CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I almost got Thoran killed.

Twice.

It was my fault he jumped into a freezing lake, ignoring the jagged rocks to pull me out. He attacked a wolf to stop it from getting close to me.

A wolf.

God.

I covered my clammy face with trembling fingers.

He could have died. He could have died right there at my feet, and I would have had to watch him get mauled.

A sob escaped and I mashed it behind my sweaty palms. The hazy gray landscape outside the window shifted and swayed to the breeze. What normally made me feel calm only felt like a mockery because Thoran wouldn't have been out there if I hadn't run. If I hadn't been so stupid.

Chest heaving with sobs I fought to contain, I turned onto my side and rose up on my elbow to peer into his slumbering face.

I brushed his hair back. I let my fingers trace the lines of his face, his lips. I let my lips follow, littering his warm skin with tiny kisses.

"I love you," I told him quietly. "I love you so much I think I might die if you ever ... if you ever leave me."

I choked on the rest as the grief overtook me and I had to press my face into his chest. Over his heart. I listened to its steady patter and thanked God for every beat.

It felt like ages before I could close my eyes without seeing Thoran tackling a fully grown wolf. I couldn't breathe every time the scene replayed in my head. My breath lurched and I found myself bolting upright, lungs caught on a sob.

"Naya, sweetheart." He ran a palm over the curve of my damp spine where I sat in our bed, my arms around my knees, weeping softly. "Sweetheart, stop."

I shook my head even as I let him pull me into his lap. "I almost got you killed," I wept into his shoulder. "You almost died because I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid. I understand why you did it."

I shook my head. "If you keep me, you'll die."

"Hey." The fingers of his good hand captured my chin and forced my face up. "I'm not letting you go, Naya. Not for fucking anything. I will gladly die a million times before I spend a minute without you."

I cupped the side of his face. My thumb traced the raised skin as I fell into his dark gaze.

"I love you," I whispered, voice hoarse from crying. "So much."

The side of his mouth lifted. "Good, because you're stuck with me, Naya. Forever."

I kissed him, tasted the word on his lips. "Promise?"

His answer was the tilt of his head. The deepening of his mouth. It was pulling my slip off and taking my nipple into his mouth.

"Your arm," I protested.

He sucked one deep into his mouth. Then the other before lifting his head to say, "I'm fucking my wife."

And he did.

He pulled me down on his cock like that morning that felt like eons ago. My legs around him. Our bodies moved and glided. Neither rushing the other but simply falling together with soft, deep sighs against the other's mouth.

Even after, he stayed nestled in my warmth. His mouth stayed on me. Our hands roamed and touched, unhurried as our bodies cooled.

"Tell me something," I begged, much later as we lay wrapped in each other. His injured arm rested across my ribs.

His fingers combed lovingly through my hair. "Like what?"

I shrugged. "Tell me about the silver roses in the garden."

I felt him go still against me. His fingers stopped. I braced to get shot down.

"They were my mother's," he said after several heartbeats. "She loved the garden and even when my father told her to stay out, she would sneak in and follow the maze. She tried to clean it up, but no matter what she tried to plant, it would die. It's like the soil is poison. It destroys everything it touches ... except the roses. They bloomed and flourished, but only eight and they were silver. We keep it quiet because people would start trampling through here trying to figure it out or people thinking they're worth something would want them."

"Aren't they?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I haven't checked. It would raise too many questions. Plus, they were my mom's. She loved them. I don't want to lose them."

"I think someone lives in the maze," I murmured softly without thinking.

"What do you mean?"

I raised my head off his chest to peer down at him. "The day I went in, I saw a woman. It wasn't fog or my eyes playing tricks. I saw her dress. But..." I nibbled on my lip as I tried to explain. "Someone called my name. My name. Naya. No one knew it then, and it sounded like you. It was your voice. I know that sounds—"

"Stay out of the gardens, Naya." His voice was harsh and ... scared. "Stay ... I'm going to burn it to the ground."

His heart was racing under my palm.

"What? No. The roses—"

"I don't give a shit. I don't care." He touched my cheek. "I'll fucking torch whatever's in there. I won't let it hurt you."

I wanted to argue the possibility of a homeless person, or someone playing a trick, but they knew my name and they shouldn't have.

"Board it up," I said instead. "Stone doors closing all the entrances, especially that weird pond. It's dangerous."

