by Lola Gabriel
Holy crap, she had to stop. This was how they lured you in, the arseholes, with looks that seemed real and good and just for you. He probably practiced in the mirror on a regular basis! He’d had hundreds of years to get good at it, after all. Maybe she was just a stupid baby—UGH, her brain! She was pretty drunk, why hadn’t she just fallen into a tipsy slumber yet? Now Claudia felt like she couldn’t get comfortable. She was the princess, and there was a pea. Or maybe the pea was Cayden. She was definitely not sober with thoughts like that. She shouldn’t have taken the nap when she got in earlier, but she’d taken a train, like a human, to avoid whoever the hell was after her father following her. It seemed to have worked, but god, was it slow. And uncomfortable. And crowded. Watching the landscape change from craggy hills to rolling had been interesting for maybe an hour and a half, but then she’d gotten bored and honestly the scenery had gotten boring.
One of the reasons Claudia had been so ardently refusing the matchmaking balls she should, technically, be going to now and for a decade-ish, was that she didn’t want to be traveling all over the place. And she didn’t want to meet someone noble she had a connection with! Her mate couldn’t possibly be an alpha, because she was going to be an alpha, and she wasn’t about to give that up for some man who thought his kingdom was more important. No way. She would just happen upon her mate in her day to day (a day to day thankfully quite free of noble immortals, bar her own family) or else she would be alone. Rule alone. Sounded easier, really, no bickering, no compromising…
Claudia was boring herself. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, and then they were drooping, and then closing. She was warm and comfortable, drifting off into dreamland with her breath deepening and her body relaxing and—
Cayden’s eyes when he grinned at her. They were wicked, but they were soft. He had one dimple. He leaned one elbow on the table when he was bored of the conversation he was in. At dessert, he had eaten all the cream and custard off his trifle and left the cake and fruit.
Claudia’s eyes snapped open. She had known this man for one day! And he was infuriating! And clearly a total monster when it came to women!
Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just under his stupid tricky spell. She didn’t want to admit it, because she was strong and smart and capable, but she was young. A couple of boyfriends. A few more forays into casual sex. But maybe she was simply no match for a studied bad boy with charm?
Maybe, Claudia thought, she should just get up right now. She should swing her legs out of bed, step down onto the thick, tickly, strangely 70s rug in her bare feet and stand. She wouldn’t need to bother putting anything else on, and would pad quietly out onto the landing in her panties and t-shirt. She would go up the stairs slowly, her heart starting to beat kind of hard, and then maybe she would listen at his door. Maybe she would call his name, or maybe she would just push it open and it would creak a little, and he would turn over in bed, open his eyes, smile so that single dimple showed and say, “Hi,” or maybe, “I’ve been waiting for you,” or, “I hoped you’d come…”
These scenarios blurred. Played to her like she was flicking through a social media stream. She was falling asleep, and she was thinking of him, and it was so good. She felt a warm glow, and lower, wetness, and she was very calm, and—
Claudia opened her eyes with a short, sharp gasp. There had been a muted crash—a latch breaking or a door panel being pushed in. Trying not to make any noise, trying not to even breathe, Claudia pushed herself up, strained to hear more, moving toward the bedroom door with her whole self as though that would help her hear what was happening on the ground floor.
For a few moments, nothing, and then a heavy footstep, and another… it didn’t sound like Mrs. Cruikshanks. Then there were the muffled voices. Claudia’s heart was in her mouth. She understood that phrase more than she ever had as she found herself on her knees on the bed. She was still trying to hear, still thinking in some small corner of her brain that this was ridiculous, that she was on edge from travel and from the situation at home and from her inappropriate dirty dream.
Then a door opened below her, she heard the squeak of its hinges, and a lighter footfall than before, and then a little scream.
Claudia was at the door to her room in a moment, her slightly sweaty feet sticking to the wood flooring. She was moving on tiptoes, trying to be silent, worried her ragged breathing alone would give her away, let alone her clumsy footfalls in this stupid house she didn’t know well. She stubbed her toe, and almost fell forward. She had to balance on one leg in order to grab the toe, hold it tight. She swore as quietly as she possibly could, and then waited for the pain to subside before hobbling on.
