He had to see her.
Now.
It was an urge that had crept up on him.He could understand Trip’s urgency now.
The distance separating him from her had been all that kept him calm on the journey over here.With barely yards between them, his Lion was fully in control and the urge to shift was bare bones away from eating away at his strength of will.
His feet crunched on the gravel as he ran, and when he saw the lodge coming up in the distance, he sped up.Spying Trip on the verandah on his cell, he veered to a halt and looked at his Triad brother.He was pacing back and forth, his agitation evident.Gathering it was something to do with the cops on their drive, Marc knew at that moment he couldn’t handle anything other than the meeting with his mate.
He was the eldest of the Triad.Ryan was sixty-four, Trip ninety-two, and Marc was one-hundred and fourteen.He’d been waiting a hell of a long time to meet Maryellen, and nothing was about to get in between them.
Of that, he’d make certain.
Trip spotted him as he ran toward the house, but he held up a hand.“No.”
“No what?”Trip demanded, scowling at him.
“I don’t want to hear why there are cops on the drive and why you’re looking so freaked out when it’s usually impossible to freak you out.I just… I need to see her, Trip.”
“She’s sleeping, Marc.She needs her rest.”
“And I need to be with her.I won’t wake her up.I just need her.”
Trip scowled, but shrugged.“We’ll have your balls if you disturb her.”
“If I hurt her or disturb her in anyway, I’ll hand them to you.”He scoffed at the notion though.“You do realize how long I’ve been looking for her?”
“Of course, that’s why I’m not certain it’s wise for you to go stampeding in there.Your… energy will disturb her without even trying.”
Marc waved a hand.“I call bullshit.I’ll help deal with whatever’s going on when I’ve calmed down.My Lion’s riding me hard.It won’t let me do anything less than be with her.”
Sympathy coated the glance Trip shot his way, and Marc accepted it as his due.He leapt up the stairs to the front porch, barged through to the circular vestibule, then took the door that led to the steps which would take him to their mate’s room.
She was on a separate wing to them, and they’d actually built the house to certain specs that would ensure, at all times, her safety.
That was their priority.It had always been, even when she’d been an ethereal figure that belonged only in their dreams.
Marc took the steps three at a time, and as he approached Maryellen’s bedroom, he forced himself to slow down and to take a long, deep breath.Shuddering a little as the oxygen got through to his trembling beast, he grabbed the knob and carefully turned it.
When he stepped inside the room, it was dark, but he could see as easily as if it were daylight.He wanted to groan as her essence pervaded his senses, but managed to contain it.Her breathing was heavy, deep with slumber, and that was how he wanted it to stay.
The bedroom was a blank canvas at the moment.
A large bed, two simple bedside tables, a rug on the floor, and a dressing table with stool.All of it white.No character anywhere.
Though that was intentional and would come in handy as it gave her time to get comfortable here at the lodge as she made this room her own, he winced at the poorly decorated affair that was their first gift to the one woman who could complete them.
The lack of character, the lack of anything personal, it seemed like an affront.With her wealth, her power, she was used to the best of the best, and instead, they’d given her a nun’s cell.
Grimacing, and hoping she wasn’t a diva who would throw a tantrum at the bland space of her room, he headed toward the exterior wall and took a seat between the two large windows that overlooked the pool in front of the lodge.
From there, the moon shone directly into the room and illuminated her beautiful face in slumber.
It meant that when she awoke, she wouldn’t totally freak out either if she saw him seated there, legs out before him as he rested against the wall, and think him some kind of pervert intent on watching her sleep.
Her face was softly pink from slumber, and he eyed her features with the zealousness of a religious fanatic.Hoarding each perfect imperfection and claiming it as his own.From the band of freckles atop the bridge of her nose, to the deeply rose color of her lips.She had rounded cheeks thanks to the plumping up of having her hands folded beneath her head, and her hair curled around her neck, shoulders, and throat in great wavy swathes.
She was beautiful.