Thoran blinked. "Pond?"

I described the marsh area I'd stepped into and nearly lost a shoe.

Even with only the moon as illumination, I didn't miss the grinding of his jaw. "You walked into the swamps?"

My stomach tightened. "I didn't know that was what it was."

His chest rose deeply, slowly with his inhale. "Bed. Now."

I didn't argue. I nuzzled my face into the hollow of his throat and shut my eyes.

I woke Thoran up with his beautiful cock in my mouth several hours later. He let me swallow him and I did with greedy gulps until he was limp across the mattress.

I swatted his hand away when he tried to pin me down.

"Stop it. You're supposed to be resting. That's what Dr. Roberts said." I started to climb off the bed. Only to get captured and dragged under his weight.

"Not so fast." He pinned my waist down with a single arm across my hips as he wiggled down between my thighs. "I want my breakfast, too."

Cyrus had to come get us when we were almost late for breakfast. We were just getting out of the shower when he knocked on the door. We dressed quickly and I helped reapply ointment and fresh gauze around Thoran's arm. I didn't fail to notice there were only five, neat stitches and each one was over a rose honoring the other women.

There was definitely something wrong with Cyrus's face when Thoran opened the door. His eyes were bright and a sly, little quirk fitted the corner of his lips.

"What's your problem?" Thoran muttered, guiding me out into the corridor.

Cyrus shrugged. "Was wondering if I was still fired for not wanting your babies."

Despite my best efforts, I had to cover my pinched lips when a laugh threatened to slip.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sexual harassment in the workplace," Cyrus said without batting an eye. "Getting fired for not sleeping with the boss. We need an HR department so I can file a formal complaint."

Thoran stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

I'd wondered if Thoran would remember the conversation when he was heavily medicated. Judging from his bemused expression, he didn't.

I filled him in as we walked down to the dining room and almost enjoyed his darkened cheeks and deepening scowl, until he seemed to realize something and glanced down at me. I waited for him to speak, but he merely grinned to himself and kept walking.

"What?" I asked as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

Cyrus immediately turned and continued on, leaving Thoran to back me into the stair railing with a warm hand firmly clasped across my collarbone. My pulse jumped under the firm hold. Warmth bubbled in the pit of my stomach as his face loomed over mine.

"Thoran?"

He flicked a tongue over my lips. They parted eagerly and his smirk darkened.

"I don't remember much about last night, but..." he slid his arm around my middle and bowed my body into his. Grinding his dick into the soft flesh of my belly. "I remember cumming in your pussy, Naya. I remember holding you down deep and filling you."

Hot arousal blazed through me, expelling a flood of liquid heat I only just realized was Thoran's. My eyes widened as it saturated my panties.

He must have seen it on my face because his smirk was predatory. "Is it trickling out?" he taunted with teeth nipping at the slant of my jaw. "Are your panties soaked?"

I nodded. "It's so much," I breathed.

Thoran groaned, an almost sound of pain. "I never had a breeding kink until you." He gave me no chance to ask what a breeding kink was when he kissed me violently and viciously. The hand at my throat tightened until my lips tingled and my head swam from loss of air. Just as unexpectedly, he jerked back. "Breakfast before I forget we're in the middle of the foyer and replenish your cunt."

Oliver was absent from the table, much to my disappointment. Without him, Vance only wanted to talk about work, and I normally blocked out the chatter until he mentioned a name that brought me back to the conversation.

"Ripken?" I blurted without thinking.

The two stopped their talk to glance at me.

"Do you know him?" Thoran asked.

I had to dig deep to pull up the conversation I'd overheard. It seemed so long ago.

"I think my father does." I watched my fork chase a piece of sausage across my plate. "He was the one Father was telling about you and Jarrett."

I glanced up in time to catch the glance Thoran shared with Vance.

"What is this?" Vance asked and I realized Thoran hadn't told him. "How does Miss ... Mrs. Lacroix's father know Brixton?"

Thoran looked to me, asking silently if he could repeat my connection with Jarrett. He didn't have to. I hadn't expected him to keep the secret.

At my nod, he told Vance about my connection with the Brixton family. That was all he knew, and I realized I would have questions to answer once he finished.

I was right when Vance immediately pivoted harsh, dark eyes in my direction. The accusation was clear. I could almost hear him thinking he'd been right not to trust me.

