Chapter 11

Eleven

We watch each other in the half-darkness for several long beats. There is a stillness to Bran that is unsettling and hot as fuck. I may be able to control him with just the sound of my voice, but I think his vampire speed could beat the words on my lips.

And the thought of him clamping his hand over my mouth and having his way with me has my insides churning and my thighs aching to wrap around him.

His nostrils flare as he scents the air.

“Where’s Sam?” I ask.

The house is dark and silent.

“I sent her home.”

“Did she stake you?”

He ignores me and says, “You were a naughty mouse today.” His voice vibrates with annoyance.

“I want to say I’m surprised you found out so quickly, but I’m not.”

“There is nothing you can hide from me, Mouse.”

“I know. But don’t forget your promise.”

He narrows his eyes. “Which one?”

“The one where you said you’d let me make mistakes.”

There is a tsk of air between his teeth and he looks away. The light of one of the street posts outside spills into the room and across his face and pools over the broad line of his shoulder. His smell is everywhere even though it’s my house. Wherever Bran is, he overwhelms. In scent and presence and fucking power.

His chest rises with a deep breath and then he says, “Once upon a time, if someone were to disobey me, I would do very terrible things to them.”

I don’t dare move.

“The urge to bend you over this couch and smack your ass is hard to ignore.”

Heat surges to my pussy.

Is he trying to get me riled? Because it’s working.

He leans over and snatches me by the wrist and hauls me onto his lap. My thighs straddle him and his hands come to my waist, fingers just this side of bruising as he seats me on his groin. My hair spills forward as the air quickens in my throat.

I want to rock against him so fucking badly, but I’m not about to give in to him.

“Do you feel satisfied with yourself, little mouse?” His eyes glow amber in the shadow cast by my body, and it causes a shiver to race up my spine.

I wiggle a little and he increases the pressure on my hips, forcing me still.

“I wanted information,” I say, my pussy suddenly buzzing. “And I got some.”

“Did you?” His voice vibrates in his chest. He rocks his hips, pressing the bulge of his pants into the heat between my legs. “Tell me.”

“Why, when you’re clearly mad I went after it?”

He drives me down on him and pleasure builds in my clit.

I can’t help but moan. I try to grind into him, but he lifts me again, creating an aching distance between us.

His irises glint like twin flames. “Tell me, little mouse, and tell me now.”

Fuck . I may have the power to command with my voice, but I lack the authority that Bran can tap into so damn easily. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to give this up, this dance of obedience and defiance between us. The give and take of power.

We will find our new ground, and if I give in to the journey instead of stressing about the destination, maybe I’ll even enjoy it.

I suck in a deep breath when he finally sits me back down on him, teasing me more. “Arion wants my blood,” I answer.

“Why?”

“He thinks I can help unseal the gate to the fae realm.”

Bran goes still.

I refocus my eyes on him and find his gaze suddenly distant and his brow furrowed.

“What is it?”

His frown deepens. “The witches want to unseal the gate too.”

“The Renshaw witches?” He nods. “Why?”

“Apparently they were using Julian as a means to an end. Tabitha lost a brother to the fae realm when it was sealed off.”

“So she wants us to open the gate to rescue her brother? Why would we care enough to do that? We already won against them.”

Bran looks up at me. His jaw flexes. Not with anger, but anguish. “She linked the spell she used on my brother to the fae side. It cannot be undone without opening the gate.”

Numbness runs through my limbs, and the flame at my core immediately extinguishes.

“So Kelly…”

“Same spell,” he confirms. “Same solution.”

I climb off of him and sit on the cushion beside him. A car drives past on the street outside the front windows. One of the neighbors calls for their dog.

I want to scream.

If I were playing a game of chess, I have already lost, backed into a corner with no escape in sight.

I feel so fucking stupid.

And helpless.

Bran threads his fingers through mine and gives me a squeeze.

“If I can open that gate,” I start, “and more fae come through and they realize I exist…”

“I know,” Bran says.

“What if they want me dead?” My voice pitches with panic.

“They’ll have all of Duval House and the Pack to get through.”

I snort. “You really think the Alpha would put his pack on the line for me? There’s no way?—”

“Yes,” he interrupts. “I do think he would.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re his fated mate’s best friend. If Sam didn’t hate him enough already, she’d murder him if he let anything happen to you.”

Okay, he may have a point.

“Even if you’re right, will that be enough? What if the entire Autumn Court comes through the gate?”

His grip on me tightens, pulling my attention to him. “I am not afraid, Mouse.”

My chest heaves at the assurance in his words. He is so confident it almost takes the fear away.

Almost.

I run my teeth over my bottom lip and try to keep the anxiety at bay. “But I am, Bran.”

He winds his arm around me and pulls me into him and I deflate, resting my head against his shoulder. We haven’t made it to the point of our relationship where we’re so familiar with one another that cuddling comes naturally. We were built on annoyance first. Annoyance and frustration that turned into blazing heat.

I need his assurance now, I realize. Because his confidence in making it through this might just be the only thing holding me together.

“Let me tell you a secret, Mouse.”

I hold my breath, wondering what other things he might be keeping from me.

But it’s something better than all of that. It’s a truth straight from his heart.

“When Damien and I were mortal, he nearly died from a strain of flu. He had always protected me, my wise older brother. It made me feel invincible and I was terrified of losing him.” His shoulders rise with a deep breath. “I know I can tell you all day long that I will protect you. That I will do everything in my power to shield you from pain, both physical and mental, but ultimately your own strength will protect you even better than I can. And I know that it’s difficult to believe in your power when it’s still so new, but someday you’ll realize that with or without me, you can do extraordinary things.”

Tears bite at my eyes as I tilt my chin to look up at him. A wave of emotion stings at my sinuses and clogs in my throat. I don’t feel strong, even though I know I hold a great deal of power. I still can’t seem to believe it. Or believe in myself.

“I have trouble seeing it,” I admit to him.

“I know.” He kisses my forehead gently. “And until then, I will see it for you.”

We sit in the silence for several long minutes as the darkness descends outside the front windows. Bran doesn’t move. He keeps his arm firmly around me, what little body heat he radiates enveloping me.

I don’t want to get up, but I know I have to. There’s still so much to do.

“I had a thought earlier,” I say.

“Tell me.”

“I should probably officially move into Duval House.”

“I agree.”

There is a little bit of relief at hearing him say it. I mean, all of the evidence points to him wanting me near, but I’m still keyed up, looking for signs of his flight or dismay at being with a fae princess with the power to command with her voice who also happens to be a hot fucking mess.

“So I should pack my things and?—”

He shifts beside me, untangling us. “Gather the necessities. I’ll have someone pack the rest.”

“But—”

“You and I have better things to do, Mouse. We pay people for this.” He gets up and offers me his hand.

“Fine.” I take it and he lifts me easily off the couch then steers me toward the staircase. “Just the necessities then. Give me?—”

I falter on the first step, suddenly lightheaded, and the room sways.

“Mouse!”

Bran catches me as I tilt backward. He has me pressed against the nearest wall a second later, his hands firmly on my body to keep me upright. “What is it?” His eyes are dark, his brow furrowed as he examines me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…I’m kinda dizzy all of a sudden and?—”

A cell phone pings.

Bran’s teeth grind together as he pulls his phone from his pants pocket. But as soon as he reads the name on the screen, his expression softens. “It’s Bianca.”

He opens the screen and reads the text, his scowl deepening. “Damien is muttering in his sleep.”

That must be a good sign, right?

“What did he say?”

Bran turns the phone around and shows me the screen and I scan the words quickly.

He’s coming , the text reads.

The fae prince is coming.