31. Lyssa

Later in the night,the Elysium ballroom—a new addition during the rebuild, and one that we actually really needed, because we have a lot of parties these days—hums with excitement. Syndicate members mill about, drinking, sharing food and gossip.

And Scarlett is right there among them, looking so happy to be included, to be accepted, that I could just about cry, if I was the crying kind. But I'm not, so I just smile to myself and wander the outskirts of the crowd, the wolf prowling.

But I'm not the only lone figure. Hadria is standing near the grand fireplace, alone. Aurora is dancing with Mario and encouraging some of the new recruits to join in. Hadria is watching with affection. Even with her arm in that sling, she exudes authority. Our eyes meet, and I feel a familiar pull, followed by the new slight chill between us.

It's time to clear the air.

I weave my way over, nodding at familiar faces. Ricky raises his glass in a silent toast. Mrs. Graves gives me a warm smile, though I can see the worry lines etched deeper around her eyes. Sarah's return has taken its toll.

Just wait until Hadria talks to her about Sarah joining the Syndicate.

"I'm still pissed at you," I say as I sidle up to Hadria, keeping my voice low. "For that gauntlet shit."

She turns, one eyebrow arched. For a moment, I see a flicker of something—regret?—in her steel-colored eyes. "Blame Aurora if you're going to blame anyone," she says, but her tone carries the barest hint of apology, which from Hadria is practically groveling. "And you can blame her for the wedding outfit, too."

"Wedding outfit?" I stare blankly at her.

"You were obviously never going to make a decision on that. So she made one for you. As for the plus-one…" She glances over to Scarlett. "That seems to have changed, too."

I give a half-smile and a nod, and then we stand in silence, watching the party unfold. The tension between us is still there, an invisible barrier neither of us knows how to breach.

"Are we okay?" The words come out more vulnerable than I intended.

Hadria is quiet for a long moment, her gaze fixed on Aurora. "We will be," she says finally. She turns to face me, her expression softening slightly. "The Syndicate survives. That's what matters. You and me… We'll also find our way back to each other, Lyssa. We have to. We're family. And the Syndicate rests on both of us."

I feel something loosen in my chest. It's a start. A good start. "Does this mean you'll take my advice more often?" I ask, unable to resist needling her a bit.

"Maybe," she replies with a tiny smile. But the lightness doesn't last. "Speaking of advice," she says, lowering her voice further, "I could use some. About Sarah Graves."

"What about her?"

Hadria sighs, and it's a rare display of uncertainty from her. "Well, you heard her. She wants to join the Syndicate, and I said I'd speak to everyone about it. Now, there's no denying her skills as a fighter. But her mental state…" She trails off, shaking her head.

"You're worried she's not stable enough," I finish for her.

"Exactly. I believe her when she says she hates Grandmother now. But is she really ready for this life? Again? She's…unpredictable."

I nod, mulling it over. The idea of Sarah—the woman who killed Scarlett's brother, tried to kill Scarlett herself, and who hated me with such venom—becoming one of us…

But I force myself to think rationally. She's here, and she's not going anywhere, because Mrs. G would never allow it. So if she stays, hell, she might as well contribute.

"She needs deprogramming," I say slowly. "Lots of it. And it's concerning how eager she is to swear loyalty to the next powerful woman who comes along." I pause, an idea forming. "What if…what if we got her some help?"

Hadria looks at me sharply. "Help?"

"Johnny de Luca. He offered help on his daughter's behalf. Said she had experience helping trafficked women—including psychs who understand, you know, the business."

Hadria thinks about that for a moment. "I don't think Sarah would agree to it."

"Yeah she would. If it was a condition of her joining the next intake of recruits."

"Recruits? With her skills? She'd run circles around the others."

"Physically, yes," I say, warming to the concept. "But training isn't just about learning to fight, Hades. Sarah can learn our ways from the ground up—under my supervision. And…" I hesitate, then plunge ahead. "Scarlett could be an example for her. Someone who's been where she is, and found a new path."