Cayden’s door creaked as she pushed it open. His room was dark, and she whisper-shouted his name. She didn’t even know where the bed was to shake him. She just stood at the door. She could feel herself shaking. She could still hear her breath, shaky now too.
After the third whisper-shout, a lamp clicked on. “Claudia?” Cayden said, like it was a question. And then, “Are you real?”
Claudia nodded. She didn’t want to speak, to give away that they were awake. She continued her tiptoe walk to Cayden’s bed, and then, to her absolute surprise, found herself climbing onto it, and close to Cayden.
It was just a hug, but Cayden held her tightly in his taut, warm arms. He waited a few seconds before he said, “What’s…”
He didn’t have to finish. In fact, he was talking too loudly. Claudia gently put a hand over his mouth.
“There is someone here,” she said, as clearly and quietly as she could manage at this high-pressure and, frankly, highly confusing moment. “There’s someone downstairs. A man, I think… And he has Mrs. Cruikshanks.”
She felt Cayden’s body tighten in shock. He sat up, ready to spring out of bed.
“No,” she said, staying quiet, “I don’t know how they got in here, but if it’s the same men as at home, they’ve killed. And, they have magical help.”
She waited a moment, the sort of time she thought this might take to sink in, and then she asked, “Can I let go of your face now?”
Cayden nodded. She let go.
“Fucking Ali!” he whispered, but angrily. “Didn’t tell me about murder and magic!”
“Well,” Claudia asked, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly, “do you two boys have that kind of a relationship?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cayden asked moodily.
“I mean,” Claudia sat back on her haunches. Her eyes were getting used to the dark, and she could see Cayden now, sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to his chest. “Do you guys share? Or is it more… gruff?”
Cayden shifted a little. “I see,” he said, “well, in person we share some. Like, when we’ve been drinking, but over text or letter, it’s…”
“God, Cayden, this isn’t therapy! We have to hide. Or escape. But we’re so high up…” Claudia looked around the room wildly, as if she might see a flashing exit sign or a small plane parked up in a corner.
Cayden had slid out of bed while she was gazing around, though. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing at himself. He was naked except for a tight pair of boxers. In the extremely dim light, Claudia couldn’t give him a proper appraisal. Which was probably a good thing, she reminded herself, being that he her dad’s best friend.
Claudia jumped when she felt her hand being grabbed, but it was just Cayden. He pulled her off the bed and to her feet. “What are you looking so gormless for now, after you came and woke me up, like Harriet the Spy or some shit?”
Claudia shook herself. “Weirdly preteen reference,” she said, and Cayden shrugged.
“I’ve been alive a long time. I pay attention to all kinds of culture.”
There was a creak from outside the door. Feet on the stairs below them?
Cayden swore under his breath and looked from one side of the room to the other. He seemed confused for a moment, frozen making a decision, and then he darted left, pulling Clau
dia with him. She had to remind herself not to shriek.
Cayden yanked open a cupboard door, and then they were in among his shirts and a jangle of coat hangers.
She was breathing heavily from fear and being dragged halfway across a room. “They’ll find us in here,” she managed under her breath. Cayden was pulling at things above them. At the coat hangers, and swearing again and again.
“What are you—”
This was all Claudia managed before she was tumbling through darkness. She was so shocked she didn’t make a sound, and in half a second, she landed on something soft.
“Ouch!”
It was Cayden.
“Gosh, I thought I’d got the wrong cupboard!” he said. She could feel his voice rumbling through his chest, directly under hers.
“What?”
