Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment)

by Airicka Phoenix

  I’m an ass, was his first thought.

  Instead, he slipped off the bed and stood over her. “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded without reservation. “Yes.”

  He pushed both fists into the mattress on either side of her hips as he leaned down to touch his brow to hers. “Then I ask you to trust me.” He brushed back a curl off her eyes. “I will make it up to you.” Straightening, he reached for the glass he’d set on the nightstand. He brought it to her and pressed it into her hands. “Rest. I’ll join you in a little while.”

  Without giving her a chance to seduce him back into bed, he strode into the bathroom and locked himself in. He tore off the towel and climb into the shower still warm and wet from their earlier bath. His determination was fused into a plan by the time he snapped the water on and drowned himself in the first real shower in weeks.

  Chapter 47

  The planning had been simple as most things usually were when they were half-baked and wedged deep in the recess of a muddled mind. It was the follow through that had him seeking professional advice.

  “Mom?”

  Kyaerin Maxwell glanced up from the papers on her desk, blue eyes enormous behind her glasses. She reminded Octavian of a baby owl when she blinked. “Yes darling?”

  “I need your help.”

  Curious, she removed her glasses, closed the handles and set them neatly on her papers. “What is it?”

  He knew that if anyone could help him follow through with what needed to be done, and make sure it was done properly, it was his mother.

  “What do you think?” he asked, once he was finished laying out his idea.

  His mother watched him for a moment, a second too long before she did something he never expected. She burst into tears.

  Horrified, Octavian rushed to her, mind a jumble of confusion and guilt as he struggled to untangle what he’d said to upset her. It was pure rotten luck on his part when Gideon, Magnus and his father strolled into the parlor and caught him in the act of comforting his sobbing mother.

  “Kyaerin?” His father rushed to her.

  The guilt must have been painted on Octavian’s face, because Gideon rounded on him. “What did you do?”

  Still stunned, Octavian could only open and shut his mouth while rocking his head from side to side in mute denial of his blame.

  “No, no.” His mother sniffled. “Octavian hasn’t done anything. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit emotional of late. Ignore me.” She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a Kleenex his father pressed into her hand. “Yes, of course I’ll help you.”

  But now he wasn’t sure he wanted her to. It was so unlike his mother to fall apart like that for no reason. He wondered if he wasn’t to blame for the stress she was under.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll think of something.”

  She shook her head as she rose to her feet. “No, I’m sorry, baby. It’s just…” She wiped at her nose with the balled up Kleenex. “I swear you were still just a wee little babe in my arms just yesterday…” Her voice broke as she broke into a fresh set of sobs.

  Octavian exchanged panicked glances with his brothers, wondering if there was still time to sneak out of the room.

  “And now,” she croaked. “You’ve found your mate and Reggie has found his and you’re both growing up and moving on…”

  “About time I say,” Gideon jumped in. “Those centuries just… poof in the blink of an eye.”

  Their mother gave him a dry glower. “It’s not the same. It doesn’t matter how many centuries have passed. I just… I just never thought I’d see the day when my babies would finally start families of their own and…” Her lower lip wobbled, fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m just so happy.”

  “You know what else says happy?” Gideon said. “Smiles. Hugs. Oh, chocolates.”

  Magnus elbowed him.

  Their mother chuckled. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.” She wiped roughly at her cheeks and forced a smile. “I say we do it tonight because we have to reopen the diner tomorrow.”

  He crept into the room he shared with Riley, so careful to avoid every creaky floorboard and every rustle of the plastic parcel in his hand on his way to the bed where she lay on her back, her hair a basket of spilled ribbons across the pillow. She had one hand curled delicately next to her slightly parted lips and the other rested lightly on her abdomen. She reminded him of Sleeping Beauty, so enchanting in sleep, waiting for the kiss of her prince to awaken her. It took all his resolve not to do it, to not bend down and let her sweet flavor fill his senses. Instead, he carefully lay his package down on the foot of the bed and crept over to her.

  “Riley.” He ghosted his fingers lightly along her cheek, tracing the gentle swell to the corner of her lips. “Wake up.”

  Thick, dark lashes fluttered and then lifted so he was caught in the sleepy depths of her beautiful eyes. She blinked once and then did something that stole every breath in his body; she smiled.

  “Hey, handsome,” she whispered, her voice temptingly husky from sleep. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

  “Because I have something for you.”

  Her eyebrow went up even as her gaze dropped to his hands. “What?”

  He grinned, offering her his empty hands. “You’ll have to come with me.”

  Eyes narrowed warily, she placed her fingers in his and let him guide her out of bed. “All right.”