Hadria's eyes widen slightly. "That's…actually excellent advice," she says, sounding genuinely impressed.

"I do have my moments."

Hadria chuckles, the sound warming me. "You do, Wolf. You do. Whether Mrs. Graves will be so easily won over remains to be seen. But that can wait for another day. Go off and play, now. I want to ask Aurora to dance."

She does, too, even with the arm in a sling. I find my way over to Scarlett, and put an arm around her, tugging her close. "How's my girl?" I murmur in her ear.

Her eyes are bright and her cheeks flushed with happiness, and she's rarely looked more lovely. Maybe that time I got her off watching herself in the mirror at the dress shop. Maybe.

"Good," she chirps.

"I thought you looked awful tired," I counter. "Like maybe…it was time to leave the party?"

She's about to protest when she reads the significant shift of my eyebrows, and I run my hand down to her hip.

"Let's get out of here," she says with a grin. "That is, if—if Hades?—"

"Hades is busy with her little sunbeam. Time for us wolves to slink off together."

My bedroom is still a strange place to me, partly because it's new—and newly decorated—and partly because I've barely even been here since we moved back to Elysium. I've been at the barn, or in motels, or I took a quick nap in the training room downstairs, too tired to make it up here.

But now that Scarlett's here, I have a whole new appreciation for it. It feels like…home.

"You want a shower?" I ask, shutting the door and leaning against it as Scarlett sits down in the corner and starts unlacing her boots.

"I think I'd like to get the stink of terror off of me, yeah," she says with a sigh, then pauses to look up at me. "I really thought they were going to kill me."

"So did I." I lock the door. "But that's all behind us now. Time to look to the future."

"Once we kill Grandmother," she says grimly.

This isn't the mood I want her in at all. "Hurry up with those clothes," I tell her, tearing off mine. "We can shower together. For old time's sake. Just promise you won't stab me or something."

Her laughter follows me into the bathroom, where I turn on the shower, adjusting the water temperature to hot and steamy. But she pauses in the doorway when she finally heads in, her eyes wistful as she looks at me. I'm already under the water, but I left the door open for her—the door of this huge shower that was definitely made for more than one person.

"Come on," I say impatiently. "It's chilly with the door open."

"Looks like," she says with a grin, letting her eyes ostentatiously drift to my tight nipples. "I'm not sure if I'll ever get tired of seeing you naked."

She finally heads over and as soon as she's in with me—and the door is closed—I pull her close to my wet body, my lips finding hers in a deep, possessive kiss. Scarlett moans into the kiss, her fingers tangling in my soaked hair as she clings to me. If the events of the evening rattled her, she doesn't show it now. No, now she's on fire, pressing harder into me as our kisses deepen to urgent, demanding.

My hands skim down to her ass, that gorgeous fucking piece of her that makes me want to dive face-first into it every time I see it. But Scarlett has her own ideas, showing me that she's the one in control as she pushes me back against the tile and pulls my leg up so I can wind it around her waist. She cups me between the legs, letting the water fill up her palm before spreading my lips open and allowing it to play over my clit in a warm, trickling caress.

"You're mine," she tells me. "As much as I'm yours."

"Bossy," I manage, playing with those gorgeous, full breasts of hers as she circles a thumb around my clit. "But if this is your idea of owning me, keep it coming."

She chuckles low and naughty, reaching over to grab the soap. "Let's get clean before we get dirty. Besides, we have that big, beautiful bed to bang in."

I was getting a little disappointed until she pointed that out, but now I perk up. "We can break it in."

We wash each other, slow and sensual. She knows just where to touch me, how to make my knees weak with desire. Before long, we're just about humping each other.

"Bedroom," I manage to gasp between kisses. "I want you in our bed."

"Our bed," she repeats with delight. She turns off the water and we dry down fast. Then she takes my hand and leads me through to the bedroom, and onto the huge king-size bed that dominates the room. It's made up with silky sheets and soft pillows, and it's inviting enough to make me want to sleep for a week straight.

But I plan to blow Scarlett's mind—and body—before we sleep.