"You're engaged to Jarrett Brixton? Were," he corrected when Thoran shot him a look. "You didn't think that was mildly important...?" He cut himself off when Thoran sat back in his chair and set his cutlery down with a calm but a deadly air that sent a chill wafting through the room. Vance cleared his throat. "Why don't you start from the top? The more I know, the more I can help."

I wasn't sure what he thought he could help with but one encouraging nod from Thoran and I agreed. There wasn't much else I could tell them. Nevertheless, I followed them to the office after breakfast with Thoran's hand in mine.

Vance hurried to the desk and rummaged while Thoran sat me on the sofa and took the spot next to me.

"Vance is right. We do need to know what we're dealing with, especially if Jarrett somehow knows Ripken."

"Who is he?" I asked.

"A thug. A messy one." Vance hurried to the armrest and sat with a pad and pen. They were placed on the coffee table. "Mainly he rigs games. He used to oversee one of Mr. Lacroix's gaming halls until he was caught skimming. He was charging people double on their bill and pocketing the other half. He was let go ... with some warning, but he had other ideas."

"He tried to attack me when I went to collect the money he owed," Thoran finished tightly. "We were ... friends. I had my guard down."

Horror tightened in my chest as I realized what he was saying.

"He gave you those scars?"

Thoran nodded. "He thought if he killed me, he wouldn't have to pay back the money. I didn't think he would be so stupid. We were ... friends. I trusted him."

I touched his face, smoothing my thumb over the faint line over his lip. "I'm sorry."

He turned his head and kissed my palm.

I wanted to ask how that bastard was still alive. I'd seen what he'd done. I'd seen the scars over Thoran's heart. I could have lost him.

"Why isn't he dead?" I demanded.

The two exchanged glances.

"With his connections, it would start a messy war. He didn't tell anyone else what happened. No one, except Vance, Oliver, and Cyrus ... and you, know who was responsible. We've kept it quiet."

I considered his words carefully, analyzing all he was telling me.

I wanted Ripken dead.

I wanted to set his home on fire with him in it.

"Easy, goddess," Thoran teased, pinching my chin between his fingers. His own lips curled upwards in amusement. "Sheath the claws. It's been years and I will eventually get him, but not yet."

I didn't understand what we were waiting for, but Thoran seemed like he knew what he was doing so I pressed my lips together and turned to face Vance. My body was drawn back to nestle comfortably into Thoran's chest while Vance prepared.

"Start from the beginning," he said, placing the pen over the pad while his free hand straightened his glasses. "How did you meet Brixton?"

My mind immediately went to the afternoon Mother came storming into my room. She'd been in a world of panic, rushing around, ripping apart my closet. Between her shrieks that nothing I owned was adequate, I learned Father had invited a very important guest to the house for dinner. That wasn't unusual, except Mother was deranged.

"I was fourteen," I said softly, pressing my nails into my palms. Not hard. Just enough to take the edge off. "He and Father were introduced by a mutual friend."

"What does your father do?" Vance asked.

"He's the CEO of Senica Investments. Jarrett was in the market for a new investment manager. I think."

If that was how it started, it wasn't how it ended. Somehow, instead of portfolios, I was bartered.

"Go on," Vance prompted.

I pressed a little harder.

"He took a liking to me," I whispered softly, embarrassed at having to admit that I somehow attracted the desires of a man well into his forties.

Vance's pen paused in its scribbling but continued quickly.

"He paid my parents quite a bit ... a lot, actually. A lot of money to have me ... kept."

There was silence as even Vance raised his head to peer at me over the plastic rims of his glasses.

"What do you mean kept?" Thoran asked just over my shoulder.

I couldn't look at him. So humiliated to have to explain.

"He didn't want anyone else to have me," I explained slowly. "Originally, my parents were going to let him take me, for a fee, of course, but Malcolm wouldn't let them. He was furious. I've never seen him so angry. He threatened to run away from home if they let Jarrett take me." I chuckled a little softly. A little bitterly. I dug deeper into flesh and sweat. "Mother was ... Mother was so upset. He's Father's only heir and without him..." I shrugged. "It didn't matter anyway, because Jarrett was in the process of a divorce and couldn't have a child bride come up in court while he fought his last wife. It was messy, but he continued to pay my parents to keep me for him until he was done. They did."

