Chapter 27

Stella

I"d like to say I"ve stayed in worse places… but I would be lying. It might have been nice a hundred years ago. Though I was also pretty sure it hadn"t been properly cleaned in all that time.

The exterior of the hotel loomed before me. And when I say loomed, I was a bit worried it might topple down on top of me like an old man leaning hard on his cane. The hotel"s once-grand fa?ade was now weathered and worn. It bore the scars of neglect and decay. The neon sign flickered intermittently, casting an eerie glow over the cracked pavement below. The broken windows and peeling paint were more evidence of years of neglect than disrepair.

Stepping into the lobby, we were greeted by a wave of musty air that assaulted my senses. The dim lighting did little to dispel the gloom that permeated every corner of the space. There were plenty of wall sconces and chandeliers. It looked like the lights were on actual electricity and not magic. Human-made electricity was an old-fashioned oddity in short supply.

The carpet had seen better days -likely one hundred years ago when it had been installed. It was worn and frayed in places, the once-vibrant colors faded to a dull, mottled gray. It had a musty, lingering scent that seemed to have seeped into every fiber of the worn carpet beneath my feet. The unpleasant aroma clung to the back of my throat.

It was clear that this was not a place accustomed to luxury or comfort. But as long as we had a roof over our heads and a bed to sleep in, I was willing to give it a try. Turning to Oz, I offered him a small smile.

"Well, it"s not exactly the Ritz, but I suppose it"ll have to do for now."

Famous last words. There was a part of me that would rather go back outside and search for a Ritz, or even a Holiday Inn Express. Bugs skittered under our feet as we walked down the hall. A heavy realization settled over me like a suffocating blanket. Gone were the days of luxury and comfort I'd once taken for granted. Instead, we found ourselves in a small, dismal space, barely deserving of the title room.

The faint sound of a dripping faucet echoed through the room, accompanied by the muffled voices of other guests drifting through the thin walls. I refused to let any of this dampen my spirits. If anything, it only strengthened my resolve.

I was alive. I was away from the men who had used me for years. I was with my fated mate. And he"d claimed me.

In the dim light of our modest accommodations, I saw an opportunity, a chance to deepen our connection even further. Despite the room"s shortcomings, it had everything we needed—most importantly, a bed. That wasn"t all it had.

"We can"t stay here," Oz said, backing up into the hall as he tried to shut the door to the room.

Oz had gone ahead of me, so he was blocking most of my view inside the room. All I could see was the bed.

"Oz, I"m tired. Do you really want to go back out there? At night. In the dark."

I was starting to learn my man"s expressions. He wore a combination of a frown and furrowed brow. There were degrees to the downset turn of his lips and the depth of the lines in his brow. Right now, they were at the highest setting on each.

"I trust that you"ll keep me safe," I said, putting my hand on his chest.

His heart was racing. That didn"t make sense, since we were inside and out of harm"s way. Unless there was someone in the room.

I was tall, but Oz had a few inches on me. I came up to his chin, which meant I could peer past his shoulder. And that"s when I saw it.

"Oh," I managed.

Oz"s shoulders didn"t so much as relax as they heaved out a sigh of weariness. Or was that wariness? I always got the two confused. With his guard down, I slipped past him.

There was a musty smell in this room, too. Instead of carpet, there were rugs on the floor. Made sense so that management could change those out more frequently. The walls were painted a faded shade of off-white, with patches of peeling paint revealing the years of neglect. But there wasn"t much of the wall visible. Framed artwork dominated most of the area.

Boobs were on display in all of the artwork. Lots and lots of boobs. And sliced peaches that were de-seeded. In the place of the seeds were dripping wet purple eggplants. And then more boobs. I was surprised there were no penises. At least not in the paintings.

There were penises on a shelf beside the bed. Pink penises. Black penises. A purple one that had a glowing attachment. Because of the subtle hum of the vibrations, I knew these were not battery operated with ancient electrical technology.

"So that"s where the magic happens."

Oz did not laugh at my joke. Tori and Niamh would have. I made a mental note to repeat it to them once we got to Portland and I could send them a message. It was going to be a long text.

I was no longer so disappointed in our accommodations. I saw that it had everything I needed to allow my mate to claim my body. Including the sex swing hanging from the closet door.

Oh, and I'd missed the BDSM paraphernalia inside the closet. Masks and handcuffs. Whips and chains. And… a lot of things I could not identify. I rubbed my hands together, thinking of all the fun that we were about to have.

Unfortunately, my intended boy toy looked like he was going to be sick. His brows were still furrowed. His nostrils flared like he smelled something bad. But instead of a frown, his lips were pursed. He was not a man aroused.

He did not want to be in this room. With sex toys. And me.

"This place is not befitting a goddess," he managed to say in a hoarse whisper.

I took a deep breath, pushed back my shoulders, and lifted my head. "I need a bath."

His lips unpursed and turned upside down into a frown. Good; a frown I could deal with.

"I"m dirty from running through the swamp and fighting pirates."

Those words deepened his frown even more. I made a mental note: his thinking back to me being in danger drew him closer to me.

"I think I"m bruised, too."

"Bruised? Where? Let me see."

I crossed the threshold of the bathroom. Inside the space, I was met with the scent of dampness and mildew. The fixtures were worn and aged. Opposite the sink, tucked into a recessed alcove, sat the sunken bathtub. It was a surprising haven of cleanliness amidst the room"s decay. Made of faded porcelain, the tub offered a spacious sanctuary. Its surface was smooth and inviting despite its age. It was the cleanest piece of furniture in the entire room, likely because of its constant access to water.

I heard Oz"s footsteps approaching rapidly, the concern evident in the quickness of his stride. He came up behind me, his presence making the space feel smaller, more intimate.

"The bruise? Where?"

I turned to face him, seeing the worry etched in his features. "It"s probably nothing serious," I reassured him.

The concern in his eyes didn"t wane. "Show me, Stella."

His proximity, the intensity of his gaze, and the protective care in his touch filled me with a mixture of reassurance and longing. I let him check for any bruises. I hadn"t lied. There were plenty. He would have to get my clothes off in order to find all of them.

As I popped the first button of my shirt open, I could see the panther in his eyes. He blinked, and the man was back.

I popped the next button and watched his Adam"s apple bob. It was the panther that flashed his teeth at me. It was the panther that growled low, making me press my thighs together. And then he blinked again, and the man was back in control.

"You are bruised."

"I am?" I"d forgotten my whole ruse. Looking down, I saw the trail of red and slight purple on my bare arms.

Oz ran a finger over my skin. "I want to dive into the water, find each of those pirates, and kill them again."

"I"d rather you soak with me in the tub."

He shook his head and started to retreat.

"You"re bruised, too."

"I"m fine. I"ll keep watch while you bathe."

"You"re not fine. You"re more bruised than I am. It"s my job to look after you, too, as your mate."

That Adam"s apple bobbed up and down like it was caught in a barrel at a kid"s birthday party. He did that every time I referred to myself as his fated mate.

I knew he wanted me. I didn"t understand why he kept holding himself back. When I put my hand to the hem of his shirt and gave a tug, he didn"t stop me. So I pulled the tails up and out. When I got to his torso, I stopped. And gasped.