We tumble onto the bed, still damp, and I push myself around, grinning at Scarlett's little, "Oh!" when she realizes what I'm doing. "Come here," I say, pulling her close into a side-on sixty-nine.

Scarlett laughs, but it's cut off in delighted moans as I dive into her sweetness, seeking out her clit with my tongue. The taste of her, the sound of her moans as I tease and lick, the warm, smooth sensation of her thighs around me—it's fucking heavenly. And she seems to think the same, judging by the gasps and hums she's making into my pussy as she eats me out just as eagerly. Her tongue flattens against my clit, letting me rub into her in the exact rhythm I want and need. I reach down to find one of those soft, warm tits, and grab a handful of it, making her moan, her tongue almost vibrating against my clit.

When I tug and twist at her nipple, she moans again and I can't help but echo it, a deep, throaty noise that makes Scarlett grow bolder. She sucks my clit between her lips, grabs my ass hard and turns us, so that soon enough I'm riding her face, meeting each lick and suck with a roll of my hips, trying real hard to remember to give her kitty some attention, too. But as my orgasm starts to build, she reaches under to grab my tits, kneading and squeezing and twisting at my nipples in that perfect pain-pleasure sensation that I fucking love when I'm this keyed up. "Oh fuck, baby, yeah, just like that," I pant, trying not to smother her completely.

But Scarlett's only encouraging me, eating me faster as I dip down and slide my tongue through her folds. She tastes so good, I can't help diving right back between her velvet thighs, pulling her pussy lips open so I can drink her down. Her hot tongue is still rubbing against my clit in that way she knows I love, and I can't concentrate on much else when Scarlett decides it's time for me to come. Her fingers find their way down my ass crack, massaging my asshole and pressing against all those wonderful little nerve endings until I light up like the Fourth of July. I moan loudly into her pussy, my hips jerking uncontrollably as she works me into a long, aching orgasm that doesn't seem to stop so much as recede slowly like the tide on a beach.

And as the ripples keep flowing over me, I nuzzle into her dripping center and get back to work, curling my tongue around her clit and giving it a gentle suck, lazily circling it until she's squirming beneath me, and I have to lift my hips up because I want to hear exactly what's coming out of her mouth.

"Oh, Lyssa, oh fuck," she's gasping, and I don't stop, won't stop this time, not until she comes for me. I flick my tongue fast over her clit and slide two fingers to her syrupy, tight heat, curling them to hit that one spot that makes her scream. And that's exactly what she does, letting out a high-pitched wail as she shudders and shakes beneath me, her orgasm rocketing through her.

I fall to the side and we lie there, panting, my fingers still inside her. I don't want to take them out, need this place of joining, this proof that she's mine.

Always mine, forever more. Then Scarlett lifts herself up on her arms and looks down at me. "Holy shit," she pants. "That was...intense."

"I know, right?" I grin up at her.

But her attention has been diverted, because she's frowning at something in the corner. "What's that?" she asks.

I turn my head to see a long, black bag on a clothes hanger, hung up on the curtain rod. I stare at it, as puzzled as Scarlett is for a moment, until it occurs to me, and I groan. "I bet it's the best bitch outfit Suzy picked for me."

"The what?"

"I'm best b—uh, woman, at the wedding. And Suzy kept bugging me about what I was wearing, who I was bringing…she took matters into her own hands and I guess that's one result." I grin at Scarlett. "And you're the other." I pull my fingers out of her, despite her whimper of protest, and crawl back up to flop against the pillows. "God, I'll deal with whatever's hiding in that bag later. Suzy has decent taste, at least, if a little…feminine."

Scarlett grins and rolls into me, but then looks puzzled. "Why does everyone call her Suzy? It's not just you. I heard Mario and some of the others calling her that tonight, too."

I laugh. "Long story, Scar. I'm afraid you've got a lot to learn about Syndicate biz."

"Long as you're my teacher, I'm happy," she says, and she really does look happy…and still horny.

"Well, then, let's get on with another lesson," I tell her, and run my hand down her body.