There was silence in the room.

Blood smeared on my palm.

A hot, sticky heat spread across the back of my neck and behind my eyes.

But I didn't look up.

"I was on my way to meet him when Malcolm ... Malcolm freed me. He'd been planning it for years, apparently. He never said. Not once. He just ... he wanted..."

"Stop." Thoran captured the hand closest to him and brought the back to his lips.

The stiff fingers were pried open. A tissue was snatched off the coffee table and used to gently clean the crimson stain.

I swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Vance murmured in the gentlest tone I'd heard from him. "Your parents, however, and Brixton. That overbearing, ridiculous man. I would personally like a few words with all of them."

I tried to offer him a smile, but my cheeks felt weighed down, refusing the gesture.

"How did you hear about Ripken?" Vance asked.

"Father was on the phone with..." I bunched my brows and dug deep to recall if he'd ever used a name. "Gordy? I think? I think he owed Ripken money."

Vance visibly winced. "I certainly hope not..." He broke off and frowned. "Actually, I hope he does. Ripken will..." he caught my eye and quickly cleared his throat. "Ripken will handle him quite nicely."

I considered that for a long moment. I had no love for my parents. I didn't even like them, but did I want them harmed?

I wasn't sure.

"Father was telling Gordy to tell Ripken that Thoran and Jarrett were best friends and starting a business together and he would be getting the last of his payments for me from Jarrett in a few hours."

"Well, given that Jarrett didn't get you, and he most likely did not pay your father that money, I expect there are a lot of unhappy people out there right now."

It had been over a month.

"How did you not hear about me?" I asked, voicing my question out loud and facing Thoran for the first time. "You had an invitation to the wedding on your desk."

Thoran blinked. His golden eyes lifted to his desk as if trying to recall. "I remember something, but I wasn't going to go. I didn't know the guy. Why would I go to his wedding? I don't even know what happened to the thing."

Heat prickled in my cheeks. "I put it in the trash."

He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. "I was going to put it there anyway."

"I heard some noise about Brixton's wedding getting postponed due to ... something." Vance swept his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with a hooked knuckle. "I think due to..." Huffing, he fished out his phone and swiped the screen on. The glasses returned over his eyes, and he squinted at his screen as he pulled up the information. "Jarrett Brixton postpones wedding due to the bride's change of heart on the venue. Further information will be disclosed once a new location is selected." He shrugged and scanned over the article again. "There isn't a mention of you anywhere on here and I would never have suspected that you would be the bride."

I wasn't surprised that Jarrett would make up a story to explain my absence to his friends and colleagues but blaming me for the delay was insulting. But technically, I supposed he wasn't wrong.

"Well, at least you know for sure I'm not a spy," I only partially teased.

Under his dark complexion, Vance flushed slightly. "It's my job to be suspicious and diligent. I do apologize if I overstepped in my duties."

Despite the heavy fog of exhaustion tipping my body deeper against Thoran, I chuckled slightly. "You're a kitten compared to Mr. Yorick. He's Father's ... man, like you are to Thoran."

Vance pursed his lips. "I prefer advisor." He set his pen down on the pad and straightened in his chair. "I think I'm going to do some more digging on your father. The fact that Brixton and Ripken have mysteriously found this odd bridge connecting them makes me suspicious. I dislike that Brixton made it a mission to come to the manor when the instructions for the delivery were very clear." He checked his watch. "Burkard hasn't returned with any of the information I requested, but I did tell him to be thorough and that takes time." He sighed and pushed to his feet. "I may not be here for supper. I want to dive right into this and it's going to require my full attention. If you see Oliver, let him know I did look into that shipment invoice he requested." He fished into the front pocket of his blazer and drew out a folded piece of paper and passed it to Thoran. "There's nothing odd about it."

Thoran parted the paper and peered over the carbon copy of a transfer receipt. "What is this? Why is Oliver needing to see old shipping invoices?"

Vance shook his head as he gathered up his papers. "He only said he was double-checking orders."

Not saying anything else, Vance left us and Thoran tucked the invoice into his pocket before turning to face me.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I feel tired, but I'm glad you know everything."

Thoran shook his head slightly. "I don't think I do, but baby steps."

