Wade shrugged, fighting back a wince as the wound on his rib cage pulled with the motion. “It’s healing.”
He just needed to focus on it more, but he’d do that once Niall was dealt with once and for all. Riordan sighed and didn’t try to argue with him.
“I require an answer,” Lady Caith said.
Niall worked his jaw, hate twisting his beautiful face into an ugly expression. “And will you use my subjugation to return your court to Brigid’s good graces?”
“Tír na nÓg or a grave. It is your choice.”
“It is no choice. Bring me home, Lady of Wind and Sky.”
Lady Caith nodded, seemingly satisfied. Wade couldn’t stop the shocked cry that escaped his lips when her guards raised their swords and chopped off the heads of every single one of Niall’s followers. Niall didn’t seem surprised though, nor did he protest the action, face a study in hatred as he glared up at Lady Caith.
“Oh,” Wade said as he thought back on the conversation they’d just had. “You only spoke about Niall’s life.”
Lady Caith tipped her head in his direction. “You know words well.”
“Eh, my dire is a lawyer who works for a fae law firm. I kind of have to.”
“We should get everyone back to the boats. The storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon, and we should return to Boston before the Coast Guard thinks about coming around,” Riordan said.
“What about the bodies?”
“We’ll take them with us. Some of my clan will carry them out to the sea.”
“I’ll handle that,” Donal said, clamping a hand on Riordan’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
Wade was all for that. Almost everyone was able-bodied enough to walk out on their own two feet. Niall was led off the island at sword point, while the selkies carried the heads and dragged the bodies of the deceased fae with them back to the shore. Casey wasn’t really in any position to walk, much less shift, so one of the god pack members was carrying him.
The selkies in the water were part of other clans, but they fetched the lifeboats scattered across the waves and brought them to the shore for everyone to pile into in groups. The captains of the yachts and other boats steered their vessels as close as they dared in the stormy water. Transporting everyone to the boats took some time, but eventually, Wade found himself clambering up the metal ladder onto theNeptune, with Ailín still at the controls.
Some boats had been lost—either capsized or destroyed by Caoránach—but Wade was relieved when he overheard Riordan taking the report over the radio from other boats that everyone in the clan was accounted for.
“Thank you for all you did for us,” Riordan said when he returned to Wade’s spot in the cabin, squished into the corner on a bench.
“Thanks is a pretty big thing for your kind. Besides, I already told you that you don’t need to thank me.”
Riordan knelt before him, seemingly unbothered by the seesaw motion of the yacht as Ailín steered them back to Boston. His hand on Wade’s thigh was warm, grip gentle. Wade was acutely aware that he still had Riordan’s sealskin wrapped around his waist and that Riordan seemed in no hurry to ask for it back. “I mean it.”
“Well, I don’t want your thanks,” Wade muttered, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “I just want you.”
Riordan made a noise that wasn’t words in any language Wade’s head could translate. But that was fine because Riordan kissed him like they were the only ones on that boat in a storm Wade would fly through all over again for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Riordan wokethe day after the fight and the storm in Wade’s hotel room, spooning the younger man in the hotel bed. His nose was tucked against the back of Wade’s neck, Wade deep asleep like Riordan wanted to be. He couldn’t understand why he’d woken up until he realized he could hear someone’s heartbeat in the kitchen of the penthouse suite. It was steady and calm, and Wade hadn’t seemed to notice it at all. It made Riordan wonder if Wade was that deep of a sleeper, something which could be dangerous when their kind was hunted, or if it was something else.
He was about to wake up Wade, prepared for a fight if one was going to happen, when Riordan realized a second later why someone was able to enter the penthouse without Wade noticing or caring.
“Wade,” the person in the kitchen said, barely raising their voice but with an expectant tone of familiarity.
Whoever was out there was able to enter because they were pack, Riordan realized.
Wade jackknifed up to a sitting position in bed out of a deep sleep, staring wild-eyed at the open bedroom door. “Shit. Crap. Oh no. He’s supposed to be in DC still.”
Riordan winced, making the connection immediately. “That’s Patrick out there?”
Wade was already scrambling out of bed. “Yes, and I can’t tell him you slept on the couch when you’re in here with me!”
