Then Layla shifted in her seat, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I should take Aleksander and change him,” she said softly, rising with the baby in her arms.
I moved automatically to stand with her, my plate forgotten, but the moment I pushed up from the bench the room tilted. The floor seemed to slide out from under me, and my vision blurred at the edges.
A soft gasp left me as my knees threatened to buckle. My hand shot out for balance, but it wasn’t the table I caught.
It was Lucien.
The sound of his chair crashing backward against the stone floor cut through the hall like a blade. In less than a heartbeat, he was there, his arm locking around my waist, holding me upright as though I weighed nothing at all.
“Sorcha,” he barked, sharper than he intended, the word torn from his throat like it had claws. His presence was overwhelming, fierce, his chest pressed to mine, his eyes wild as they scanned me like I might disappear.
The baby stirred against Layla’s shoulder at the sudden tension, but she only held him tighter, her eyes flicking with concern. Roman was instantly at her side, protective as always, but even he couldn’t ignore the storm rising out of Lucien.
“I’m fine,” I managed, my voice unsteady as I tried to straighten, though the room still wavered. “Just…stood too quickly.”
Lucien’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, anchoring me against him, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone.His gaze raked over me, sharp and furious, like the very idea of weakness in me was an insult to him, a threat he couldn’t strike down.
I touched his forearm, feeling the tension like steel beneath my fingers. “Really,” I whispered, trying to soothe him. “I’m okay.”
But he wasn’t soothed. His eyes never left me, unblinking, like if he dared look away even for a second, something would rip me from his arms.
Around us, the feast quieted. Viking’s grin faded, Volken’s eyes sharpened, Draugr’s massive frame shifting slightly forward in his seat as if preparing for violence that wasn’t there. Layla took the baby upstairs after ensuring that I was fine.
Lucien’s breathing was too rough, his heart beating like a war drum against my spine. He lowered his head just enough that his lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice a gravel-edged vow. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
Heat rose in my chest, not anger, but something heavier, more complicated. Shame at making him react that way. Fear that maybe I wasn’t as strong as I wanted to believe. And under it all, a pulse of something dark and undeniable because part of me liked the way he clung to me, like I was the only thing in the world that could undo him.
The feast carried on, quieter now, more cautious, but Lucien never let me go. His arm stayed locked around me, his body curled protectively against mine as if daring anyone to see my weakness as an opportunity.
And deep down, I knew this wasn’t over for him as he continued to look at me as if I would disappear.
After dinner, everyone moved into the hall, though Lucien never once loosened his hold on me. His arm stayed snug around my waist, guiding me through every farewell as though I couldn’t be trusted to stand on my own.
At the doors, Viking leaned against the frame with that sharp grin of his, his tone lazy but his eyes calculating. “The Board dinner is in two nights. Who’s going? I’ve got Volken and myself tied up overseas with the ammunitions deal.”
Volken gave the barest nod of confirmation. “Spain.”
Draugr rumbled low, his lip curling. “Don’t look at me. Put me in a room of smug suits and I’ll cut one’s throat before dessert.”
“Exactly why you’re not invited,” Viking said with a flash of teeth. His gaze slid toward Roman and Lucien. “Leaves you two.”
Roman’s hand rested firm on Layla’s shoulder, his son tucked safe in her arms. His jaw was set, but his eyes softened only for them. “Not me, not now. Aleksander’s too young for us to leave him with anyone. Layla and I aren’t separating.”
Viking arched a brow. “Then it’s Lucien.”
Lucien didn’t argue or hesitate. His hand squeezed my hip instead, possessive as his dark gaze dropped to me. “Fine,” he said, his tone final. Then, low enough that only I heard, he added, “And you’re coming with me.”
Heat rippled through me at the quiet command, my chest tightened because a part of me wanted to argue, and another part of me wanted to melt.
“Two nights,” he continued, brushing his lips against my temple before pulling me closer against his side. “You’ll stand at my side, will be a good time to introduce you to everyone.”
We said our goodbyes, Roman’s nod was simple but weighty, Layla offering a smile that warmed me despite the tension that still lingered from earlier.
The SUV waited outside, dark and sleek. Lucien didn’t even bother with propriety as he pulled me straight into his lap once we were inside, his arms banded tight around me like I might vanish if he let go.
“You’ll have dresses sent in tomorrow,” he murmured against my hair, his lips brushing my crown.
But I turned in his lap, meeting his sharp, unyielding gaze. “Or… we could go shopping.”
