Chapter 15

Ch. 15: Dane

With his tale at an end and his injuries treated, Halloran insists he's fit to drive himself home. So, after dropping Julian at the cottage, I take him back to where we'd left his car.

When I pull to the curb behind his vehicle, he makes no move to get out and remains in his seat. I'm about to ask if he wants me to take him home, after all, when he speaks.

"Thank you for giving me the chance to explain myself," he says. "I'm not sure I'd have had the patience in your place."

"Why's that?" I ask, my voice rough after the long silence. "Because I'm a Wolf?"

He gives me an apologetic smile. "Yes, partly; but more so because your mate is Fae."

"And?"

Halloran doesn't answer immediately and turns back to the window. I take the opportunity to study him in detail, having hardly recognized him in the tunnel. The man I'd met at Lagrange's funeral had been plain as a brown paper bag, while the man beside me is as beautiful as Julian, in his own way.

"I didn't know my sister's son had a child," he murmurs. "No one did — until you came to the Council for help last year. Julian has been the subject of much debate since that time.

"In what way?" I ask, my misgivings stirring to life once more.

"He represents a rare and powerful bloodline, and he carries the legacy of the leannan sidhe. Having come of age here, in this world, he's also uniquely suited to continue that bloodline and legacy. Some among the Court are eager for him to return home."

"This is his home."

Halloran nods. "I prefer this world myself, to be honest. I like the grit and grime of it. Feels more real, somehow. But Faerie calls to the Fae heart, they say, and even I hear and heed it, time to time."

"If you got a point, make it," I snap.

Unfazed, Halloran gives me a crooked smile. "It's just that you ought to know others may take an interest in Julian's fate, before long. He's spoken for, aye," he continues, seeing the protest on my face. "That's clear enough from where I stand. But you must know that plenty among both your people and mine would be loath to recognize a union such as yours, and would sooner offer poison than blessings."

I lift my brows at him. "Are you telling me not to trust the Fae?"

"Well," he winks, "it is good advice, after all."

Mindful of his shoulder, he gets out, shuts the door, and leans through the open window.

"I'll be in touch. I'm afraid we've bungled the tunnels — if there was anything useful down there, Rhiannon will have moved or destroyed it by now — but I'd still like a closer look at the portal. That's not going anywhere. Perhaps tomorrow, after we've all had a good rest, we can meet up again. Invite your Shifter friend if you like, and I'm sure Julian will have more questions for me as well."

"I'm sure," I murmur as he pats the roof and walks away. I watch him for a moment, then shake my head, pull onto the street, and head for home. He doesn't have to warn me against the lure of the Fae.

The first one I'd ever met stole my heart the instant I laid eyes on him.

***

I find Julian resting on the couch when I return home, a pillow and an ice pack beneath his wrist. I try not to disturb him as I hang up my jacket and keys, but he stirs and sits up, blinking blearily as I come over to check on him.

"Hey, beautiful," I say, brushing stray strands of silky brown hair away from his face. "Where's Ingrid at?"

"Chloe and Grace's," he says. "She brought her cello over to practice. And don't 'hey beautiful,' me," he adds, pretending to frown. "It's gonna take more than a little sweet-talk to make up for this."

He nods at his wrist. I know he's not serious, but it gets me anyway, and a shard of guilt goes right through my heart. He sees it, and all traces of humor vanish.

"Dane, don't," he says, laying his uninjured hand on my arm as I sit next to him. "It was an accident."

Rubbing my thumb over the back of his fingers, I frown. "Accident or not, I hurt you."

He shakes his head. "I might have shot you. You did the right thing: you protected yourself and neutralized an unknown threat."

"That's the problem," I argue. "I should have known it was you. I should have sensed it: your smell, your heartbeat, the sound of your breath. I know them better than my own, and yet..."

"I was covered in dust and Halloran's blood," he counters.

"I can smell you now, just fine."

"Because you know what to look for." He sighs, tucking himself against my side. "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm safe, and you're safe: that's what matters."

I try to listen to him and to let it lie, but I just can't.

"What about next time?" I ask.

He leans away again to look at me, purple eyes seeking mine. "What do you mean?"

"What if I'm the one with the gun, Julian?"

He blinks, taken aback. "You're too well-trained for that. You'd never use lethal force without knowing exactly what you were shooting at."

"Training can't prepare you for everything," I say. "Real life seldom resembles textbook examples. Real life is messy, and decisions — and mistakes — get made in split seconds. Believe me, I know."

He frowns, the soft light in his amethyst eyes dimming as he ponders this.

"Okay, then what's the solution?" he asks. "Because you can't just lock me in a padded room for the rest of my life to keep bad things from happening to me. I mean, you could, but I wouldn't like it," he adds, a hint of his mischievous smile returning to play at his lips.

I can't quite summon a smile in return, and the shadow of his own quickly fades.

