68: The Summons

Quincy St. Martin

Caspian’s body freezes beside me. His hand tightens around mine. His relaxed, playful demeanor vanishes. A torrent of anger, frustration, and a slew of other negative emotions pour out of him, hitting me like a ton of bricks to the head before it slams shut.

His beautiful face is cold and inscrutable.

“When?” His voice is curt and steely.

“They want us back by tomorrow evening,” answers Lazarus. “The jet will be ready and waiting tomorrow at dawn.”

“No, we can’t make it back by tomorrow night. We shouldn’t,” says Constantine. “Lady Celeste will be in no condition to travel by tomorrow.”

“Do they know about her?” asks Caspian.

The men exchange grim looks.

“Not yet.” This time, it’s Darius who replies. “I’d rather they see her when she’s fully recovered. That would at least soften the blow.”

The others seem to agree with him.

“That’s true,” agrees Constantine. “I doubt very much that the Comté de Villennes is eager to start a war with us over his daughter, but he would do it just to save face if she went back in the condition she’s in now. So we need to buy more time.”

“Leave that to me,” Caspian says. “I’ll deal with it now.”

With that, he leans in to kiss my forehead, reaches for his phone from his pants pocket, and walks out through the back door.

His body is ramrod straight like he’s preparing for a battle. The atmosphere in the room is somber as we stare at each other anxiously after he leaves.

“It’ll be fine,” says Serena, reaching out to twine her fingers around Lazarus’s.

We make small talk, and the girls start talking about our plan to go shopping tomorrow. I know they’re trying to distract me, but my heart isn’t in it.

I don’t pretend to understand the politics of the palace and the rulers of the packs, but I can’t help but feel the apprehension over what we’re facing and the weight that my mate is carrying.

Half an hour later, he’s still out there talking on the phone. Once in a while, the wind carries his solemn, monotone voice in through the open glass door. I think he’s speaking in a foreign language, so even if I could hear the full conversation, I’d still have no clue of what he’s saying. Jorden joins us in the great room a few minutes before the cook announces that dinner is ready.

The dinner table is beautifully set with gleaming silverware and crystal glasses. Light bounces off the wrought iron and crystal chandelier above the dining table.

The smell of food wafts in from the kitchen, but I’m too keyed up to appreciate the delicious smell. My mind is centered on my mate, whose feelings are closed off to me.

The bond allows us to sense each other’s feelings, but he’s closing it off to me now. He does that whenever he’s anxious or worried. We should have a talk about that.

I know he wants to protect me, but shouldn’t we share everything?

I’m about to take a seat at the table when he strides in. Everybody stops to look at him expectantly, waiting for the news, but he walks purposely right to me.

He gathers me into his arms and buries his face deep into the crevice of my neck.

The other lycans just continue to take their seats at the table, and the conversation continues as if nothing happened.

I wrap my arms around him, trying to give him as much comfort as I can. I run a hand down his back soothingly, while another one skims his broad shoulder.

His muscles flex under my palm. His nose and lips brush my neck as he breathes in deeply like my scent is the only thing that anchors him to his sanity.

He’s so tall he towers over me. He’s so big and powerful, a future king of deadly beings in this realm. The thought that he needs me is humbling.

He rests his forehead on my shoulder and takes another deep breath before he straightens up.

He pulls the chair back for me and pushes it forward as I sit before he takes his own seat next to me at the dinner table.

Everybody stops talking. Even Jorden, who’s not aware of what’s going on, turns to look at us expectantly.

He takes my hand in his and says, “We have until Sunday. One week from today.”

“One week, that was some negotiation. Did you sell your soul?” Constantine asks.

“Pretty much,” he replies while his eyes flash to me. His hand tightens around mine. His feelings are still closed off to me.

A server and our cook come in with our appetizer.

Our first course, lobster bisque, tastes like sewer water in my mouth.

***

I peek out through the partially open bathroom door as I continue to brush my teeth.

I stare at my mate. He was brooding the whole time during dinner this evening, but he kept me close. He is still brooding now.

My golden prince is now lying on our bed, deep in thought. His shirt is missing, not that I’m complaining. His jeans are hugging him low around his narrow hips.

His hands are behind his head, which causes the muscles of his arms to bunch up.

His golden hair glows under the table lamp on the bedside table. His honey-tanned skin looks good against the silky silvery-gray bed cover.

Why does he have to look so good? He looks so good that I have to sneak a peek every few seconds. It causes me to be longer in this bathroom, doing my nightly routine of washing my face and brushing my teeth.

It feels funny to me to be sharing a bedroom, a bathroom, and a closet with someone.

I mean I used to share a room with Layla, but Layla doesn’t have nice firm masculine pecs that I want to touch or washboard abs that I want to lick.

~Gah! Stop looking!~

I close my eyes, swirl the mouthwash around my mouth, then lean down to spit into the sink. When I straighten up, he’s there, standing right behind me.

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and my pulse jumps. His smile is wolfish, and the mischievous glint is back in his eyes.

“H-how… Y-you scared me,” I tell him, clutching my chest. My heart is pounding wildly from his close proximity alone.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says, placing both hands on the counter on either side of me. Trapping me in.

“What do you want?”

I know, stupid question. I realize that as soon as I see his wicked smile widen.

He winks as he presses his warm, half-naked body into mine until I feel his hardness pressing against my lower back.

