throat to choke her. It didn't dissipate when he lowered her legs and pulled her close to his chest, lifting her with him as he straightened.
"Lex?" His fingers smoothed through her hair, slow and gentle. "You with me?"
"I'm here." Here--and with no idea what to do next.
Dallas caught her chin and tilted her head back, but as soon as his mouth opened, the door rattled under a brisk knock. His brow furrowed as he glared past her. "If someone's not bleeding or invading, go the fuck away."
Bren's low voice drifted through the door. "You're gonna want to see this."
Sighing, Dallas swung Lex up in his arms. He crossed the wide room to deposit her on the edge of his bed, then fastened his pants and swept up a discarded T-shirt for her. "Sorry, love. You know how it goes."
"It's business," she murmured, grateful for the distraction as she drew the soft cotton over her head.
Dallas didn't bother with a shirt or even buckling his belt. She could read his irritation in the muscles of his back, tense under his tattoos as he stalked to the door.
On the other side, Bren leaned against the doorframe, an ivory-colored envelope in his hand. "Messenger delivered it just now."
"Great." Dallas glared at the envelope like it contained live explosives, but after a moment he plucked it from Bren's hand. "Well, we knew it was coming. Have Rachel make us something to eat and pry Jas out of Noelle. Tell him I need him in my office in an hour."
"Anyone else?"
"I need you to stick close. And find Mad."
"Will do." He glanced past Dallas, and a hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth. "Hi, Lex."
Dallas slammed the door in his face.
Lex didn't have time to be pissy about Bren's amusement. She couldn't stop staring at the envelope in Dallas's hand, at the thick but graceful slashes of royal purple ink across the front. "From Cerys?"
He returned to the bed and flipped the envelope, revealing an intricate orchid seal imprinted in purple wax. "Guess so."
The tattoo, the collar, the fucking... "You'll want me to go with you, I guess."
Instead of answering, Dallas pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and flicked it open. The sharp edge sliced through wax and the envelope alike, and the scent of orchids assaulted her as he withdrew the letter and unfolded it.
It was concise, to the point. His gaze traveled from the top to the bottom of the letter twice before he turned it over to her wordlessly.
A summons, as she'd suspected. "It was inevitable."
Dallas dropped his knife on the dresser and reached for the whiskey. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." Forgoing glasses, he took a swig directly from the bottle before meeting her gaze. "I can't imagine you like the idea of going back to Two, but I need you with me."
For so many reasons that were strictly political--for her knowledge, for the sake of appearances. To watch his back and fight if necessary. But she suspected those reasons had little to do with why. "I understand."
He offered her the whiskey. "I'm going to be dealing with this most of the day. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon, with Bren and probably Mad."
"Anyone I should bring?"
"The queen of Sector Four." Dallas grinned at her before hauling on a shirt. "Anything we do, we do together, love. I agreed to it."
She realized with a jolt that he was right. She'd been thinking of sex when she'd written the words--hadn't she?--but they applied to everything. As far as the world was concerned, their names went together, and so did their authority. They still had personal shit to muddle through, but that took a back seat. They had to present a united, harmonious front, to their own people and everyone else.
Anything else meant weakness, and weakness in front of the other sector leaders meant death.
Chapter Six
Rachel was the only woman Dallas knew who could chastise with food. The stack of grilled cheese sandwiches at his elbow was stingy on the cheese and generous with the grilling, resulting in charred edges that tasted like crap. I ain't your woman, and I've got actual shit to do was the message, reinforced by the lack of fries and the absence of any of Rachel's homebrew. She wouldn't turn down a direct order, but she had no trouble letting Dallas feel the bite of her irritation.
As Jasper sat, Dallas shoved the plate across the table. "Good thing I'm leaving. Give me another day