I sniffle against his navy uniform sweater and nod. “The spare room, can we turn it into a study for him?”
Cassian strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. “Of course, Junes. Whatever either of you needs or wants. We’ll do it.”
* * *
Grief washesthrough me when I step into Ian’s office for the last time, a mug from Ciel warming my hands. Luca steers me toward Ian’s desk, but I shake him off. If we’re doing this, by the saints, we’re going to do it right. I take pictures of everything. Every bookshelf, every drawer in his desk. Every errant pile of books I find stacked around his office. I snap a dozen pictures of the rolling blackboard we’ve been working out the Ever Ember hex on, and when I’m finally satisfied, I begin packing up the oldest, most fragile volumes just how Sienna taught me to.
Marcus drops Ian’s coat around my shoulders, and I let my alpha’s scent wash over me. Saints, this is all my fault. And Rad warned me. He told me he would ruin Ian. What if this is only the start?
My men fuss over me, but I insist on helping pack instead of bossing them around. It’s when I’ve cleared the first shelf on the bookcase I’m working through that I find the first forgotten Ciel mug, its bottom stained with coffee.
I retreat just long enough to grab a bus bin from the café, because I’m sure it’s not the only cup I’ll find with books absently stacked in front of it.
I insist on being the one to empty Ian’s desk. I carefully gather up every rubber-banded stack of index cards in the middle drawer and file them carefully in a shallow box, taking care to keep them in whatever meticulous order he’s put them in. I’ve finally started to understand his chaotically elaborate filing system, and I’m damn determined to maintain it for him.
It’s at the bottom of the last drawer that I find a copy of the only picture I have of us together. It flutters out of a leather-bound notebook when I pick it up and my heart skips a beat when I realize what’s on the pages it was slipped between. Saints, it’s practically a library’s worth of books, starred, underlined and annotated, and I recognize many of the titles—because they’ve been the courting gifts Ian’s given me. I snap it shut quickly, because I know Ian would hate it if I spoiled any of his apparentlymanysurprises.
My sweet, sentimental, imperious, and brilliant alpha. Saints, how I love him.
* * *
Cassian passesme his phone the moment we’ve loaded up the SUV with the first trip’s worth of boxes. “Pick out the bookcases, a desk and chair, a nice comfy reading chair for yourself, and whatever else you think he’ll need. Order anything you want, and I’ll have it delivered and set up before dinner.”
I squeeze my mate’s hand, hoping he can feel just how grateful I am for him. I know Cassian and Ian don’t always see eye to eye—especially where I’m concerned—but Cassian knows Ian’s just as much a part of my pack as he is. He knows how much I love him, and because I love him, I know Cassian would do just about anything for him.
It takes Cassian and Luca five trips, but eventually all the boxes are stacked to the ceiling outside the spare room—Ian’s soon-to-be new study. The furniture is delivered and set up by late afternoon, and this time, after making me a coffee, my mates sit me down in the new desk chair. It smells of leather and wood polish, but I’m desperate for it to smell like my alpha instead.
I direct my men while I unpack the things from Ian’s old desk, meticulously organizing everything into the drawers of the new one.
“Wait, no! Sorry, those papers go over here.” I hop up from the chair and take the stack of papers from Simon’s hands, shuffle them into the correct order, and then sandwich them between two old tomes of Baphomet lore.
“Junes, this makes no sense,” Cassian moans. “There are papers and index cardseverywhere.”
“It makes sense to him. And to me, a little. I just… I don’t know. I want him to be okay. He lost everything for me, and if this is all I can do for him, I want to do it well.”
“Oh, kit-kat,” Simon says softly. “You can’t blame yourself for this. Ian knew the risks.”
“Rad did this because he wanted to hurt me—to hurtus.”
“But he didn’t, love. This isn’t a defeat for us or a victory for Rad. Ian may have loved teaching, but you’re his world. He’ll be sore about it for a few days—and we’ll have to keep him busy—but after that, he’ll be okay. And when he’s not, he’ll have you. He’ll have all of us.”
“That’s what packs are for, princess. We stick together. Now, this book looks like it’s older than actual dirt and I’m afraid to touch it. Help me out?”
I help Luca with the old tome and then turn my attention to the rolling blackboard I ordered, frowning at it thoughtfully before opening a new box of chalk. I transcribe the magical calculus line by careful line, the chalk crumbly in my fingers, just as it was in my vision. I refer to my phone after each sigil to make sure I’ve gotten the equation down perfectly.
I’m finishing up one of the bottom rows of Ian’s magical calculus when Cassian’s phone chimes, startling me and making me mess up the sigil I was drawing.
I feel a spike of apprehension down the length of my bond with Cassian and look up sharply.
“What is it?”
“Group chat from Graeme. Fuck, Jack’s been struck by the Ever Ember hex.”
Another message comes through, and Cassian’s frown deepens.
“Ian’s on his way to Graeme’s to nullify the hex. Saints, I hope he makes it in time.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out just as Simon swipes his own phone open.
