by Lucy Smoke
“You should make time for something like this,” he says slowly. “Because maybe if you aren’t with Titus then that leaves you open to be with someone else and maybe this whole situation with Titus reveals to someone else that you’re willing for that to happen.”
His warm breath fans over my face. “I-I—”
“Nerys,” Holden whispers.
“I’ll always be Coen’s best friend,” I say. “It doesn’t matter who I end up with romantically.”
Holden pulls back, brows drawn down in surprise and confusion. He takes a second to stare at me as if judging if I’m being serious or not.
I’m completely serious though. I know he noticed Coen’s actions, everyone did.
He sighs. “You are dense, princess.” With a sad shake of his head, he pulls away even more. “I wasn’t talking about your friend. I was talking about me.”
I gape at him like a fish out of water. He isn’t seriously saying…? What is he saying?! Holden can’t be interested in me as well, can he? One look into his grave brown eyes, I know it’s true though. How could I have missed that?
“You’re a special girl, Nerys.” What am I supposed to say to that? “I mean what kind of person practically jumps in front of bounty hunters to save someone else? What kind of person doesn’t cut and run?” He glares at me accusingly.
“Someone who cares about you,” I snap. “Someone who didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well, you could have been hurt!” he snaps back. “You’re not as tough as you think you are, princess.
“You think I don’t know that?!” I push back against his chest until he steps away.
“No, I don’t think you do,” he growls. “I think you think you’re invincible. At least, you act like you do.”
“What else am I supposed to do, Holden?” I ask. “Fall apart? Cry? I know I’m not invincible. If this last week hasn’t taught me that, nothing will. I’ve fainted more in the past few days than I have in my entire life! I am scared and I know I could get hurt. But when you were in trouble, it didn’t matter because you’re my friend!”
“I don’t want to be your friend!” Holden snaps. I stare at him for a long time the hurt welling up inside me before his next words cut it away and drop the ground out from under me. “I want to be more.”
I blink at him, shocked, unmoving. I don’t know what to say, but I find my lips opening and one words slipping out anyway. “Why?”
⚜⚜⚜
He left. A part of me can’t believe Holden just left. Another part of me understands that it’s my fault. Instead of answering me, Holden had just stared at me with those dark eyes of his before turning around and striding out the door, slamming it closed behind him.
I watch the door even as I get ready for bed. He was supposed to stay here and watch me and I don’t want to cause any more fights which would happen if any of the rest of the guys came back and found me alone, so I don’t go after him. No matter how much I want to.
I’m under the covers, trying not to think about all of the places Holden could get into trouble when something slams into the door, startling me. I jerk up and slide out of bed, expecting soldiers to come through the door when the knob turns and I hear Holden’s lyrical voice release a curse. The door swings inward and he nearly slams his face into the floor before I’m there, trying to keep him steady.
“Where have you been?” I demand.
He grunts and pushes me away, stripping out of his shirt and pants as he stumbles for the bed, leaving only his underwear on. I try not to stare too hard at golden tanned skin of his, but it’s difficult. The only thing marring his incredible body is the light bruising on his side and little scars spread out across his skin, some on his arms, some on his chest and stomach, and some on his legs. I want to touch each and every one and ask where he got them all. Presently, however, I’m more worried about adding to that scar count since he completely misses the bed and rolls off the other side, cursing again when he hits the floor.
“Holden?” I peer over the bed as I keep a tight leash on my frustration.
“Princess?” he grabs a handful of the blanket and jerks it from the bed and over his half naked body.
I sigh, scooting over the surface of the mattress to see him better. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for some shut eye.”
“I understand that, but why are you on the floor?” His dark curling hair peeks out from beneath the covers and an arm shoots out, a fist wrapping around my hand before I’m jerked down to the floor with him. He rolls closer, spooning my back against his front. I stiffen.
“Holden,” I warn.
“Because, princess.” His warm breath washes over the skin behind my neck and I shiver. “I don’t always do what Booker tells me to.” He kisses the skin of my shoulder revealed by the big collar of the sleep shirt I’ve borrowed from one of the guys. The action sends tingles shooting down my spine. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be less mad at you in the morning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His brown eyes bore into mine and when I expect him to smile and make a joke but he doesn’t.
“Nerys.” Holden’s whisper travels over my skin, raising gooseflesh on my arms. “Why do you have to be so…”
“So what?” My question ends on a gasp as his hands open on my stomach and I suck it in self-consciously as he pulls me back even harder against him.
“You’re so soft,” he whispers. Holden touches his lips to my neck and runs them up and down. My thoughts scatter like a group of terrified fish, swimming in every direction. I can’t even remember my damn name.
“I–your–you...oh.”
Holden opens his mouth as I attempt a mild protest and sinks his teeth into the column of my throat. When I gasp, back arching, he uses the movement to pull me a little further into him and flip me so that my back is against the bed and he hovers over top, sucking my skin between his teeth.
“You taste so sweet,” he says. “Like the best treasure I could ever steal.”