“I’m an Alpha!” Cayden said. “I have hiding spots. It’s an old house! Humans used to hunt us. Surely your big old castle has the same thing? Isn’t Scotland full of… I don’t know… highland chiefs that come marauding? And keep your voice down, we’re in the chimney breast, I think. I mean, it’s sound-proofed, but it isn’t perfect.” Underneath Claudia, Cayden wriggled sideways and felt along the wall with one hand. Click! And then a hum. An ancient, naked electric bulb mounted on the wall snapped on and lit up the tight, tall space they had tumbled into. The floor was cushioned leather, the walls whitewashed. Claudia was literally lying on top of Cayden, face to face, chest to chest, belly to belly…
“That was offensive,” Claudia said, her face turned away from him, inspecting the walls apparently. “The thing about highland chiefs… very ‘see-you-Jimmy’ hats and Loch Ness monsters. Maybe if you visited your best friend and his family from time to time, you would know that actually—” She turned from looking around and said, “Oh!” But Cayden was smiling. He must already have been aware of how very intimately they’d landed. Her hair was spilling onto his face, and her breath must have been too. She was suddenly very glad she’d brushed her teeth so recently.
“Awkward,” he said. But still, the grin.
There was barely room, but Claudia rolled sideways and sat up, feet folded under her. She gathered her hair and pulled it into a messy bun to stop it being so in the way. Cayden pushed up onto his elbows and seemed to be thinking about staying there, looking up at her as if he were out sunbathing, getting a golden sheen on the abs that were starkly noticeable on his svelte frame. But then, awkwardly, he clambered to a sitting position.
“Are you sure they got Nann—Mrs. Cruikshanks?”
This shouldn’t be a time of laughter, but Claudia couldn’t help it—she let out a very unattractive snort. “Do you call Mrs. Cruikshanks Nanny? Aren’t you, like, hundreds of years old?”
Cayden waved a hand as if to indicate that it didn’t matter, but Claudia raised her eyebrows at him.
“Yes!” he said in a kind of irritated voice. “Yes, I do, but it’s mostly a joke. Affectionate. You know.”
“Wow,” Claudia said, “if you say so.”
She had expected some gentle sparring back, but Cayden looked genuinely worried. “Did it sound like they hurt her?” he asked. “How violent have they been before?”
He was, Claudia realized, scared. Scared for Mrs. Cruikshanks’ safety.
“They’ve only hurt people who fought back. Our gatekeeper injured one of them, and there was blood at the scene, but he was killed by a curse. And then there were a few tortured for information. She won’t fight, will she?”
Cayden let out something that might have been a scoff, or might have been a sob. “No,” he said, “she’ll give them a dressing down, and have them feeling like their mothers are in the room and asking them to wash their mouths out with soap, but she won’t fight. Information, though… she can play the dumb old servant, but I don’t know for how long.”
To her surprise, Claudia found herself putting a hand out and laying it on Cayden’s shoulder. Squeezing. He was warm and soft, his shoulder enjoyably muscular beneath her palm.
“She’s strong, Cayden, she’ll be okay. We’ll find them, but let’s wait it out here for a while. You don’t have travel Scrabble hidden down here, do you?” Cayden smiled at her weakly, that one dimple making itself known. Looking at him closely, he had some unexpected freckles across the bridge of his nose, and a scar on his forehead.
“How did you do this?” she asked, her free hand moving to the scar so both were touching him now.
“Fight with Ali,” he said, “over a bet we’d made about… I can’t even remember what it was about. I just remember the blood getting in my eye, and that afterwards I didn’t get it treated with magic and I didn’t shift until it was scabbed over because I wanted it to remind me not to be such a petty dickhead with people I love.”
He smiled again, equally as weak as last time. “I know,” he said, “I’m sure it has not done its job, and I’ve not been a good friend to your dad, and now I’ve got Mrs. Cruikshanks in danger.”
He looked almost forlorn, sitting in the orange glow of the single bulb, his curls and his cheekbones both casting deep shadows across his lovely face.
She hadn’t planned it. In fact, she started moving and didn’t know why, and as soon as she worked out what she was doing, Claudia’s lips were on Cayden’s.
Almost as soon as the kiss had begun, Cayden’s surprised mouth yielding to hers (also surprised, and surprisingly eager), Claudia pulled back. Their faces were still close when she said, “Oh, wow, I shouldn’t have—” And then their faces were together again as Cayden, this time, closed the gap, and his hand got lost in her hair, probably making her messy bun even messier.
