“Enough of that.” Maddox cradled the back of my head and brought me closer, pressing his lips into my hair. “We’re all beside you tonight. That’s the only place your mind should be. Here with us. Nowhere else.”
He removed my boots while Callum grabbed my overnight satchel and handed me warm socks and my sleep shirt.
“I’m not a kid,” I told them.
“Hush and let us take care of you.” Maddox removed my tunic and helped me into the softer sleep shirt.
Once ready for bed, I lay down and covered up. But I was far from relaxed. My anxiety was sky-high. A looming war. A powerful mercenary. And a dangerous secret I carried that not only made me a target but could hurt my men as well, should anyone learn the truth.
Lake stepped away from the window and rifled around in my bag before withdrawing something. “Here.” He placed Mister Hop in my arms. The stuffed animal used to belong to him, but it had since become a comfort item for me. “He’ll chase away any bad dreams.”
“Where will all of you sleep?” I cuddled the rabbit, eyes suddenly heavy and anxiety gradually loosening its hold. “This bed’s not big enough for all of us.”
“Since you’re holding a rabbit, it’s only fitting the other one sleep with you too,” Rowan said, shifting sideways on the window ledge. He leaned against the frame, allowing him to see us and the view he loved at the same time. “Captain Glutton may be too big to squeeze in, but the pup probably can since he likes to sleep on your lap.”
“The captain and physician can have my bed,” a voice said from the open doorway. Draven entered the room. “I’ll keep watch through the night with Shadow.”
Rowan nodded to him. He didn’t smile, but I caught a soft gleam in his topaz eyes.
“Good night, sweetheart.” Maddox kissed me and smoothed my bangs aside. “We’ll be here when you wake.”
Briar kissed me next and added a second to my temple before joining Maddox in the other bed. Callum crawled in behind me and slipped an arm beneath my head, pulling me to his chest. Being spooned by him put me even more at ease. The bed was just a tad bigger than a full-sized one, but we managed to fit fairly well.
The instant I closed my eyes, those worrisome thoughts struck again, made worse by images of battle and the one thing I could never survive: losing any of my men.
Lake nuzzled my belly and peered up at me, the purple in his eyes faintly glowing in the dimly lit room. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I said, throat tight. “Just finding it hard to shut off my brain.”
“I can help with that.”
He then started to sing.
It was a lullaby he’d sung to me many times, yet it always helped soothe my restless mind. The bad thoughts fluttered away, leaving behind nothing but a full heart that led me into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seven
A Touch of Magic
Nothing kept me from cooking breakfast for my men. Not even a messy, super-gross kitchen that needed buckets of Lysol and an exorcism.
War drums kept a steady rhythm in my mind as I tiptoed down the stone steps and approached the little kitchen of horrors, preparing for a battle of epic proportions. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it’d appeared on the surface. Once I cleaned off the counters, scrubbed the dishes, and threw out the moldy bread, it turned out to be functional enough. Equipment was a bit outdated but operable.
The pantry was depressing. Whoever was in charge of stocking it needed to be fired. Same went for the refrigerator. I found the basics though—eggs, flour, sugar, and butter—and got to work.
Pancakes and scrambled eggs for the win. Simple but delicious.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, leaving the sky dark. Not that I could see much of the outside. The small windows didn’t allow for much light. Then again, it was a base for an order of spies. Privacy was important.
“Do you always wake so early?”
I jolted around with a small squeak, spatula at the ready. “Oh. Reign. It’s just you. Good morning.”
His lips skewed up. “You’re a jumpy little thing.”
“Can you blame me?” I lowered my weapon—er, spatula. “I’m in a dark, creepy tower, hiding from a homicidal mercenary. You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”
“My apologies.” He tipped his head, still with that smirk in place. He looked fresh out of the bath, smelling like sandalwood-scented soap. Still dressed in an all-black ensemble though, minus the hood and mask. “What are you making?”
