*Maddy*
I watch as Ella walks up the stairs to her studio. She stands at the door for a moment, a door that’s been locked and charmed so that anyone who touches it gets zapped by a painful, bone crushing magic. We all learned our lesson the hard way with that one and spent a good deal of time having Isla tend our wounds.
I should turn away and leave her alone, but curiosity gets the best of me as I watch her close her eyes, her mouth moving but totally silent. Soft red light ripples through the woodgrain of the door before fading completely. She turns the knob and slips inside, the door closing and locking behind her.
I sigh with relief. Something about knowing Ella is tucked away in her studio with her paints, brushes, and canvases sets my heart at ease. Like everything is suddenly right in the world, and I can breathe again.
Even though I know that’s not the case. Not at all.
I linger at the bottom of the stairs to the tower that houses her studio for a moment, though, the sudden memory of her pulling us through one of her paintings flaring behind my eyes. I turn back to look up at the door, wondering if she’ll go through a painting tonight and disappear, run away like she said she was thinking about doing.
It would be her business if she did, I tell myself. Plus, I really don’t think she would, not after witnessing her devastation in the garden today. Today, I learned that Ella wears many masks. A mask for her family. A mask for her friends. Maybe even a mask that she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror.
But she dropped that mask for me today and let me see her for who, and what, she is.
I tuck my hands in the pockets of my cardigan and walk through the castle. I’m not tired. I don’t think I could sleep if I tried. How am I supposed to keep a secret from my mate as big as the one I just found out about today? That Ella, his own sister, stabbed him and purposefully put him in a magical coma?
I roll my eyes and blow out a breath.
Maybe that’s enough jaw dropping revelations for one day.
One lifetime, if I’m being honest.
I turn down the hallway to our bedroom but notice the library door is open just a crack, and a light is on inside. I arch a brow. Ella and I spent several hours in the garden before it started getting dark and tonight’s storm rolled in like clockwork.
It’s close to 10:00, and I’ve noticed the castle tends to settle early when storms rage outside, everyone taking a moment to listen to the thunder as it splits the sky.
Well, I do that, at least. Thunderstorms are new to me and just as magical as this family I’ve married into.
This light shouldn’t be on.
I open the door, peeking my head inside, and see Isaac standing halfway up one of the rolling ladders that has the ability to swing around the circumference of the library. He’s still in his day clothes–well fitted black trousers and a white button down shirt–but his ruffled appearance tells me he’s been here for a while. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and his hair is tousled and falling loose around his ears instead of the slicked back, well groomed style he een tames it into every morning.
His blue eyes scan the room before landing on me, just as I shut the door behind me and lean against it.
“Where’ve you been all day?” he asks in an inquisitive tone, looking me over from across the room. He tucks a book under his arm and begins to climb down the ladder, skipping the last few rungs and landing on his feet. He sets the book aside as he approaches.
“I’m supposed to ask you that,” I tease, pushing off the door and walking toward him. “I’ve been in the garden.”
“I can tell,” he smiles, exhaling as I wrap my arms around him in a tight embrace. He runs his knuckles down my back, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You smell like rain.”
“I did get rained on,” I laugh, looking up at him and resting my chin against his chest. His answering smile is something I can feel deep in my heart. The way he’s been looking at me lately is new–something born from the fact that we actually have a future together now. A future where we have children and grow old together, just like his parents. “I actually spoke to Ella today.”
Isaac releases me from our embrace and looks down at me. “Really?”
I nod, wondering if I made a mistake in even bringing it up. “She’s doing all right.”
He cocks his head. “Is that all?”
“She’s not ready to talk about it yet with anyone but me, and I gave her my word that I would keep what she told me to myself until she was ready to talk. So, please don’t ask me to tell you anything, because, Isaac… I’m kind of afraid of her.”
Isaac throws his head back and laughs, which is the first time I’ve heard his laugh in months. My whole body reacts to the sound, and tears prickle in the corner of my eyes as relief sweeps through me. “You’re just realizing how scary she is now? I’ve been terrified of her since she was born. She glared at me, you know, as a newborn. Anytime I’d come near her while Mom was holding her, I’d get those cat eyes and a scowl.”