  “But before we can proceed.” He released her and reached for the dress bag he’d set aside. “You need to dress the part.”

  The sharp little points of her fangs flashed as she laughed. “Must be somewhere important if I have to get dressed.”

  “I don’t know about important,” he mused. “But I’m hoping it will be memorable.”

  With delight shining in her eyes, she took the hanger and dress from him and hurried into the washroom. She left the door slightly ajar as she changed. He heard the faucet run for a several minutes, heard the rustle of plastic as she unzipped the protective sheath around the dress. He held his breath as he waited for her reaction. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her gasp, which could have meant anything. But it was her scream of sheer girly delight that made him grin.

  “Octavian!” She was through the door like a bolt of lightning and in his arms in nothing but her under things. Her excited squeals rang in his ears as he scooped her off the ground and pressed her close. Eyes shining like rubies, she pulled back to peer into his face. “How did you know?”

  It took a great deal of control to maintain an expression that exuded confidence and self-assurance and not bone crippling relief. She would never know how close she’d come to getting a lamp because she would never know just how ridiculously horrible he was at picking gifts.

  “I saw you the day you were looking at it,” he said, silently patting himself on the back for his memory.

  “But it…” She shook her head. “It must have cost a fortune.”

  “Not really.” Truthfully, he had no idea how much it had cost. He’d walked in, told the woman the size he needed and given her his card. He hadn’t cared to ask how much.

  “I can’t accept—”

  His fingers were on her lips, stilling her words. “I tossed the receipt. They won’t take it back. It’s too late. You have to wear it or it’ll go to waste.”

  He could see the war raging behind her eyes, see the temptation luring her to succumb. “Octavian…”

  He traced the pouty curve of her bottom lip with his fingertips. “Please, baby. I want to see you in it. You don’t want to hurt my feelings do you?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “You don’t play fair.”

  He grinned. “You’ll forgive me. I promise.”

  She smiled at him. “I do love it. Thank you.”

  Planting a kiss onto his cheek, she bounced back into the bathroom. When she emerged a few moments later, she was a vision in the red gown he’d seen her eyeing the afternoon she’d helped him find birthday pres
ent for his mom. The thing had looked like any other dress in his opinion, but the forlorn longing in her eyes when she’d been seen it… he hated that look. He wanted never to see it in her eyes ever again. That look she’d just given him as she bounded out of the bathroom with stars in her eyes and the biggest, brightest smile on her face… that was a look he wanted to see always. But more than anything, he wanted to be the one to make her squeal with unadulterated delight like she just had. That sound was the thing of Angels. He wanted to box that sound up and keep it in his pocket.

  “What do you think?” she asked, spreading her arms open wide and doing a little twirl that had the puffy part of the dress balloon and the gems along the waist and down the skirt glitter.

  In his eyes, the dress was like any other dress, but on her, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It brought out the soft flush in her cheeks and the color in her eyes. Against her soft, alabaster complexion, it was fire. She’d done that thing that women were so good at with her face. Her eyes were smoky and luminous against her face. Her lips were a vivid red that matched her dress. Her cheeks were just the right shade of pink to give her an air of innocence that made him want to ravage her. She wore no shoes and her small, naked toes poked out from beneath the hem.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes from her.

  She dropped her gaze, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She brushed the skirt with small nervous hands. “Thank you.”

  “We’re just missing one last thing.”

  “Shoes?” she murmured, glancing down at her toes, which wiggled.

  Octavian’s lips twitched. “Not quite.”

  He reached behind him and produced a sleek, black scarf from his back pocket. He held it up, eyebrow raised in challenge.

  Riley bit her bottom lip. She was getting really good at that, he noted. She hadn’t accidently poked herself once with her fangs.

  “I’m nervous,” she whispered, turning her back to him. “I’m not sure how I like surprises.”

  He gently lowered the fabric over her eyes and fastened it in place at the back of her head. “Haven’t you ever had a surprise before?”

  She shook her head. “No. Never.”

  He made a deep humming sound as he let his fingers drift down and lightly brush her bare shoulders.

  “Well, we will have to change that.” He pressed a tender kiss to the spot stitching her neck and shoulder into place. A shiver passed beneath his lips. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “But I don’t have shoes.”

  He took her fingers. “You don’t need them.”

  With her hand in his, he guided her from the room, down the stairs to the kitchen. Carefully, he led her through the swinging doors into the dining area.

  “Okay, wait right here,” he murmured as he released her for just a second to double check that everything was in its place. He knew his mother would have taken care of all the little details, but he couldn’t help being a tad nervous. He wanted this moment to be perfect for her.