It was on the tip of my tongue to assure him there was nothing else, but his phone took that moment to jingle in his pocket.

"Get it," I pressed when he only brought my knuckles to his lips.

He shook his head. "I would rather take a nap with my wife."

It was three in the morning when Cyrus slammed his fist into the door, jerking Thoran from my arms.

"Stay here," he said, throwing back the covers and grabbing for his trousers just as Cyrus barged in.

I barely had time to gather the sheets to my chest, but his eyes sought and locked only on Thoran's.

"There are men with guns trying to get in," he said, paused, then added, "Ak-47."

"Brixton." Thoran dressed hurriedly. "How many men?"

"Unclear. There are about ten vehicles headed our way."

I stiffened. "Jarrett's here?"

Thoran met my gaze unwavering. "Not for long. Don't leave this room. Cyrus will stay with you."

"No!" Sheets held to my chest, I scrambled up onto my knees. "I'll stay here but you are taking Cyrus. Don't argue with me."

He muttered a curse before he marched back and grabbed the back of my head. His mouth was unyielding and possessive closing over mine.

"I love you," he said. "I'll be back."

I touched his face. "You better."

With a final kiss, he stormed past Cyrus and disappeared around the corner.

"Cyrus," I called before the other man could follow. I met his gaze across the dimly lit room. "Bring him back to me."

He inclined his head and shut the door.

I grabbed Thoran's discarded shirt and slipped it on before rushing to the door and hurrying to my closet room, regretting not letting Thoran build a door between the two rooms. But there was no time to think about that when I knew I needed to get dressed. I needed to be ready in case Thoran needed me. I couldn't just sit naked in bed while Jarrett tried to come into my home.

I dressed hurriedly in black tights and a loose, black sweater. I tied my hair back and added a pair of flats.

It wasn't fighting attire, but it was comfortable and easy to run in if needed.

Feeling a little less off balance, I hurried to return to Thoran's room just as the first shot rang out. There was a deafening crash of glass and metal and more rapid pops that made my skin feel clammy. My stomach cold. My heart seized with terror as I thought of Thoran out there with Jarrett and his goons.

There wasn't a doubt in me that Thoran would win. This was his house and unlike Thoran, Jarrett wasn't a killer. At the end of the day, Jarrett was a spoiled rich kid who thought he could have anything he wanted with money he didn't deserve. Family money. Family wealth. Without his name, he had nothing.

Whereas Thoran lived in this dark world. He was merciless, cold, ruthless, as much as he was kind and gentle.

Someone screamed.

I heard the wail roll through the corridor. It almost sounded like it was coming from just downstairs, not the front.

The cold tongue of fear skated up my spine. I knew there was no way Jarrett could have gotten past Thoran into the house.

Something slammed behind me and I cried out. I nearly slipped on my flats spinning to face the windows in the murky dusk.

The middle panel swung in on silent hinges. Undone from the lock, it framed the fog and wilderness outside and hung open as if in invitation.

"Abigail?" I whispered, though I didn't understand why she would want me at the window, nor did I move.

Another scream.

Definitely from somewhere in the house. The window was forgotten as I grabbed the knob and hurried out into the corridor. My feet paused on the carpet as I tried to decide if I should check in case someone needed help or run back to Thoran's room like I was told.

I pivoted towards the stairs.

This was my home. Thoran was my husband. If Jarrett thought he was going to just storm in, destroy my life again, and have me ... he had another thing coming. I wasn't going to hide. I wasn't Naya Blackwell anymore and I belonged next to my husband protecting our home.

Furious, I started forward when a familiar shadow lunged up the stairs and straight into my path. I nearly screamed until I recognized the face.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were still gone." I hurried forward. "There are men—"

He nodded, eyes bright with fear. "They've gotten inside. Thoran wants me to take you somewhere safe."

My chest thundered as I darted a glance past him. "Is Thoran—?"

He nodded. "He's with Cyrus. They're pushing back. He's fine. Come on."

I thought of Thoran telling me to stay in the bedroom, but things must have gotten out of hand.

"I want to help," I tell him. "I don't want to leave him alone—"

"He can handle this, but he'll get distracted if you're here."

He was right. What did I know about fighting anyway? I would just get in the way. This way at least Thoran wouldn't be worried about me.

"Okay," I said.

I didn't hesitate as I followed him deeper into the house.