That night, he didn’t let me out of his arms. Not once.
Every time I shifted, his grip tightened. Every time I breathed too shallow, his lips brushed my temple like he was checking that I was still there.
It wasn’t just possession anymore. It was obsession carved into every muscle of his body.
I lay stiff at first, staring at the ceiling while his chest rose and fell against my back. His arm was a solid band across my stomach, his palm splayed over my belly like he could shield what was inside with the weight of his hand alone.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured against my hair, his voice low, too raw.
“I’m not,” I lied, though my heart was hammering hard enough that he had to feel it.
His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “I hear your pulse. Don’t hide it from me.”
I swallowed hard, tears burning behind my eyes again. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” His hand pressed firmer against me, his body caging mine even more. “But I’m not. I don’t get scared, Sorcha. Not of demons, not of men. But this…” His voice broke, almost imperceptibly, like a crack in stone. “Losing you. Losing him. That terrifies me. So, I’ll keep you here, where nothing can touch you. Not even your fear.”
The weight of him was almost suffocating, but at the same time, it was the only thing keeping me tethered. His warmth, his strength, his vow wrapped around me like chains I couldn’t decide if I hated or craved.
I wanted to protest. To tell him he couldn’t protect me from everything, that this baby wasn’t just his to claim, but mine to carry, to endure. But the words never came.
Because even through my panic, even though the storm of doubt, I felt it, I felt the bond. The way it hummed low under my skin, pulling me toward him, binding me tighter every time he touched me, every time he whispered that vow like it was carved in blood.
“Sleep,” he whispered, lips pressing against my temple again. “I’ll keep watch.”
I almost laughed. “You’ll be dead to the world when the sun rises.”
“I’ll still be here,” he growled softly. “And they’ll guard you. But tonight, you’re mine. Every breath. Every dream is mine.”
His words sank into me as the exhaustion finally pulled me under. The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was the press of his hand over my stomach, his heartbeat thrumming like a war drum against my back.
And for all my fear, for all the panic curling tight in my chest, I couldn’t stop the thought that echoed through me as I drifted off. If anyone could keep me safe, if anyone could keep us safe… it was him.
Chapter 18
Dusk bled into the edges of the curtains when I woke, my body thrumming with the pulse of the bond. Sorcha.
My first thought wasn’t of war or demons or the weight of my family’s empire, it was of her. The fragile, trembling warmth that had pressed into me during my sleep, the heartbeat under my palm, steady but new. Our child.
The second thought was fury.
I rolled from the bed in one fluid motion, pulling on black trousers, a shirt, my mind already running a hundred moves ahead. The world was filled with threats, and she was carrying the most important thing I’d ever put into existence. My son or my daughter, my legacy.
I barked for Ivan the moment I left the room, Jericho and Troy already stationed by her door as if they knew I’d be looking for them.
“Double rotations,” I ordered, my voice cold steel. “No one leaves her alone. Ever. I want eyes on her at all times. Ivan, daylight coverage is on you. Jericho, Troy, nights. And I want five more men pulled from the eastern docks and put on perimeter. Anyone gets within a hundred feet of these walls without my approval you shoot first, ask later.”
They nodded, sharp and silent, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. I could put an army around her and still my chest would burn with the thought of one claw, one bullet, one hand brushing too close.
The walls of the house weren’t enough to contain the rage knotting inside me. Every shadow whispered of threats, every echo carried her name. I couldn’t breathe in the confines of my own home, not when my head was filling with plans, contingencies, and the knowledge that none of it would ever feel like enough.
I needed counsel, and there was only one man I trusted to give it without dressing it in softness.
Roman.
I strode out the front doors, the night air biting against my skin. Before I could even issue the command, two Escalades roared to life. Guards shifted instantly, trained shadows slipping into formation. Darius was at my shoulder, Samson already climbing behind the wheel of one of the vehicles, Rory falling in with that changeling stillness that made him look like he could dissolve into the dark at any moment.
They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t need to. When I moved, they followed. That was the way of it.
