If something happened, they would avenge me, even at the cost of their lives. I couldn’t fault them. I’d do the same. Yet that didn’t make it the right or honorable solution. My narrowed eyes made them drop their gazes. “No, you won’t. I invoked the Ninth Law to guarantee your safety, not so you’d kamikaze if the outcome didn’t suit you.”
“Celia—”
“Enough, Taran. I won’t hear anymore. You will stay out of it.”
I stormed up the steps. My sisters’ threats angered and saddened me. I fell into my bed wrestling with what could happen if I failed. Would my stubbornness keep me from calling mercy in time? I hoped not, but I couldn’t be sure. Eventually, though, the stress of the challenges and the toll they’d taken on my body kicked my worries aside and caused my lids to droop. Darkness claimed me. I fought it at first, afraid the ghosts of my past and the mind games Larissa played would trigger my worst nightmares. I didn’t expect pleasant dreams. I didn’t expect him to return.
I didn’t know his name. I couldn’t see his face. But I knew his arms. They were strong, stronger than mine, enveloping me with protection and an unspoken promise that I wasn’t alone. My fingers traced a line along the powerful ridges of his muscular chest.
“Hi,” I whispered when he drew me closer.
“Hi, love,” he answered in a voice that wasn’t really a voice, just a mere shadow of what could be. “I haven’t felt you against me in so long.”
“I know. I’ve missed you.” My smile faded. “I’m scared,” I confessed. Because it was only to him I could openly admit such weakness.
“You’ve been scared before.”
“Yes, more times than I can count.” I listened to his heartbeat, taking comfort in the soft, reassuring drum. “The fear, the threats—they don’t end, do they? I’m still not safe.”
“No.” His voice seemed gruff, angry. Like my fear or the possibility of me getting hurt was too much for him to take. Or maybe I just needed him to sound that way.
I rubbed my face against him, purring softly when his fingers ran gently along my unclothed back. With him, I didn’t feel the need to cover my body. It was only right for our bare flesh to touch. “Will you be with me tomorrow?”
“I’m always with you, Celia. You just don’t know it yet. . . .”
* * *
I woke to the wonderful smell of bacon, my arms clutching a pillow tight, my cheek moist from the tears on my sheets. I cried whenever I dreamt of him, mostly because he remained a figment of my wildest dreams. After all, the possibility of a male’s loving arms around me was the furthest thing from reality. Males didn’t seek my company. Period. So how could I ever convince one to hold me, to touch me, to see me as beautiful?
I wiped my eyes and slipped on a pair of yoga pants before making my way into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth would never be the same again. I paused in front of the mirror. It took several long, tension-filled minutes before I became convinced my reflection wouldn’t choke the snot out of me. I reached for my toothbrush and some paste, all the while glaring at my potential would-be assassin.
My original plan included making my bed, except the wonderful smell of delicious artery-clogging goodness made me abandon those efforts. I quickly padded down the steps, grateful I’d survived the morning’s teeth-cleansing experience.
Shayna’s bright smile greeted me in the kitchen. The window spilling the bright morning sun made her blink as she passed. Good grief, I must’ve slept a hell of a long time.
She gave me a one-arm hug, careful not to spill the batter-filled bowl in her opposite arm. “Hey, dude. I made you your favorite: bacon, bacon, and more bacon.”
I frowned, pretending to be annoyed. “No omelets to go with that bacon?”
She slapped her palm against her forehead. “Oh! How could I have been so dense? Don’t worry, Ceel. I’m on it.”
I grabbed the silverware and plates and started arranging them along the elevated bar. Shayna placed the bowl on the counter and lifted everything from my grasp. “Ah, ah, ah. You have a long day ahead of you. I’ll take care of it. Could you go see what’s keeping Taran? She promised to help with waffle duty.”
“Oh, sure.”
Taran’s room lay directly below mine on the first floor. She liked having the level to herself. I supposed it allowed the independence she’d always sought, all the while keeping us close. I knocked on her door. “Taran? You awake?” I knocked harder when she didn’t answer. “Taran?”
I opened the door, figuring I’d let her sleep if I found her snoozing. My tigress and I could take on waffle duty if necessary. No need to disturb sleeping beauty. And maybe I’d serve her breakfast in bed. God knew we all deserved a bit of kindness.