Njáll
Mauricepushesmeoverto the bathroom as soon as we are back at the clan house and in my rooms. We have been stopped numerous times on our way here, and he has done his best to be patient, I can tell, but now his fingers bite where he holds me, a growl rumbling deep in his chest.
He wants me. I know that. I want him too, more than I have wanted anyone in my entire life. But I do not know how far that goes.
No, I do. I am not willing toadmithow far it goes, and that I return his feelings just as strongly.
He reaches past me to turn on the shower, one hand still curled around my hip. “Maurice,” I say as the water begins running, and he turns his face, pressing it against my throat.
“No words,” he says and nips the skin underneath his lips.
“Yes, words,” I reply. I turn in his arms and press him back against the sink. I do not know what it is, but I can feel his magic now, the way it sparks when his eyes flash with amusement. “You are part of the Wild Hunt again?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
He studies me in silence. Steam begins to fill the room around us.
“It is,” he admits. “I came here… I wanted to find you because I knew I didn’t want to be part of your clan without you.”
“And now?”
“I suppose I don’t know if I can be part of your clan, but I am yours, Njáll.Yours.”
“And his.” I don’t know why I am so focused on this, but Maurice smiles up at me, and his hands on my hips drag me closer.
“I am not without leverage,” he says, “and I can survive without my magic. It is more the purpose than the man, Njáll. You would never have liked me so much if I were a lazy vampire.”
I huff. It is true, perhaps. “It will be dangerous.”
“You’re the crai of all of London’s vampires. I think we’re both in dangerous positions.”
“With everything that’s going to happen—”
“We’rebothin dangerous positions,” Maurice repeats. He searches my face. “You understand that, don’t you? Meilyr was the first to think of exploiting the treaty, the relationships between you all, but he will not be the last. You are strong, Njáll. Theywillcome after you.”
“And you?”
“As long as they aren’t high fae, you have no need to worry,” Maurice says, and I think he’s only exaggerating a little. “And after the Huntsman has spent time in the Otherworld, I do not believe we will see another high fae for a while.”
I hum and wrap my arms around him, and we both desperately need to shower, but I am content here for now. My eyes slide shut, and Maurice’s breaths are warm and even against my throat, and we might only have two days—because I know the Huntsman has given him a respite that he did not have to—but maybe we can stay like this for the entire duration.
“Shower,” Maurice says. “And bed.”
I am exhausted, despite all the blood I consumed at the pack house, and though Maurice and I help each other out of our clothes, and my heart beats a little faster at the sight of all his skin, I am not roused beyond that. He ushers me into the shower ahead of him and washes my hair first, grumbling only a little when I wash his in turn.
The sun is rising by the time we make it through to the bedroom. True to Afsaneh’s word, Maurice’s bag sits at the foot of the bed, though he does not stop to look in it. He pushes me under the duvet instead, still naked, and then curls up behind me, tangling his legs with mine.
“Sleep?” I ask, and Maurice huffs.
“We have two days,” he says, “before I will have to go somewhere to deal with some fae who should not be causing trouble. Or who need help, maybe. I want to rest.”
“Oh. I thought—”
Maurice leans up and pulls me onto my back. His hand lands on the centre of my chest, magic pulsing against me for a fleeting moment.
“When we wake up, we can have all the fun we like.”
