Gethin held him so tightly, Sorley was glad he didn’t need to breathe.
“My clueless, precious, beautiful, stupid boy. Everything you call a fault is one of the many reasons I adore you. You’re the bravest person I know. You’re loyal and sexy and so damn smart, and your friends would do literallyanythingfor you.” He blinked furiously at his wet eyes. “Why d’you think I want to take the bite? I can’t bear the thought of anyone else even breathing on you, let alone falling in love with you. You’remine, princess.” His hold on Sorley deepened, borderline painful. Sorley had never been more receptive to the throbbing sting of possession in the wolf’s muscular arms.
They sat staring into each other’s eyes as time stretched around them, loaded with possibilities, and in Sorley’s case, a tendril of optimism. Gethin had been so sincere, so fervent in his declaration, that it left no room at all for doubt. No sneaky dark corners for spectres of fear and failed hopes to lurk in. Or maybe in his case, being a creature of shadows and night, it should be no sneaky bright spotlights. Relief bubbled up in him, threatening hysterical laughter. He sniggered.
Gethin manoeuvred them to lie down facing each other, but he kept one hand linking them, his palm a hot, reassuring brand on Sorley’s waist. “What’s funny, sweetheart?” He was freer with the endearments, as if declaring his love and his intention to be turned had loosened a tap which now wouldn’t turn off.
Sorley told him, his laughter almost as painful as his sobs had been, but he could tell the hurt was breaking down his walls, and he would feel lighter if he could let them crumble.
“I’ve been such an idiot,” he said finally, his hysterics under control, just a bright smile remaining. He heaved a shaky sigh. “Whydoyou call me princess?” He asked himself a question and was only mildly surprised to find his previously negative response to the nickname had changed. “I think I like it now. It’s, I don’t know, special, right?”
“Yeah, it’s special,” Gethin confirmed. His gaze was tender as he leaned over to take Sorley’s mouth in a quick, hot press of lips. “I first said it because you needled me, but I think you know that.” Sorley nodded. “Something about the way you were put together, even half deranged due to lack of blood and your clothes stained and grubby. I could tell you were hiding diamonds under your crusty shell of snark and fury.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Plus, of course, you’re such an obvious posh boy. Far too high and mighty for a common oik from the valleys like me.”
Sorley rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’m such a catch.” But he didn’t protest when Gethin began stripping his pyjamas off to disabuse him of his bad habit of being sarcastic about himself. Fast and furious, their passion climbed and burned brightly, leaving them sated, Gethin panting, and Sorley wavering in his desire to dissuade his lover from being turned. The idea was still terrifying — suppose Gethin regretted it? — but it was no longer a definite no. He remembered to set an alarm, then tucked himself against Gethin’s firm warmth and they slept.
31
GETHIN
Downstairs before Eleanorcould stare at her clipboard and grumble about supernaturals using time as a guide rather than an absolute, Gethin had devoured a hearty breakfast while Sorley, unusually for him, sipped a black coffee as he watched every mouthful Gethin consumed. He wondered if his bloodsucker was trying to make a point. Gethin, however, had done his research. Every vampire he’d spoken to, whether recently as part of his decision to turn, or during casual chatter over the years, had said the same thing: they didn’t miss food. Some of them missed the idea or the memory of it, but without exception they’d all been clear that the concept of ingesting food became abhorrent from the first moment of consciousness as a vampire. Gethin wasn’t entirely sure how vampirism would align with his wolf requiring massive quantities of meat and carbs, but there was reliable evidence that assured him that somehow it did work: vampirism was stronger than any shifter genes. Justin had forwarded him several case studies. Although it was a rare occurrence that any wolf wanted to be turned, it seemed that the novelty had always been worthy of noting for posterity. It was a comfort of sorts, because although he was set on his decision, it would be a fool who wasn’t at least a little nervous.
They met with the others in the meeting room. Sorley, Gethin was surprised to note, sat down next to Marlowe, the pair exchanging a few low words while everyone was settling in. Dalziel beckoned Gethin aside, then gestured for him to follow him into the corridor.
“With everything else we discussed, and Sorley’s somewhat fragile mood yesterday, I wanted to double check you didn’t pick up anything untoward off our witches. I don’t doubt you’d have come to me immediately if you sensed a problem, but in the current circumstances I feel paranoia isn’t so much of a personality defect as a trait to encourage. I could read Marlowe well enough for myself. The poor man seems to think we’ll either drain him or tear him limb from limb if he doesn’t do exactly what we want.”
Gethin smirked. “Accurate. He’s got balls though. He’s bricking himself but he’s determined not to roll over without complaining. I don’t blame him. I suspect his higher ups won’t be thrilled we all know about their magical skin markings.” He paused. “He’s not what I expected from a mage — they’re usually a lot flashier, but he seems competent and as keen to put an end to this nonsense as anyone else. I’ve no doubts about him at all. Trace Dempsey is rock solid too. I’d have him by my side at any time. His emotions are so open, one of our pups could read him like a picture book. Clancy seems nervous, but I think she’s your more typical witch, a bit of a loner who’s happiest in her own home, tending to her plants and community. I presume you have her on the Council due to her second sight, or whatever you call it?”