“So you’ll leave it be?”
He touches my cheek, tracing the line of my cheekbones and jaw. “If you’re safe, and she’s safe, that’s all that matters to me.”
Supposing we are both safe for now, my heart sings with relief that I don’t have to tell him his own sister used her death magic to put him in a coma. I pray to the Goddess I’m busy whenever that conversation takes place and miss out on it entirely.
Feeling better, I step away from him and turn to the book he’d placed on one of the tables as I walked up to him. I run my fingers over the cover, the glossy material shining in the chandelier light.
“Bionics?” I look up at him, quirking a brow.
“For Cassian.” He shrugs, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. “He’s on one recently.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a laugh. I hop up and sit on the edge of the table, swinging my legs. “What does on one mean?”
“It means,” he begins, setting the book down and standing between my legs, one of his hands resting on my upper thigh, “he’s been using his missing arm to his advantage, both milking his injury to get what he wants, and to get out of what he doesn’t want to do, as well as throwing seasoned warriors around the sparring ring and tossing the fact that he defeated them with only three legs back in their faces.”
“Ah, I see,” I laugh. “So, Cassian is being Cassian more than ever?”
“He is. At least he finds some humor in the situation. It seems to have softened Hannah to him significantly, so that’s in his favor. But, one of the meetings I had today was with a very idealistic and enthusiastic healer who seems to think he can create a bionic arm for Cassian that can transform with him when he shifts.”
“Really?” I gasp. I remember thinking Isla might be able to regrow it for him when it had first been removed, but that hadn’t been the case.
He nods, “It’s true. He showed me his previous work. It’s expensive, but I think it’ll be worth it if Cassian agrees to it. The shifting aspect is still in the works, but he can have a prototype by the Winter Solstice.”
“That would make a wonderful Solstice gift.”
“I agree. I spent a good three hours talking about it with the man. I had to put off several meetings until the end of the week because of it.” He sighs, leaning his forehead against mine. “I owe you my life, Maddy, for stepping up the way you did when I was so inconveniently incapacitated.”
“It was incredibly inconvenient,” I tease, giggling as his hand roves up my thigh to that spot that tickles right beneath my hip bone.
“The Alphas find you to be an exceptional Luna. You oversaw all of the passing of titles in my stead, and that’s no easy feat.”
“I never knew Beta bloodlines were so complicated!”
“They really are. That’s why I chose my own.” His smile is just as enchanting as I remember from all those years ago at the ball. He brushes my hair over my shoulder, his hand drifting upward toward the swell of my belly. Every night, he lays with a hand settled protectively over that spot, nestling me and the baby close.
“I pray he has your eyes,” he whispers, brushing the words over my brow before pressing a featherlight kiss to my forehead. “Like the sky on the edge of a storm. Like tonight.” He leans back, tilting my chin so I have to look up into his face. “Like the moment before those dark, rain-filled clouds move in and block out the stars. The moment the sky fades to midnight blue just before the sunrise.”
His kiss drops lower, brushing over my temple. I lean my head to the side and close my eyes as his lips, warm and full of desire, find a spot behind my ear that makes me melt.
My heart rate spikes, thrumming in my chest. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I let him guide me back against the surface of the table.
I’m lost in his touch, my mind going blissfully blank as he pulls up my dress so it rests above my hips.
I can count the number of times we’ve been able to be together like this on one hand. Before the war, those few, precious times before and shortly after we married. The past week that he’s been back has been wrought by meetings with the Alphas, formal dinners, and family meetings that span into the early hours of the morning. Isaac has to rebuild his armies and his territory, making sure the families who lost loved ones in the war are safe and provided for–for life.
Several nights in a row, he’s come home in the late hours of the night and fallen into bed beside me, asleep before his heada hits the pillow, fully dressed with his shoes on.
But tonight, he’s mine.
