I struggle out of Ian’s arms and stumble toward the bathroom, retching bile into the toilet once more. I curl against the wall beside it, silent sobs of despair racking through me.
Ian crouches down in front of me, a cool, wet cloth in his hands. He dabs at my flushed skin, wipes away the tear-smudged makeup around my eyes, every stroke of the washcloth followed by a stroke of his fingers, his touch achingly gentle. Tender.
He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to.
He tosses the cloth into the sink, scoops me up into his arms, and takes me back to my nest where he wraps us in the softest blankets and holds me close.
“Use your affinity right now. On me,” he tells me.
My brows furrow, but I reach out with my magic, letting my intention guide my affinity until a link snaps into place between us, until his thoughts and emotions flood into me.
Untillovefloods into me. The love of this brilliant man, who swore he couldn’t be my alpha, even though he knows we’re inevitable.
Saints above, I weep again, but this time it’s because I have the love and devotion, the care and protection, of Ian Reinhardt.
* * *
A poundingsounds at the door sometime after midnight and I hear Marcus’ calling for me.
“Marcus is home from his night off.”
“I’m not leaving,” he vows.
“I’m not asking you to. But I’d like you to let Marcus in before he rips the door off its hinges.” I shift in Ian’s arms, his purr finally quieting, and he lets me up, following me to the stairs and down the landing. He shields me with his body as he approaches the door and drags the chair away from beneath the knob. He peers through the peephole and then finally undoes the deadbolt and locking spell.
As soon as the door swings open, Marcus crosses to me in a few long strides, dragging me into his arms and pulling me off my feet. Alpha protectiveness pours off of him, along with a chaos of emotion I’ve never seen or felt in my stoic honor guard before. Saints, his instincts have him wound up just as tightly as Ian was. He scoops me up and settles on the couch with me in his arms, glaring at Ian.
“Tell me what happened,” he barks at Ian.
“Juniper is safe. Don’t make her relive it,” Ian says with a frown.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “He needs to know, and I can… I can manage.” Ian tracks my gaze and brings Marcus’ sweater over to me, but lets Marcus help me into it when my honor guard shoots him a warning glare.
“Will you make some tea?”
He gives my hand a squeeze, not daring to get any closer to Marcus. Still, Marcus growls.
“He saved me, Marcus,” I tell my honor guard, taking his hand in both of mine. “Ian got me out of the ballroom when the hexes started to fly.” I nod to the singed back of Ian’s tuxedo jacket just as he strips it off and tosses it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. The other alpha has his back to us, giving us some semblance of privacy as we talk, though I know from his tense posture that he hangs on my every word, that his heightened senses miss nothing. “He took a hex that was meant for me.”
“Tell me?” Marcus’ voice is a helpless, broken thing, filled with shame and regret. “Fuck, I should have been there. I should have—”
“Ishould have been safe surrounded by so many people. I wasn’t. Not until Ian made sure I was after… after…” I let out a shudder sigh. “After Trinity killed herself.”
I recount the night, sparing no detail, telling the two alphas everything Rad told me, everything he thought. Marcus growls, a low, unending sound that deepens when I tell him that Rad called Trinity a courting present.
“I’ll kill him myself,” he swears.
“Get in line,” Ian mutters, handing me a steaming mug of milky tea. “Haley, tea?”
At Marcus’ low growl, Ian shrugs and sets it on the table, dropping into the armchair across from the couch, a mug in his own hands.
I recount the internal struggle in Trinity’s mind, the malevolent power of the blood magic, as much for Ian as for Marcus. When I finish, ending with the firefight and Rad’s crooning question, asking if I’ll behave, Marcus tightens his hold around me. Slowly, the alpha energy drains from him, and my sweet, stoic honor guard returns.
“She died free because of you, Juniper. You gave her that gift.”
“I could have stopped her.”
“How?” Marcus asks.