Dalziel nodded. “Precisely. And your read of all three is what I’d expected and hoped for. Thank you for confirming my expectations.” He tilted his head, as if really seeing Gethin clearly for the first time. “You still wish to go ahead as intended when the business is concluded? Sorley is on board? He seems tense this morning. Tenser than usual.”
“I’m going ahead,” Gethin confirmed. “Sorley will have to deal with it. I know we’re destined to be together, so he’ll come around to the idea.” He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, staring at an elaborate antique sconce on the opposite wall. “He’s spent far too long thinking he’s undeserving of love. It’s going to take ages to persuade him otherwise.”
“That had better not be a veiled dig at me,” Dalziel retorted sharply. “I told you, I’ve spent decades trying to rid him of his blinkers where I’m concerned.”
Gethin flushed. “Umm,” he muttered. “I’m very protective of him.”It absolutely was a dig at you.He inhaled a gulp of fortifying oxygen: now or never.
“With respect, Dalziel.” Dalziel’s eyes narrowed, but Gethin ploughed on. “With respect, your subtle suggestions didn’t work. Sorley sees them as urging him to do better. Strive harder, be more lovable. Except, as I’m sure you’re aware, he can’t change who he is. It would have been a damn sight kinder to have disabused him of any hope years ago. Like, a couple of centuries.”
He held his breath. Dalziel wasn’t known for taking criticism well. He watched as the vampire’s expression closed down, then his eyes fluttered shut. Gethin felt a blast of hurt, raw and unfiltered, coming off him, but almost instantly it was replaced by Dalziel’s usual high walls. After a full five minutes of torturous silence, shrewd hazel eyes regarded him with caution and more respect than Gethin had seen in them previously. “You are correct, of course, or I doubt you would have brought the subject up.” He paused. Gethin sucked in another much-needed lungful of air and nodded curtly. Dalziel sighed. “He is a lucky man to be loved by you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Gethin countered quickly.
Dalziel managed a tight smile. “That is precisely what I mean, Hughes.”
He continued to study Gethin for a moment, then clapped him briefly on the arm. “Let’s consider the subject closed?” Gethin inclined his head. “Good. As soon as we can halve the number of folk in my house, we shall proceed with welcoming you to the dark side.” He flashed Gethin a quick conspiratorial grin, all fangs and theatrics, making Gethin feel a sudden pang of sympathy for Sorley’s unrequited crush. Dalziel wasn’t even his type, but his vampire persona was alluring and very fucking sexy. And the bastard knew it.
Dalziel welcomed everyone back. His shrewd gaze made deliberate eye contact with everyone, taking his time to check all their needs had been met overnight. Seemingly satisfied, he looked directly at Sorley.
“The plan, such as it is, is straightforward. You will return to Leeds, taking Gethin, Marlowe and Alexander with you.” He raised one eyebrow when Sorley opened his mouth to question the addition of Alec to their party. “Alexander is fully aware that he might be required and is going willingly. I do hope you were not about to doubt my decision-making, Sorley, especially when it comes to your safety?”
Sorley clenched his jaw but shook his head. “I crave your forgiveness for my lack of faith, sire. I know better than to doubt you.” Gethin felt his humiliation and wanted nothing more than to whisk Sorley out of his chair and onto his own lap, shielding him from the senior vampire’s acid glare, but he knew better than to interfere. Gethin knew Sorley knew better, but it seemed he couldn’t resist kicking over the traces even when it was the height of folly to publicly contradict his maker. He supposed it was no different to challenging one’s alpha, always best done in private.
He wasn’t looking forward to the first pack meeting he called when he got back to Wales. That was going to be a riot, possibly literally if he didn’t come in hard and strong, which was the opposite of how he liked to run his pack. He internally sighed and turned his focus back to Dalziel.
“Trace and Clancy. You will both return home with our gratitude for your valuable contributions to our gathering. It is unlikely we’ll need you again soon, but Clancy? Please keep your telephone plugged in until we have the matter resolved. I know it pains you to be so readily contactable but if we need you, it will probably be a matter of some urgency.”
The small witch’s head bobbed in agreement. Trace jerked his chin and gave the assembly a lazy smile. “If it’s all right with you, Dalziel, I wouldn’t mind getting on the road while it’s light. I’ve a fair way to go.”
With Justin and Dalziel’s quiet nods of agreement, Trace got to his feet, bowed to the room, then slapped Gethin lightly on the shoulder as he passed. “Stay in touch, wolf. I have the feeling you’re someone I’d like to know better.” He smirked knowingly at Sorley. “Chill, dude, I know you two come as a pair. I’m not asking for a fuck.” He inclined his head respectfully to the Fae. “My Lord Volik, Lady Neele.” Gethin felt a sudden fleeting burst of tension in the witch. The Fae had that effect on a lot of people. Trace then blew a kiss at Eleanor across the table. “If you ever get bored with his highness’s high and mighty ways, give me a call, gorgeous. I could make you a very happy woman.” He left a beat, then added, “Poor, but happy.”
