Page 434 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

He jolts.

His arms move.

His back expands.

Frantic, Kade lifts his face.

Blood pours from his mouth, darker than blood should be, and his skin is shock white, and his hair is jet black and his eyes when he opens them… they’re red.

Kade laughs.

Lachlan’s eyes are his favourite colour.

‘Bodyguard.’ The word is dragged out through the tunnel of his throat, a treacherous climb, but necessary because Lachlan fixes those eyes onto him, sees him and then blinks unevenly, a smile curving sweetly around sharp, white teeth.

‘Cascade.’

All the world is bright. All the pain was worth it. All is good.

Kade laughs again, hot tears spilling as he crashes their mouths together, must kiss and kiss and kiss, cling and hold, he’s so… fucking beautiful and he didn’t leave… he stayed.

He came back.

‘You came back,’ he says into the harsh kiss that cuts his tongue and makes short work of what they both need. Arms around Lachlan’s neck, he climbs eagerly into his lap to wrap himself firmly like wings and walls. ‘You came back for me, didn’t you?’

Strong arms encircle his waist. ‘I did.’

‘I love you,’ Kade tells him, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’

He can make a prayer of it. A catechism. A curse.

Whatever is stronger.

Whatever holds.

‘I love you so much,’ Lachlan growls, voice cracking.

‘Where did you go?’

‘Away.’

‘Don’t do it again.’

‘I won’t. I’m yours. He told me I’m yours.’ Lachlan laughs, affectionate and tremulous. ‘He said no god dared come to take me… because I already belonged to you.’

Kade plunges fingers into sopping wet hair, smiling, lids at half-mast, dizzy with relief and love and something darker they share, something made long ago in grief and sadness and desperation.

Such a human quality, desperation.

He feels it now distilled in them both, crystallised and clear.

If love could forge possession, this would be it.

If love could make a knot… this is the shape of it.

Kade kisses him deeper, tongue tracing the teeth, and he can’t help but laugh again, so happy, so loving, so thrilled.

‘My monster.’