"What? Dane, tell me what you're thinking."

I take a breath and release it slowly before answering. "As Halloran said, the land here is powerful. If I bond with it as alpha, my abilities would grow stronger as well. Then, I could sense you a mile off, even under a layer of rock dust."

Julian's expression tenses, and I see him turning things over in his mind. "Okay," he says at last, "but we've been over this. If it's what you want, then it's what I want, too."

Conflict twists my features, and I shake my head. "Don't say that. Don't say that what I want is what you want, Julian."

He sighs, the beginnings of frustration creeping into his tone. "Is this about what Halloran said? About the leannan sidhe? Because if it is, you don't need to worry. This territory thing is something you do, not something I could 'grant' you, anyway. And when I say 'what you want is what I want,' I mean it. If what you wanted was to move to Alaska, adopt twelve children and start a cult, we'd have a problem."

His smile returns, and he rubs his good hand across my chest.

"That's what I meant when I told you to ask me again when you knew my answer had changed. My answer has always been 'yes,' Dane. You just have to trust it."

"Julian..."

"Hey — we can talk about it later. For now..." He holds up his braced wrist. "I need a shower, and it's hard to undress one-handed."

A little of the tension leaves me as I help him to his feet. "Alright, you win. You know I won't pass up a chance to get you out of your clothes."

He rolls his eyes and then winces as he tries to flip me off with the wrong hand. He may have been joking, but he's also right: it'll take more than a few words to make up for my mistake, and while he clearly doesn't blame me, it'll be awhile before I stop blaming myself.

***

Retrieving a bread bag and some rubber bands from the kitchen, I join Julian in the bathroom.

"What's that for?" He asks, eyeing the bag.

"Hold out your hand," I say.

He obeys, but I shake my head and smile. "Other hand."

Reluctantly, he extends the one wrapped in the brace. Slipping the bag over it, I secure it near his elbow with the bands.

"Seven younger siblings, remember?" I say. "They all broke something at some point. When you're wearing something you're not supposed to take off for six weeks, it's best not to get it wet."

"Oh." He relaxes and smiles up at me, the light in his eyes growing warm. "Hey, remember the night I found out about you being a Wolf?"

"How could I forget? A shape-shifting murderer tags you as his next victim, and you wander outside in the middle of the night when you hear strange noises because you're worried about me."

"And then I got chased by a giant wolf, who ran me down and made me sprain my wrist. Maybe this is our thing." He laughs, examining his bag-wrapped arm.

Slipping two fingers beneath his chin, I tip his face up towards mine and shake my head. "Nah. This is our thing," I say and press a light kiss to his mouth.

I feel him smile against my lips. "Oh, yeah. And then the giant wolf turned into a naked man and declared his lust for me. And it's been puppy-love ever since."

I pull back a little and look at him, feeling my heart warm and lighten at his words. I realize he's taking care of me as much as I'm taking care of him right now — keeping things light — and so I return his smile and kiss him again.

"Yeah, it has. Typical fairy tale."

He laughs and steadies himself against me as I help him out of the rest of his clothes and into the shower. I undress as well and join him beneath the hot spray. Then, with gentle care, I wash his body and shampoo his hair, and now and then, kiss a patch of smooth, milky skin. But despite his seemingly unflappable good mood, I know he's tired, and I deflect his attempts to raise the heat.

When we're both clean and warmed through, I dry us off, wrap us in towels, and lead the way back to our bedroom for fresh clothes. There, Julian flops on the bed, lifting his arms above his head and raising one knee so the towel rides up his thigh.

I turn away and dig through the closet for a suitable set of garments.

"Ingrid said she'd be back around seven-thirty," he says offhandedly.

"Okay."

"It's barely six."

I turn to him with raised brows. "And?"

"We've got the house to ourselves for at least another hour."

"Oh. You mean...?"

"I mean, you've got nothing to make up for, Dane; but if you did, I can think of a few ways to start."

He trails his uninjured hand over his lightly muscled abdomen, stirring my desire like a breeze stirring coals. Despite my commitment to be sure his needs are entirely met before I even consider mine, I find myself drawn to his invitingly supine form.

He smiles up at me as he draws me down at his side; and like some ill-fated hero caught in the enchantresses' snare, I am disarmed by the beauty of his smile.

"Ask me," he breathes as I lay claim to his body. "Ask me, and know that my answer is the truth."

I kiss his shoulder and the side of his throat. "You're my heart, Julian. Will you stay with me?" I ask. "Will you stand at my side as I take this land for our pack?"

He keeps his injured wrist above his head, but his other arm and both his legs tighten around my back.

"Yes," he whispers in my ear, "I will."

Like sparks to fuel, his words set my heart alight; and for what might be the first time since he returned from Faerie, I feel like I've got all of him, entirely safe, in my arms.

My worries subside. He's already given me my heart's desire; what more could I possibly want?