I curl my fingers over his back, scrunching his shirt in my fist as he presses hungry, desperate kisses down my neck. He inhales deeply, taking in my scent, and growls with satisfaction, a noise that sets my blood on fire.
“Mate,” he growls, tugging the top of my dress down over my breasts. The thin fabric rips. I gasp, and he smirks. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He shoves the sleeves of my cardigan down and proceeds to rip my dress down the center, all the way to my navel. A rush of cool air ripples over my skin, my nipples peeking. I barely have time to process the fact I’m bared to him and linger in the shyness I feel. It’s been months, and my pregnant body feels so new and foreign.
His hands on my skin soothe away that self consciousness in the space of a breath, and I relax into his worship.
I show him the same treatment he showed my dress, and rip his shirt open, buttons scattering across the library and bouncing on the hardwood floor.
“Lock the door,” I whisper into his ear. He smiles against my neck, and from across the room, I hear the lock click into place spurred by his strange, but very useful in situations like this, power.
The next few seconds are a dance of getting the rest of our clothes off. He slides my panties down, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin between my thighs. My eyes are heavy with desire as he traces his fingers over the curve of my knee and back up my thighs, his eyes focused on me, my body, how new it must look to him.
“You’re glowing, Maddy.”
“You’re lying,” I whisper, my mouth curving into a smile as his fingers trace back down my thighs and up again. I arch my back into his touch, my hair spilling onto the table, fanning out around my head.
“You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now.” His fingers slide through my slit, and he groans low in his throat at the warm, wet heat that meets him. “Fuck, Maddy.”
I watch him through hooded eyes, keeping my gaze fixed on his face as he does his best to maintain control of his primal urges to ravish me like he obviously wants to. I can see it behind his eyes, that heat, that feral desire that makes me want him to bend me over this table and do whatever he wants with me. I’d beg on my knees for him to totally unleash himself, to give in to his darkest dreams.
But he’s trying to be gentle, and I understand why. I’m different. Softer. I feel it as much as he does.
His eyes flick to mine, dark with need.
“Mate,” I whimper as his fingers circle my clit and then press inside me. He pulls them out and places his hands on my thighs, nudging my legs apart, and slides his cock through my wetness once, then twice, and presses in slowly. I arch my hips to meet him, taking him deeper, and his fingers dig into the swell of my hips as he bows his head and groans.
He fills me, stretching me to take him all in. My name is on his lips as he pulls out and thrusts in again, harder this time, until he’s sheathed to the hilt, and I’m crying out his name like a prayer.
I lose track of time and space. I forget we’re in the library, and I’m naked on a table with him standing between my knees. I’m splayed out like a feast, and he’s a starving man.
He leans down, caging me in with his body, and takes my mouth in his, kissing me so deeply I lose my breath. I meet him thrust for thrust, canting my hips and grinding against him until he’s panting and biting down on my neck, his hand tangled in my hair. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him there.
“I love you,” I moan, throwing my head back and moaning without restraint. The sound of my pleasures echoes through the library, mingling with his as his free hand grips my waist and he thrusts into me so hard the table slides several inches backward, two of the chairs falling on their sides.
Sparks rush up and down my legs, settling between my thighs and exploding with white-hot ecstasy that has me seeing stars and clamping down around him. He roars my name, letting go of my hair to grip the edge of the table above my head, pressing deep inside me as he comes.
Sweat glistens on our bodies. as he holds me there, his cock rigid and pumping deep inside me, filling me up.
I want to stay like this forever.
And I realize that we can. Sort of. We have a future now, even if it’s uncertain. I am safe in his arms. Our child rests deep in my belly and will be born into a loving family. Our child. The future Alpha King.
Isaac carrasses my face and whispers, “Mate, I love you,” over my cheek before pulling out of me and picking me up off the table. He helps me into his shirt and quickly pulls on his pants before lifting me again and carrying me back to our room where he lays me on the bed and stands back to look at me.
Neither of us will be sleeping tonight, not with that hungry look still lingering in his eyes.
Thank the Goddess.