“Steal?” I try grabbing onto a thought and holding it like it’s an anchor that will keep me from drifting away. He pulls away to look down at me.
“That’s all I am, princess. A thief. No one protects a thief. No one cries over me or risks their lives for me. Gods, when those bounty hunters had you and I was on the ground, I couldn’t…” He chokes up. I didn’t realize how upset he had been about the bounty hunter incident. I touch his face.
“You would have done the same thing for me.” I frown as I reach up, thumbing away the creases on his forehead. His face is brimming with pain and regret. A dark storm rising as he grips me hard.
“You’ve been so honest with us, princess.” Every time he says my nickname is melts something inside of me, creating a gooey internal ocean at the sound of his voice and those syllables. “With me. But, I haven’t been. You think I’m your protector, your sweet, teasing protector.”
“You are,” I say. Holden shakes his head, the dark hair sliding back and forth across his forehead.
“I’m not,” he argues. “Matric knew me easily because my family probably turned me in. They’re thieves like me, they will do anything for a coin.”
“What does their decision have to do with you?” I ask. My thumb touches the edge of his lips and he turns his head, taking it in his mouth and lighting the gooey mess of my stomach on fire.
He changes direction. “I don’t like you with Titus.”
“What?” I’m getting whiplash.
“When we overheard you telling Booker and Luca about kissing Titus, I reined it in. But, with you here, under me, I can’t help it. It pisses me off.” Does Holden have a split personality disorder? He is acting extremely out of character. When I look into his dark brown eyes there is no teasing light. He’s completely serious.
“I liked it when we had the secret,” he says. “I know I shouldn’t, but it felt like it was something you and I had. Even though I knew you should tell them.”
<
br /> “The thing with Titus surprised you,” I guess. He doesn’t have to nod to tell me, I know it’s true. “Holden, it was a surprise to me too. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident. We haven’t talked about it since.”
“He wants you like I want you,” Holden confesses.
I pull my hand away from his lips and I want to hold onto his side but I’m afraid of what touching his skin might do to my insides right now so I just let it lay limply on the bed. “I—”
“Gods, how can you not know?” He pulls back further and really looks at me, tracing my face with his eyes. “You’re so innocent sometimes, but then at others...with those bounty hunters....” I decide to ignore his first comment because he’s wrong. I do know. At least, now I do. But I don’t know how to deal with it.
“It wasn’t good,” I remind him. “It means I’m dangerous. I don’t know how to control myself yet.”
“A part of me doesn’t want you to.”
“What do you mean?” He can’t possibly think it’s safe to just let me catch fire whenever I want.
“It was magnificent. You couldn’t see how I saw you. Your hair was shining; your face was a concentrated mask. You were so angry, protective. I liked it.” I never would have guessed that he was like this. It’s darker than I ever pictured him. “I liked it because you cared.”
“I do care,” I assure him. “I am protective. But, whatever happened with the bounty hunters could happen to you or one of the other guys. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” I mean to say “you guys” but the last word doesn’t come out. His eyes narrow with intent and he leans closer.
“No one cares.” He’s in my face. “No one but you.”
I want to argue. I know I’m not the only one. Obviously, Booker and Luca care. Booker and Holden have known each other much longer. There is a friendship there, an easiness. He doesn’t seem to remember that. Breath fans over my face, warm and sweet smelling like rich brandy… and I realize.
“You’ve been drinking,” I say. He nuzzles into my neck. Lightning strikes my heart, heating up my veins. Sparking me alive.
“Just a little,” he answers. “What they had in the kitchen. It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing. It explains his actions, the way he’s cuddling me. His heat so hot that I feel like I’m the one being burned alive. Lips trail up my jawline before moving to my ear.
“You don’t know how incredible you are, princess.” He kisses my cheek, pulling back. Holden leans forward again and rests his lips against mine, pushing in with his tongue until I can taste the sweet alcohol on his breath. It’s something cinnamon and apple flavored. I don’t have it in me to push away, to stop him. A storm crashes into me and sweeps me away into his arms as they tighten.
Light spills into the room as the door flies open and I hear a ragged breath drawn. It’s not mine and it’s not Holden’s because ours are still pressed tightly together. Stomps ricochet across the floor muffled by the carpet and Holden flies backwards out of my grip, slamming against the wall under the massive weight that is Coen.
“Booker told you to keep your hands to yourself,” Coen growls. I blink, rising on the platform bed. Luca stands in the doorway, quietly taking in the scene.
“You want her, too,” Holden says. He sags under Coen’s weight and suddenly Coen and the wall at his back are the only things keeping him on his feet.
“You don’t get to–”
“He’s drunk,” Luca announces. My eyes and Coen’s fly to Luca. Holden drops his head to his chest as if he can no longer hold it up. “Smell him.”
Coen’s gaze flips back to Holden and he leans in, sniffing. For the first time in my life, I feel completely speechless. I don’t know what to say to the guys in the room. My cheeks are warm and my throat is dry. If anyone mentions the fact that I was kissing Holden back, I just might cry. I am not a crier. I don’t cry. I feel a weight of guilt on my chest because I liked it. I liked Holden like this and he wasn’t even himself.
