Page 410 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘You’re just saying that because you hate him.’

‘I’m saying it because it’s true, and I don’t hate him. I loathe him. There’s a very distinct difference.’

‘If you knew him the way I do—’

‘Baby,’ Lachlan whispers, nuzzling his cheek. ‘This world is only in colour because of you, do you realise that? You are all I care about.’

Kade’s arm winds around his neck.

‘Me?’

‘Just you.’

‘That’s kinda fucked up, Bodyguard.’

‘You’re all I have left.’

‘You have Vasily and Roman. Blaire and Lee are helping.’

‘They’re not you.’

‘I’m not…’ Kade trails off, his mouth gone dry.

It’s that fucking look.

The one no one else on earth could ever pull off.

The way no single other person in existence could ever see him all the way to the marrow of his bones, the dark of his soul, the deep rose red of his heart. Only Lachlan Tanner sees him like this.

Hands braced on either side of his head against the wall, Lachlan seizes a kiss, hungry and hard, clever tongue curling against Kade’s own as he traps him and keeps him and kisses him and loves him.

Kade’s hand sits over the tattoo.

He wishes he could burn it off.

Brand him anew.

‘You are everything. My world. My reason. My dawn.’

‘Please,’ Kade chokes out, pulling him closer, needing him closer, needing to shed skin and bone so they can melt and meld like drops of water. Soul to soul. Then they’ll never be apart.

‘Without you,’ Lachlan swears, lips against the skin of his jaw, ‘there is no light, no life, no sky and no reason.’

‘Tell me the name of a place we’ll go,’ Kade begs.

Lachlan marks his neck.

Kade welcomes it, contains it, owns it. His fingers knot greedily in Lachlan’s dark brown hair, pulling it free from the tie. He loves that it’s mess and chaos that bind them.

Lachlan whispers the name of a place.

‘Have I ever been there?’

‘No.’

‘Then we’ll go together.’

‘You and me.’