“Seems like you don’t remember what I told you. How you drive me out of my mind. How badly I want you. So why don’t I make it perfectly clear?” His mouth hovered a breath from mine. “I can have you right here, so I’m covered in your scent and thoroughly claimed.”
I considered it, insane as that was, my fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. “Can she smell me on you?”
“If we do it right, she will,” he murmured, his voice thick and wholly dark.
It was so wrong, and it shouldn’t have heated my blood as it did.
I lifted my chin, aware of his gaze sliding to my mouth, fully intent on proving his point. But I already knew he didn’t care about anything else when we were together. Neither did I, and I didn’t need proof.
“I don’t want to annoy the lead smith in my deal,” I whispered. “You should go back. I’ll find the washroom. Alone.”
He gave a disappointed hum. “Such exemplary work ethic,” Reagan said, winking at me and stalking back down the corridor.
We didn’t linger long after confirming the details of the deal. Niamh was eager to shove us out the door so she could return to her work. But I was still sure I caught something in her gaze when she looked at him. Interest, maybe even longing. All of it, and from someone he could actually be with.
CHAPTER 26
The noise came from the ground floor.
I never imagined I’d be moving toward it instead of away, but I was rushing through the corridors of Mountheim Hall without thinking about it. It was a few hours before dinner.
I’d grown accustomed to loud noises. Heated discussions. Gwinifer or Reagan cursing. Battle mages calling out instructions to one another in the garden beneath my bedroom. The castle could be as loud as it could be silent.
But a growl, followed by a long, furious roar? That wasn’t common.
The sound had darkened the clouds in the sky, pulling them together like a storm ready to break. It made the water glasses and vases on my dresser shake.
For him to be this angry, something terrible must have happened.
I reached the foyer quickly and spotted Cerridwen, Reagan, Barracus, and two figures wearing the uniforms of battle mages,their insignia unmistakably embroidered upon the fur-lined cloaks.
Reagan stood with his back to me, hands threading through his hair as he gazed out the open door. The battle mages remained rigid, their faces etched with sternness, their eyes fixed unwaveringly on the second and third-in-command.
Cerridwen pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Barracus cast me a quick glance, his expression harsher than usual, before turning his attention back to the lord.
I stepped closer just as Reagan moved, his arms swinging and knocking vases to the floor. The ceramics shattered, shards scattering across the room.
“Fuck!” he yelled, dropping his head.
The whole room was dim, as if the light of day had vanished entirely. I stopped next to Crow.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
“A man was found dead in Eldritch,” Barracus replied. “Silas Hay.”
I felt the blood drain from my face, my stomach clenching. I remembered him and the way he’d addressed Reagan with kindness.
“How?” I asked, staring at the battle mages’ boots, coated in mud and moss.
“Wraith.”
Thunder boomed outside, and a flash of lightning briefly lit up the room. By the time the light faded, Reagan was halfway across the foyer, racing toward the door. He stalked outside, turning sharply to the right as another crack of thunder echoed through the air.
“Where is he going?” I asked, my voice edged with alarm.
Cerridwen lifted her gaze, shaking her head. She turned to the patrollers. “I’ll need the information—”
She stopped mid-sentence as I dashed toward the door.