I get out of the bed slowly as Luca and Coen discuss what to do with Holden and who will take over watching me for the night. Holden doesn’t utter a peep. My feet travel across the dull beige carpeting of the room towards the open front door. There are no shouts behind me or following footsteps and I know neither Luca nor Coen have noticed my departure. A part of me wants to run as fast as I can down the hallway and stairs, but with my eyes stinging so bad it hazes my vision, I walk slowly and calmly.
Richard’s surprised face greets me as I walk past the greeter’s podium. The gorgeous tiled floor under my bare feet quickly turn to stones and grass as I enter the Courtyard gardens. I collapse into the alcove that Luca and I had shared before, sitting down and pulling my feet up, knees to my chest. An ache forms in my temples. I wish with all my might to talk to Obidian. His calming manner, his quiet strength. I wonder if his personality is any different when he’s unbound. Is he more talkative, more like an educator, a teacher?
Something tells me the only difference is the lack of pain. When he’s unbound, Obidian is probably just the same. Quiet, but talking when necessary. Maybe he will talk more when it doesn’t hurt him. He’s more than a mentor, he’s a parental figure in my mind. Loving me, caring for me, hiding the pain that I could be feeling–that I feel echoes of it now–from me so that I wouldn’t know his suffering.
I’m not sure how long I sit in the garden when I hear soft footfalls on the grass outside of my hiding spot. There’s a tingle of awareness, but it’s not bad so I know not to fear whoever is out there. That knowledge allows me the comfort of keeping my head down and my face turned away as they step into my space and sit next to me.
“Coen’s upset.” Titus’s baritone slides along my frantic nerves soothing them. Now I definitely don’t want to raise my head. “You should have told them where you were going.”
“Do they know I’m here?” My voice is muffled by my arms, but somehow he understands.
“Yeah, they know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
I don’t know, I just don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry for kissing Titus. I’m sorry for kissing Holden. I’m sorry for being a daimon. I’m sorry for bringing them all into my mess and putting them in danger. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”
“Like what?” Titus presses. I don’t answer. He sighs and palms the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair to pull me up to face him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, blue eyes flashing. “There’s a lot that happens that no one asks for. Do you remember what you said to me under that tavern in Ragnarok?” I look at him, confused.
“You said that you were my family,” Titus reminds me. “That we are all family. That means you’re loved no matter what. Our love is unconditional.”
“I messed with our family, though. I broke it.”
“You’re not a child, Nerys,” he chides me. “You didn’t just pick up our shiny new relationship and decide you didn’t like it so you shattered it on the floor.” He sighs, massaging the back of my head. I try to resist how good it feels, an impossible feat.
“Our relationship?” I ask. Does he mean his and mine? Do we even have one?
“The six of us,” he clarifies. “You, me, Booker, Luca, Coen, and Holden. We’re a family, right? We are. Just because you’re confused doesn’t mean we’re any less family or that we love you any less.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” It would kill me if I broke Coen or Holden or anyone else. I can handle fighting or being attacked physically. The idea of emotionally devastating someone, though? It’s horrifying.
“You can’t help how people feel,” Titus says. “You can’t help that I’m already half in love with you, or that Holden wants you the way he does. You can’t even help Coen’s feelings for you.
Why do you think he was so upset that you kissed me? Or that he’s angry with Holden?” Titus shakes his head and
draws me closer, pressing my face to his chest when my legs drop to the ground. “Coen didn’t realize how much he considered you his until we all started showing up.”
“He hasn’t been any different,” I protest.
“Are you sure?” His long fingers trail through my dark hair absently like he needs to touch something as he considers his next words. “Think about it. When he first met Holden and me, after escaping Matric’s city, he was definitely protective. When he got used to us, it was better, but didn’t you ever see the way he would watch us if we were closer to you? He wasn’t exactly excited over the prospect of sending you off alone with me when we left Ragnarok. He staked his claim on you when Booker informed us that Holden would be watching you tonight. He’s got it bad for you, honey.”
“I didn’t know.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Titus hears and continues to stroke me.
“We’re family, honey. It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure this out.” I sigh, resting fully on top of him, exhaustion pulling me in like a warm blanket. The last words out of my mouth leave him chuckling.
“Booker’s not going to like this.”
Chapter 13: Training
We’ve found nothing in the last three days and I am ready to release some pent-up frustration.
Booker, being the diplomat that he is, has assigned me two guards that rotate out to assure that no one oversteps their bounds.
It will continue, at least until Obidian is unbound, and then I would be, too.
I toss another borrowed library book on the floor of our “study” area that we’ve commandeered in front of the one of the library’s many fireplaces. I don’t even have the energy to care that it’s likely hundreds of years old and fragile. If a librarian walks by, the poor creature might just combust over my ill treatment of the forgotten volumes we’ve been hunting through for the last 72 hours.