“You. I want you,” he presses a kiss just below my ear.

Goosebumps spread across my skin as delicious chills run through my body from that one little contact. He slips a finger underneath the little fabric of my tank top over my shoulder and slowly slides it down my arm.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he whispers while his eyes follow the movement as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

His finger is trailing a blazing heat across my skin.

“But you made me wait too long, my sexy minx.” He raises his smoldering eyes and meets my stare in the mirror once again.

Without breaking our eye contact, he wraps his fingers through my long dark hair and moves it to the side. Then he leans down to place his mouth on my neck where my pulse is beating. He kisses his way slowly down until he reaches my shoulder where his mark is.

He lifts his face up to look at the mark, and the corner of his lips curls up into a smug-looking smile.

The look on his face is so possessive that it causes me to take a quick intake of breath. He locks eyes with me again and says, “You’re all mine.”

He presses an open mouth on the mark, sucking, biting, licking. I throw my head back. Oh, God, that feels so amazing.

He closes his eyes, and a deep groaning sound rumbles through his chest. He keeps sucking on my skin as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. I clamp my mouth shut when I hear myself moaning. But the sound is like a switch being flipped inside of him.

He swiftly turns me around, lifts me up, and carries me into our bedroom.

I bounce on the mattress when he throws me on the bed.

“Why did you keep me waiting for so long?” he asks accusingly as he climbs over me. His eyes are wild with hunger.

I can’t think straight when he has his mouth on me. He lowers his head and kisses up my thigh, my hip, the sliver of skin on my waist where my boy short ends.

He’s moving up.

“I didn’t want to…to…bother you when you were…ummm…thinking,” I try to answer him, but he’s kissing my breast over the thin fabric of my top.

His fingers splay over the bare skin of my stomach.

“I need you,” he says against my skin. “I need you so desperately.” He kisses my collarbone.

“All the time.” He kisses my neck. “You make me forget when I lose myself in you. Only you.”

His mouth finds mine. Then he makes me forget everything else. Only he and I exist at this very moment.

***

“What are you doing up?” comes a sexy, husky voice from the bed.

I smile as I take in his tousled hair and the expanse of his magnificent body that’s not covered by the sheet. His head is on the pillow. His vivid green eyes are only half open, and his smile is lazy and playful.

“Come back to bed, baby,” he hums.

“Nope, I’ve showered and I’m all dressed,” I tell him as I brush my long damp hair.

The truth is I’m very tempted to jump back into bed with him even when I’m actually feeling sore. It was almost dawn when we both fell asleep.

“Did I wear you out, baby?” I ask him.

His eyes widen at my teasing. “Wear me out?” he growls. “Come back in here and I’ll show you how much you wore me out.”

I giggle, “Oh, I don’t know, I don’t want to break anything.” Then I run out as fast as I can, closing the door behind me.

I can’t stop the burst of laughter from my mouth when I hear a thumping sound and a few curse words coming from behind the closed door.

I know I’ll be paying the price later for that, but my mate is so not a morning person.

I hear a few more curse words as I sprint down the stairs. Oh, joy! My swear jar will prosper.

I was fast before, but I’m a lot faster now that I’m not a normal human. It’ll be interesting to see if I can outrun any of those lycans.

They promised to take me out for a run sometime. I can’t wait!

My steps falter when I see Lady Celeste at the breakfast table. She’s not looking too good, but there she is. She’s dressed stylishly even with a neck brace on.

Her nurse is standing right behind her chair.

Serena and Lazarus are also there, having their breakfast quietly.

Lady Celeste’s eyes narrow as soon as she spots me walking in. Both Serena and Lazarus greet me warmly as I take my place at the table.

As soon as my behind touches the wooden seat, I jump when she yells, “What is this? The coffee is lukewarm at best. I want hot coffee. A. Hot. Coffee. Bring me a hot coffee!”

Oh, well, she’s just being her usual self.

Rita, the kindly cook, scurries to bring another carafe to the breakfast table.

“You!” She turns to her nurse. “You’re annoying me. Go!” she yells. “Go stand over there.”

I turn to look at Serena, who is eating her breakfast silently and peacefully like she’s not even there.

Lazarus is also ignoring Lady Celeste, but I can see his jaw muscle clenching a few times whenever she screeches at the help.

“Are you stupid, or are you purposely trying to burn my tongue?” she yells at the cook again.

Okay, maybe she’s in pain. That’s why she’s worse than usual, but how do I even pretend to like this woman?

She promptly smashes the cup and saucer to the floor. I feel the shards bouncing off my feet.

I notice Serena holding Lazarus’s hand, trying to keep him from jumping out of his chair.

The antique cup and saucer that Lady Celeste insisted on using are lying in a thousand pieces on the gleaming marble floor.

Rita looks positively horrified. She immediately drops on her hands and knees to pick up the pieces of the broken china. Rita doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.

The woman is my cooking angel. My food fairy!

That’s it! “Hey!” I slam my hand on the table. The plates, cups, and cutlery rattle. Serena grabs my hand like she did with Lazarus.

“She’s taunting us. She’s just looking for a fight. Don’t indulge her,” says Serena.

Too late.

“Hey, what?” Lady Celeste faces me. Her expression is full of challenge.

“You don’t talk to her like that,” I growl through gritted teeth.

“Or what? What are you going to do?” she challenges. The corners of her lips curl upward into a sneer. “Are you going to kill me?”