“They won’t touch you again,” I said, my voice low, steady. “Not while I’m breathing.” And I meant every single word.
Lucky.
The word still echoed, sharp and metallic, even after the doctor left. I stayed where I was for a long moment, my gaze locked on her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, the oversized shirt I’d had brought for her swallowing her frame, her wrists bandaged. Her hair hung in tangled waves, and there was a stubborn tilt to her chin even in her exhaustion.
No one would ever touch her again. Not while I was breathing. Not while my heart still beat, or whatever passed for a heartbeat in me.
The Irish had taken her once. They’d caged her, chained her, stripped her down to bones and bruises. But they hadn’t brokenher. I could see it…the fight still there, buried under fatigue, but alive. And that made her dangerous in the best way.
That made her mine. I didn’t say the words out loud; I didn’t need to. The second I’d seen her chained in that warehouse, every part of me had already claimed her. I’d protect her with the same ferocity I protected my brothers, my territory, my blood. And if anyone tried to take her from me again, I’d fucking destroy this world and the next just to find her.
I moved closer, slow enough not to startle her, until I was standing directly in front of her.
She looked at me then, really looked, and I realized she didn’t just see a man. She saw the predator under the skin, and she wasn’t scared.
That alone was enough to uncoil something deep inside me. My hand rose, deliberate and unhurried, my palm curving against the side of her face. Her skin was warm, fragile under my touch, and yet I could feel the steel in her. Her gaze locked on mine, and for a moment it was a hypnotic dance, each of us daring the other to look away.
I didn’t.
I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both a claim and a promise. Soft for a heartbeat… then deeper, hungrier, until the taste of her was all I could think about. And then, without breaking the connection, my mouth slid to the curve of her neck.
I could hear her pulse there, rapid but steady, a drumbeat calling to me. My fangs slid down, a whisper of instinct and inevitability, and I sank them into her skin.
Her breath caught, her fingers clutching my shirt, and I felt the exact moment our bond began to root itself. Power moved between us, mine anchoring into her, hers winding into me like a thread I would never untangle.
By the time I withdrew, her lashes fluttered. Exhaustion claimed her before she could speak, her body going limp against me. I caught her easily, cradling her to my chest. She belonged to me now.
Holding her with one arm, I drew my own wrist to my mouth, biting deep. My blood welled dark and rich, and I pressed it to her lips. She swallowed without waking, the bond sealing in a way that no power…mortal or immortal…could ever undo.
Nothing in this world, or the next, would break it. When her breathing evened out, I pulled her closer still, knowing that from this night forward, she wasn’t just under my protection. She was part of me. And I would kill kings if I had to, to keep her safe.
She was still, completely surrendered to sleep, but even then, my instincts were wound tight. I could feel the bond between us humming, it was new, raw, and demanding I keep her close.
The guest suite I chose wasn’t just the largest; it was the most secure. No windows without reinforced glass, only one entrance, and that entrance would be guarded. Always.
The contrast of her pale skin against the dark silk sheets striking in a way I’d remember forever. I pulled the blankets over her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face before straightening.
She’d wake eventually, but I didn’t want that to happen without me there to explain, to tell her what she’d become part of, what it meant to belong to me now. The last thing I needed was for herto open her eyes in the daylight hours and find me dead to the world without an answer.
I stepped into the hall, where four of my men were already waiting. Not my soldiers. Changelings, creatures whose bloodlines twisted between human and Vampire, able to move through the day while I slept. They could be trusted. They’d been with the family for decades.
“She doesn’t leave that bed,” I ordered, my voice low, final. “Not for anything except the bathroom. If she tries, you stop her. She needs rest and food.” I glanced at one of them. “Make sure she eats the moment she wakes. Not scraps but real meals.”
They nodded, each one understanding exactly what was being asked. And what would happen to them if they failed.
One of them asked, “Anything else, sir?”
“Yes,” I said, my gaze going back to the closed door. “No one gets in without my permission. Not staff. Not family. Not anyone. If they’re not cleared by me personally, they don’t get within ten feet of that room.”
Four voices answered in unison, “Understood.”
Only then did I walk away, my mind still turning, already planning the conversation I’d have with her when the sun fell, and I rose again. By then, she’d know exactly what I was, what she meant to me, and that from this point forward, she wasn’t going anywhere but at my side, and heaven help anyone who thought to challenge that.
Chapter 4
Sleep dragged me under again and again, thick and heavy like I’d been drugged, though I knew it wasn’t. My body just… gave up. The mattress was softer than anything I’d felt in months, maybe years, and for the first time since I’d been taken, I wasn’t shivering in some cold, stinking cell.
Once, in the haze of the day, I heard the door open. There were light steps and then a soft clink of porcelain on wood. Someone whispered something in a language I didn’t know. The smell of food and fresh bread, roasted meat and something warm and rich lingered in the air. My stomach clenched, but my eyelids wouldn’t open. Exhaustion was a chain I couldn’t break.
