He was off the bed before Grim scratched at the door. Without her cello, with eyes closed and replete from orgasm, she was irresistible.
He backed away, resisting only by distance and ruthless determination. What he wanted was to bury himself deep inside her, paired with her forever.
That wasn’t an option.
This hadn’t been, either, damn it. She opened her eyes and blinked. He backed farther away.
She knew. Had known before she’d allowed him to touch her. He wasn’t cold, but he was disciplined. He’d been disciplined for decades.
Until now.
Grim scratched again and whined urgently at the door. Something was wrong. Severne had sent him in pursuit when he’d seen Kat leave the salon after the crimson figure in the porcelain mask.
He didn’t pause to button his shirt. He didn’t say goodbye. He went to the door. She watched him leave. Silent. With large, dark eyes. The Cinderella shoes he’d given her were still seductively on her feet, a reminder of all he wanted to give her, but couldn’t, because he wasn’t a free man.
* * *
They had failed him.
Every potential he might have trusted to father seekers with the D’Arcy sisters.
Reynard had the man bound with heavy ropes after he himself repelled the hellhound. He wasn’t sure how badly he had injured the beast, but he’d seen the Brimstone flare. He’d heard the hound’s cries. It had disappeared back onto the cursed pathways only it could traverse.
But Saul had cried out the truth of where he’d been and whom he’d seen there.
“I found her. I’m the father of the next generation,” the monk cried.
His blood stained the ground in pools before he finally breathed his last.
“You found her, but you didn’t deliver her to me,” Reynard declared.
He didn’t have to wield the whip. Saul’s brothers completed the task, brutally punishing their fellow monk for leading a hellhound into their midst and for challenging their master with his final breaths. They whipped the robes from his back and then they flayed the skin from his bones.
Saul had failed.
The pride swelled in Reynard’s chest and elsewhere as he acknowledged the proof of his favor. He was Father Reynard. He was fully recovered. His blood pulsed as powerfully as it had when he’d first claimed the leadership role meant to be his.
The journey couldn’t be completed in an instant, but he made the calls and arrangements while Saul’s blood cooled. He had always structured the universe to his liking. He’d been too patient. Too kind. Nearly dying had changed that. He’d felt as if he had forever to complete his task. Now he knew better.
Katherine D’Arcy was his. And she would lead him to her sister. They’d both always belonged to him. The bracelets had been a gesture on his part. A mark of favor. But first their mother had spurned him, and now her daughters had betrayed him. They required stronger chains. He would bind them and he would use them, willing or not, to continue his mission.
It was time to bring his Katarina home.