy?” Presh presses her shoulder to mine, showing not even a hint of fear of her eldest brother’s beast.
“Absolutely not, Zaya,” Rath says from somewhere behind the cu-sith. “We’re not going up against the Outcast for the dire awry, not yet. You just got back. You’re clearly exhausted. We need to debrief. We need to know what’s coming.”
“See what I’m up against?” Presh whispers. Then she adds, loudly, “Bellamy has been imprisoned for as long as you’ve been gone.”
“Imprisoned …” Rath huffs.
He’s certainly not wrong about the debriefing. But instead, I say, “I doubt the Outcast’s cells are strong enough to hold her.” I’m massaging behind the cu-sith’s ear now. The beast tilts his head obligingly, closing his eyes. “If she wanted to leave.”
“That’s why we have to go get her,” Presh says, reaching up to run her fingers through the thick green fur on the cu-sith’s neck. “It’s like … it’s a gesture, you know? That she can trust us.”
The cu-sith’s red eyes slit open for a moment, gazing at the young awry. Then the beast allows the touch to continue.
It’s more than possible I’m a terrible influence on Precious. A terrible role model for a younger awry — and further to that thought, Cal flits through my mind. But … if Presh wants to gather all her siblings to her, then I’m not going to stand in her way.
Rought’s incredible patience has apparently been stretched long enough, because he shoulders around the cu-sith, knocking a bunch of the tables to the side. Then he pulls me into his arms.
Not that I don’t reach for him at the exact same time.
The cu-sith shifts back just enough to give us a little space.
Rought curls around me, pressing chest to chest so I can feel the energy of our bond pulsing between us.
“That was very … difficult,” he murmurs against my ear.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Let’s not do it again.” He presses his forehead against mine, one hand moving to cup the back of my neck.
I lay my hand over his chest, over where I know his heart tattoo is etched into his skin. I meet his gaze steadily. I want to protect all of them, especially from their father, but I understand so much more about the bonds between us now. “Agreed.”
Energy shifts through Rought. Relaxing, as if he’s been holding it ready. For an argument with me? Or just primed to defend us all from attack?
Presh wiggles her way into the hug, looping our arms over her shoulders and laying her head against her brother’s chest.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye — DeVille shifting side to side and eyeing us. I raise my hand. The younger shifter takes the invitation without further prompting, crowding up against Presh but careful not to touch her. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck.
Gigi and Coda have stepped back through the still open doors. The combat mage is keeping herself between the cu-sith and the tech awry as they quietly converse.
“That your new car in the lot, Zaya?” DeVille asks hopefully. “She is a beauty. I’ve never seen one in —”
“Andy,” Presh groans, “we’re having a nice moment.”
DeVille shrugs. “Yeah, so?”
I laugh quietly. “You want to drive?”
“Fuck yes!” DeVille is already pulling back from the loose embrace. “Keys?”
“In the car,” I say, guessing. Because I actually have no idea.
“Take Presh with you,” Rought says.
“I’m not a piece of luggage,” Presh grouses, but she steps back willingly enough. Her gaze is fixed to me, though, as if she’s concerned I’m going to disappear.
“I met your brother Cal,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “What? Another brother?”
I nod. Rath and Rought exchange a glance that confirms they didn’t know. “I’ll tell you all about him on the drive to the pack house.”
“DeVille,” Rath rumbles, arms crossed, feet still planted by the back wall with the map, “if you go against the Outcast, even just in Zaya’s wake, you’ll never patch in.”
DeVille pauses at the open door, glancing back. His gaze falls on Presh instead of Rath though. “Yeah.” He shrugs again. “I already knew that.”
Rath shakes his head but doesn’t stop the teens from leaving.
“Make yourself useful,” Rought says to the cu-sith, clearly pissed. Though presumably at his elder brother, not the beast.
The cu-sith eyes him malevolently.
“I’ll be right there,” I murmur, though I know that Reck isn’t presently in control.
The cu-sith blinks at me, then pads silently from the bar. Literally silently. A creature that size should not be able to move that quietly, especially with the squeeze through the door so tight.
Rath starts to speak. “Zaya, I need to know —”
Then Rought sweeps me into his arms and off my feet for a blazing, soul-encompassing kiss. Wrapping my legs around him, I thread my fingers through his hair, gripping him tightly.
Time stills as we slide into one of those pockets, those protected bubbles, where it’s just us — lips and tongues, bodies pressed as close as they can be while there’s too much clothing between us.
Rought holds me hard at the back of my neck, gripping my ass with his other hand.
Energy — pure essence — shifts between us everywhere we touch, and my chest warms where the bond hooks into my ribcage.
He pulls back just enough to speak. “Not again. Promise, Zaya. Not without me.”
“I promise. It shouldn’t have happened even that once, but —”
He cuts off my justification of my actions with another rough kiss. Even the hint of a promise that I’ll take him with me next time was all he needed to hear.
“She should have been safe,” Rath rasps. “With Reck.”
Rought pulls back from our kiss just enough to nod. Anger and frustration filter through our connection. Though at his eldest brother, not at me or the situation.
I press my face against Rought’s to meet Rath’s gaze. Rought’s new unruly beard is delightfully scratchy, but it’s a completely inappropriate time to remark on that … or where exactly I might like to feel it rub next. “Reck couldn’t have known —”
“He knew,” Rath snaps. “We all know what the Cataclysm is capable of, and him even more than us.”
“Let him hide in his beast,” Rought says. “For now.”
Rath grimaces. “Dangerous.”
“Not with Zaya home.”
Rath’s gaze narrows on me. “I need to know if he’s coming for you. We don’t have eyes on him, but he ran from us.” He hesitates before adding, “The three of us, together.”
“He’ll come after me,” I say. “But I made a bit of a mess on my way back. That might distract him for a few days.”
Rought stifles a laugh. Rath shakes his head at both of us.
“I felt you,” I say, pressing a light kiss to Rought’s lips. “So far away, but … it kept me …” My voice breaks, and my soul-bound mate doesn’t make me continue.
“Yes,” Rought whispers against my own lips. “That was enough to keep me going. Then I could feel you on your way back to me … and I knew you were okay.”
“I need that debrief, Zaya,” Rath repeats, voice gruff as he clearly struggles internally. Perhaps holding himself back, perhaps in frustration.
Rought loosens his grip, sliding me down his body until I get my feet under me.
I meet Rath’s gaze steadily. And for one of the first times in my life that I can remember, I ask for something solely for myself.
“And I need you, Rath. I need to fortify the bond the dragon holds. I need … I need us to have threads between us. I don’t ever want to watch you fall from the fucking sky and not know if you’re still alive or not.”
He stares at me. His expression is hard, inscrutable.
“With sex,” I say. “Just to be clear.”
Rought chuckles under his breath.
Rath huffs. “I know how it works, Zaya.”
I grin at him unrepentantly. “I should hope so.”
A slow grin transforms Rath’s face. And for a brief moment, I can see more of the boy, the teenager, from Mack’s photographs standing before me.
“I think I can dust off one or two of our practice sessions, Tempest. Just give me a couple of hours to coordinate with the Outcast and, depending on that conversation, hopefully fortify our defenses.”