I inhaled as my magic vibrated with frustration. It was so fucking tempting to show him exactly what scary looked like.
The class period seemed to stretch on and on, until we had fifteen minutes left. Draven, having looked at the clock consistently in the past half hour, let class out early. It was clear as day that he was having anxiety over her state and couldn’t handle not knowing anymore. I didn’t blame him in the least.
My princess’s eyes were shut, and color was slowly returning to her face as the seconds ticked by. I was a bit worried to ask for details because I didn’t want to make her sick again. The concept of doing that made me really uncomfortable. It was an instinctual thing, I think, because my magic was seemingly hesitant, and he was usually demanding as fuck.
On the other hand, I also had a burning urge to know how fucked up that man was. Mostly because I knew I could turn it into what he feared the most.
Lorcan let out a soft sound of pain but shifted slightly, her skirt riding up on her thigh. I nearly groaned at that as my cock twitched impatiently, making me scowl at myself. So not the time. I found that I was having to tell myself that a lot lately, because I was perpetually turned on by Lorcan. All. The. Time.
“Lamb?” Draven asked, crouching down as a shiver worked its way over her skin. Desmond had stood and stepped away slightly, on the phone and no doubt gathering info on the bastard in question. Possibly informing his guard, something I needed to do myself.
At that, a thought occurred to me, and while I didn’t love it, I believed it necessary: Lorcan needed to meet the men in our guard units. At least the commanders, because if there were ever times when she was in trouble and they were on watch, she needed to know she could trust them.
Fuck. I didn’t want any other men around her. I was liable to kill my own men if they looked at her too much.
“Princess,” I started, finally finding the nerve to ask the question I hated, “what the hell did he want?”
Her eyes squeezed shut as she inhaled sharply. “He’s just a violent motherfucker, but it’s hitting a bit too close to home and reminding me of Toris.”
“Who?” Draven asked. I knew that he wasn’t referring to Toris.
“The principal,” I explained as his jaw ticked and he muttered something in a language I didn’t even recognize. Old bastard.
“Lorcan, do you want to go home?” Desmond offered quietly.
“No,” she asserted as she picked her head up. “I just need some fresh air and maybe something to eat.”
Draven helped her up and kept his arm around her, school policy be damned, as I hung back to walk with Desmond.
“What are we going to do about this guy?”
Because if we weren’t going to kill him, then I needed to beat the shit out of him or something. Maybe I would just create a nightmare to convince him to never leave his house. Or, you know, I could fucking kill him.
“We could kill him,” Desmond pointed out clinically, putting away his phone. “Cleaning up the human loose ends would be a pain, but worth it.”
I inhaled and nodded, considering what he was saying. “I think Lorcan has to give us the go ahead. I don’t want her thinking that we think she can’t handle her own problems.”
Desmond nodded and then smiled, a cold, calculating look appearing on his face. “I’ll have some of my guard stop by later, anyway, just for a talk.”
Right.
I kept my eyes on her as I suggested, “She should meet our guards, just in case we are ever separated.”
Desmond let out a low rumble but didn’t argue. As we neared the large doors that led to the outside lunch pavilion, Lorcan looked back at us. Her face was once again glowing and healthy, her eyes filled with curiosity and a simmering heat that encouraged me to walk a bit faster.
Possessiveness rolled over me at the sign of her health. I wanted to protect that. Protect her. I knew her days had been filled with darkness for so long, but that was before. Before she had people that she could rely on.
“Make sure you do more than talk tonight,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Just don’t kill him… yet.”
There was no point in acting like I was anything different than the bastard I was, but I had been trying. This, though, was a clear line. I could tolerate a lot of things, but hurting Lorcan was not one of them.
The game of pretending I hated her had ended, and now she would just have to deal with my suffocating attention and overbearing bullshit. I had been in love with this woman for years now, and I had a lot of shit buried that was starting to resurface.
I hoped she was ready for that.
3
Lorcan
“Boy if you wanna go I would not mind
But I'm not the kind of drum you play one time.”
-One Time by Marian Hill
“Is it just me, or has school become impossibly more boring than before?” Cormac asked curiously as our last class bell rang.
I was glad that he and I had a class together, because with all the shit going on, I felt like I’d barely seen him since our escape from Broken House. Not that I was being sentimental or shit… but I mean, the guy was my twin. That was a connection that was unbreakable, no matter the time or distance.
I could say, happily so, that he looked well-rested and possibly even chipper. The bastard was fucking happy as hell, and I was thrilled for him, but secretly also a bit jealous considering my full-blown panic attack earlier. Cormac, though, more than anyone, deserved healthy, real love.
The two of us stood as we began to make our way from the classroom as I pointed out, “I just think we were so high we didn’t realize we were in school most of the time.”
“Oh, hey,” he snapped, turning towards me in the hall, “That reminds me, do you still want to practice later?”
My lips curled up viciously at his words, the implications of what I was planning being brought to the front of my mind. Yes, I wanted to work on our music. If we managed to create what I had planned, it may be able to help us with our little problem regarding Mr. Black. Because trust me, the sadistic fucker would show up, no doubt about it.
Anxiety hit me square in the chest as I considered the fact that I knew there were so many other things we had to worry about as well. Problems that I’d brought into my men’s life. I knew they would tell me I was being ridiculous but… if I’d never returned to Arizona, they would have never had to deal with this.
I mean, I’d be stuck in a torturous cycle with Toris, suffering every single day… but they wouldn’t have to worry about Black or the fucked-up cosmic warning I’d gotten about the dark ones. Or even the bloody eyeball that had been left for me by, presumably, a stalker?
In some ways, my life felt more chaotic now that I was sober than it ever had when I was high. I found myself overthinking everything, and that adjustment was not one that came easily. I shook myself and tried to put on an emotionally blank expression.
I could be softer around my men, but not when I was alone. I needed to be able to function without them… right? I knew this was going to be a struggle, because I couldn’t help but connect them to the positive changes and healing I’d undergone recently.
Was that a bad thing, though? I didn’t think so.