I caught the sob before it could shudder across me and wake Bruiser. Breathed through the emotion that welled through me like a spring, flooding.
We are safe.
I no longer had to fight to keep people alive. Once Edmund was crowned and once someone took over as NOLA MOC, I no longer had to play politics in New Orleans. I no longer had to stay anywhere, not even at the Dark Queen’s Winter Court in Asheville. I could take time off. Travel. I’d probably still have Dark Queen responsibilities, but if Hayyel was to be believed, I would no longer have to fight to win loyalty and demand peace.
No Dark Queen had ever lived past the war they started. All the others had tried to bind vamps and force them to obey, like marionettes dancing on strings, and had died young. I had no idea what my job description would actually be. So maybe I could wing it and do what I wanted?
I was, for the first time since I rode into NOLA on my bastard Harley, Bitsa, free.
Shoving my hair out of the way, I rolled over slowly and slid closer into Bruiser’s arms, letting my thoughts seek some form of coherency, letting them mesh and solidify. Bruiser murmured but didn’t wake. I had no more battles to fight.
My people were safe.
I was free. When people have an epiphany, they often have to study it and then find a place for it inside themselves. I decided it was a little like moving things around in a house when you buy a new piece of furniture. Like—“Okay. This once went here, and that once went there, but I no longer need that ratty sofa, or that rocking chair with its uneven rocker that thumps, or that emotional baggage that’s been torturing me since I was twelve, or whatever. So I’ll toss away that stuff that is no longer a part of me.” And suddenly there was room inside for this new thing.
This new thing that was freedom.
I slid my hand up Bruiser’s back, along the bumps of his spine, and I felt him wake. I cupped his face and pressed a kiss to either corner of his mouth, and then lips to lips.
Whispering, “Morning, my love,” he opened to me, and our tongues explored.
Is Consort,Beast thought. Is best mate.
Bruiser pulled me close. Loving him was the best way to start a day.
***
A shifting of leather against wood yanked me out of a deep sleep. My hand went to my weapon. My palm slapped on the empty bedside tabletop then dove into the drawer as I shook the muzziness of sleep away.
The door didn’t open. Didn’t crash in. Didn’t do anything at all.
Outside, through the window, I heard the patter of rainfall. The squish of a guard’s footsteps making rounds.
I was holding the Beretta I kept in the drawer, not on top, not when the kids were in residence. I was breathing hard. Ready to fire. It had taken a second and a half too long had I needed to defend us.
I didn’t.
I was in bed with Bruiser, twisted in linens that smelled of love and tenderness and hot sweaty sex. It was sunset outside. Quiet inside the house.
“Jane?” Bruiser mumbled, concern in his tone.
“I thought I heard... something.” I couldn’tremember what had waked me as I blinked and kicked to untangle my legs from the sheets.
Sitting naked on the side of the bed, holding the weapon, I caught a scent.
Is cooked pig,Beast thought, salivating.Is good smell.
“Smoked meat. And,oh God, bacon.” My mouth started watering too.
Bruiser eased gracefully out of bed, and I caught a glimpse of my Consort’s ass as he pulled on his robe, covering up that splendid butt.
“Best ass ever.”
Which I did not mean to say aloud, but which made him chuckle, that knowing, pleased sound a man makes when he’s satisfied his lover.
Beast rolled over inside me, purring at the sound of his laughter.
Bruiser tossed me my robe. His voice had a liquid British sound I seldom heard. “When was the last time we woke together, love? And made love as the sun set?”