  Satisfied that nothing had been forgotten, he returned to her. “Okay?” he asked her as he took both of her hands and drew her deeper into the room to the spot he needed her.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice wavering only slightly.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time,” he told her, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “But everything kept happening and…” He slid his hand up her right arm to lightly trace the mark on the inside of her elbow. “I’ll understand if this isn’t something you want and we don’t ever have to speak of it again—”

  “You’re making me nervous, Octavian,” she whispered with only a hint of teasing in her otherwise tense tone.

  “Sorry.” Releasing her hand, he reached for the blindfold and undid the knot. It slipped off her face and he watched as she blinked, bringing the room into focus.

  Her eyes widened. Her jaw slackened. She stared with a look of absolute wonderment. “Oh my!” she breathed, covering her mouth as she did a circle.

  Candlelight reflected in her eyes and danced off her skin. It shimmered over every gem on her dress. The room was aglow with the hundreds of fat, white candles and water lilies floating in bowls of water. A fire blazed in the hearth, crackling merrily in the silence. Along the stone lip sat the required single white ribbon, the incense sticks, the goblet of water, and the bowl of white rose petals needed to complete the ceremony.

  Riley turned to him. “What is this?”

  The moment of truth, he thought, his gut clenching.

  “Riley, I love you. I love absolutely everything about you and I want to bind my future with yours… if you’ll have me.”

  Tears glistened like diamonds in the firelight as they clung to her lashes. “I don’t know what that means.” She laughed uncertainly. “But I love you, too.”

  “Selkies don’t have weddings. We have binding ceremonies where the eldest in the group binds the couple imprinted. I want to bind my heart and soul to yours.”

  A tear slipped her lashes and caught on the corner of her lip. “You want to marry me?”

  “With everything in me.” He gently swiped away the tear. “Will you have me?”

  For a second time that night, she threw herself into his arms.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “I want it so much.”

  Swamped by an overwhelming sense of relief, Octavian gripped her close. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Behind them, the kitchen door opened and his father emerged, followed closely by his mother and then his brothers. Riley pulled away as they took their positions around them. As the eldest preforming the ceremony, his father stood by the fire. His mother stood by Riley as her patron. As the second eldest, Gideon took the same position by Octavian while Reggie and Magnus stood three feet away as witnesses.

  His father began, starting off with a prayer in Gaelic about new beginnings and treasured moments. He knew Riley didn’t understand it, but she seemed so enthralled, he doubted it mattered.

  When his father finished and turned for the items by the fire, Riley’s craned her neck to see. Her eagerness endeared him.

  His father took up the ribbon, held it over the fire for a second before coming to them. Octavian held out his hand to Riley, and watched as she willingly placed her hand in his. He curled his fingers around hers and gave a light squeeze, but it was his heart that was squeezed back when she met his gaze and smiled.

  “Trust.” His father wrapped the ribbon once around their joined hands. “Unity.” Another wrap. “And devotion.”

  He turned their hands on their side. Turning his back on them, he lit the incense stick in the hearth fire then tucked it between their fingers so they both held it.

  “Breath from air,” his father said. “Water.” He gave Octavian the goblet filled with water in his free hand. “From life.”

  Octavian brought the goblet to Riley’s lips in indication that she drink. When she took a sip, he passed the goblet to her. She repeated the gesture. He watched her over the rim as he drank.

  His father took the cup, pulled out the incense stick from their joined fingers and replaced it with the rose petals.

  “Body from earth,” he said. Taking their wrists in hand, he guided them over to the hearth. “Soul from fire.” He made them release the petals into the flames. As the petals shriveled up, perfuming the air with its subtle scent, his father turned them to the small group. “You were born from ashes, you will die of ashes. Never forget where you have begun or risk forgetting where you will end. From this moment, your journey starts together and only together shall it end.”

  Hands still bound, Octavian pulled Riley to him. “Tá grá agam duit. Is liomsa thú agus is leatsa mé anois is go deo,” he murmured before lowering his mouth to hers.

  The kiss wasn’t part of the ritual, but he couldn’t help it. He’d waited long enough to taste her. He couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer.

  She tasted of passion and warm nights over sandy b
eaches. She tasted of heaven and sin, of lust and temptation and all the things that were designed to make a man fall. She was the forbidden apple and he was aching to take a bit. He was ravenous and she was his sacrifice. God, he couldn’t get enough of her.

  A soft, discreet cough reminded him they still stood in the middle of the altar, his family looking on as he half claimed his wife right there on the spot.

  Riley was misty-eyed and flushed when he finally coerced himself to draw away. Her small hands gripped tightly to his lapel.

  “Don’t let go,” she whispered just for his ears. She giggled. “I can’t feel my legs.”