He kissed her like he needed her, and whether that meant he really wanted her or just wanted comfort in a hard time, she didn’t know. Not that she could think at all, really, as his just-a-touch of stubble rubbed against her chin and he nibbled her bottom lip.
It was almost tough to take it slow enough, with them both starting out in states of undress. She moved a hand as if to find her way up his top, but hit only warm, smooth, exposed skin. Cayden gasped at her touch.
“Cold hands,” he explained, quiet in her ear as he pushed a tendril of hair back and moved his mouth to her neck. She kept her cold hands on him, stroking lightly, and then teasing the waistband of his boxers. They were blue. He pulled her, hands at her waist now, onto his lap, and then he kissed her again. For a moment after that kiss, they looked at one another. Looked right into one another’s eyes. Her heart felt like the heart of a hummingbird. And she was, she was humming, her skin was humming with a kind of electrical charge.
His chocolate brown eyes were surrounded by those lovely lashes, and they looked into her eyes with surprising softness. The beginnings of laugh lines at their edges… “Look,” Cayden said, his breath sweet with toothpaste and sleep, “this is… we’re in an intense spot right now, and we had a fair amount to drink earlier. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Claudia almost laughed. But his eyes were still so sincere. She laid a hand against his face. “Do you not want me?” she asked. And his eyes widened.
“Of course I do, I really—”
Claudia let herself smile, and she rocked forward so that the thin, damp cloth of her panties pushed against him. He clearly wanted her. “I know,” she said, “not hard to tell… and
aren’t you supposed to be an asshole? Is this part of the act?” Again, she was taken aback by the sincerity of his big brown eyes.
“Claudia,” he said, kind of choking out her name, “I care about you. I mean, this is clearly nuts, but you’re important to me. Like, on a variety of levels. Oh, man, this is insane, isn’t it?”
Claudia hadn’t expected Cayden to be the one getting freaked out about the situation. He was supposed to be a heartless asshole, shouldn’t have an issue with sleeping with his best pal’s daughter. Admittedly, she didn’t want to think about that. So, instead, she leaned forward and kissed him again, pulling him to her with a hand at the nape of
his neck.
The kiss was a deep, slow one. Their bodies were pressed together now, and, still kissing Cayden, Claudia reached down and lifted her t-shirt. She had to break away from him to pull it over her head, but before she did that, she stopped for a moment. “I don’t think we should think about it too much right now, but yes, I want this. Okay?”
By the time she had taken the old t-shirt off and thrown it into the corner—which was, of course, not far away—and looked back to Cayden, he was gazing at her breasts. So that was the wobble sorted.
Cayden brushed her nipple with a thumb as he kissed her, and it felt so good, the electricity from before intensifying and spreading. Quite suddenly, Cayden flipped them over so that her back was on the soft leather cushions and he was kneeling over her hips. Her knees were bent, feet planted on the floor, in order to fit in the tight space. Her back was sticking to the leather below her, sweaty from sleep and then excitement. Cayden was pushing against his boxers. He was breathing a little heavily, his flat stomach shining with a little sweat too. Claudia leaned forward and lifted herself, put a hand around to Cayden’s back, feeling the rope-like muscles of his trunk, and she kissed his stomach, licked down to the band of his underwear, and teased its edge with her free thumb. Above her, Cayden groaned.
She thought she heard him say, “I want you so much,” but she couldn’t be sure over the sound of their breathing. It had been quiet. She was moving intentionally slowly, inching his boxers down, nibbling one hip bone and then the other as she went, and then stroking his hair, feeling him buck and harden under her investigative mouth and fingers.
Cayden’s hand was tangled in her hair, but he seemed to have forgotten about it. She didn’t mind. She was having fun, making this apparent bad boy, this hard-headed alpha, squirm. He groaned again, and she pulled his underwear down. Warmth, sweat… she took him in her mouth, still teasing, still playing with him, and above her he swore quietly, said her name. And then Cayden was taking charge. He pushed her down again, and she laughed as her back landed back on the leather, and Cayden almost rolled off, but the space was too small. He kissed her, tugged at her hair, and she kissed harder so he would know to carry on.
