Where had an hour of my night gone?

Chapter Fifteen

I was afraid to go into my own apartment.

In the small foyer between the street-level door and my front entrance, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and twisted my keys around on their little metal hoop. Losing an hour of my night without explanation had made me uneasy. Standing outside my door knowing an angry werewolf was inside wanting to talk was the icing on the cake.

Now would be a brilliant time for Sig to call and tell me he needed me on some pressing council business.

Anytime now.

I pulled out my phone and checked the screen.

The front door jerked open, and Desmond stood inside the frame. He leaned against one side, looking from me to the phone.

“How long were you planning to stand out here? I’ve been listening to you breathe for the last ten minutes.”

“I…” I didn’t have an answer for him.

He stepped out of the doorway and crossed the room to sit on the loveseat. I tried not to take it as a positive sign he’d chosen to sit there instead of on the armchair. I shucked off my Converses and sat next to him. Just a normal, average couple sitting down in front of the TV after a long night. Only our TV was off, and we were so far removed from normal it wasn’t even funny.

“Did you talk to Lucas?” I asked, hesitant to mention the L-word after Desmond’s outburst the other night.

He ground his teeth together and wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Before or after I punched him?”

My mouth gaped. Desmond was Lucas’s second-in-command, his right-hand man, the Chewie to his Han Solo. I don’t think I’d ever heard of a time when they’d come to blows over something. Now something had, and it was my fault.

Desmond shifted in his seat and looked me in the eyes. His expression was drawn and tired, none of the sweet, cheery man I loved so much.

“I didn’t know,” I told him.

He sighed. “He explained that much to me. It’s the only reason I’m here right now. But this is a big deal. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Can we talk about it?” I took his hand in mine, and he didn’t pull away. “I know you’re upset. Dominick told me the mark…well, he said it made it look like I was picking Lucas over you.”

“It’s a mate mark. It shows everyone you picked him over me.”

“And you thought I would do that without talking to you first?”

“Let’s be honest here, Secret. A lot of what’s happened since you met us has been done without us consulting you. We kidnapped you. Lucas had you brought home against your will. Even my living with you…it wasn’t your choice.”

“Not at the time.” I squeezed his hand to bring his attention back. He’d started to stare at the wall again. “But that was ages ago, Desmond. I love having you here. I love you.”

“More than you love him?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “Yes.”

I don’t think he expected that. He stared at me and said, “Say it again.”

“I love you more than I love Lucas.” The moment I said the words, I knew how true they were. “I do care for him, don’t misunderstand me. But I’d love you even if there were no soul-bond. If I ever lost you, I’d die.”

Desmond didn’t say anything. He pulled me closer using my own grip on his hands and wrapped an arm around my back. I lay against him, my cheek on his chest, languishing in the familiar scent of him and the taste of citrus he left in my mouth. The rise and fall of his breathing made me feel comforted for the first time all week.

“He needs me,” I whispered after a long silence.

“That’s what he said after I decked him.”

“There’s the risk of an uprising in the south. He needs to show a united front, and that means he needs a mate who isn’t…” I sighed, not sure what else to say. Honestly, Lucas should have a mate who was nothing like me. He needed someone obedient and flexible. The more time the wolf king spent trying to make me fit the mold of the queen he wanted, the less it resembled me.

“We never thought it would be this hard,” Desmond admitted. “We always knew the soul-bond was going to be an issue, because of how it connected me to him. When we met you, I figured you’d be with him and that would be that. There was no way for us to see it going like this.” He stroked my hair and kicked his legs up on the couch so I was lying on top of him.

“You guys really believed you could share?”

“I never thought we’d have to. But after the first night you and I were together, Lucas figured that was how it was going to be. He’d turn the other cheek while you and I carried on a physical relationship, and he’d still get to have you as his mate.”

“Isn’t that what’s happening right now?”

“It’s different, though. Because I love you and you love me. We never realized how much human emotion would fuck this whole thing up. It’s hard to be analytical when you’re in love.”

I had to laugh. “Do you think this has any hope in hell of working? Me being his queen but loving you?”

“It’s uncharted territory.” Desmond tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. “I’m not happy about what he did. There was a risk that when he mated you, it would nullify my bond with you. He didn’t seem to take that into consideration when he forced the connection on you.”

“Lucas does a lot of things without thinking about the consequences.”

Desmond kissed my forehead. “He’s my king, and it’s my duty to abide by his decisions. But if he does something this stupid again, to jeopardize what you and I have?” I let my head fall again so I didn’t have to see the sheen of anger painting his face. “I’ll—”

“Don’t say it.” I wasn’t sure how treason worked in the werewolf world, but I didn’t need Desmond putting himself at that kind of risk because of something Lucas had done to me. I pushed myself up so my arms were braced on either side of his chest and I was staring him in the eyes. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Secret…”

“No, it’s fine.” The blue clock on our DVD player said it was only twelve thirty. Plenty of time to meet up with Lucas at the penthouse and be back before sunrise. “I think I need to have a chat with him, anyway. I wasn’t exactly rational when I found out what he’d done.”

“Rationality isn’t your middle name.”

“No. But that makes two of us, Mr. Punches-Holes-in-the-Wall.”

He twisted a lock of my hair around his fingers. “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for how I reacted. But you have to know I would never, never have hit you.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” It hadn’t, honestly. Even when Desmond was dismantling the drywall with his bare hands, I didn’t think he wanted it to be my face instead. He’d been raised by a strong woman and had shown nothing but respect for women the entire time I’d known him. A violent outburst didn’t say great things about his self-control, but I’d never worried he’d lash out at me. “Besides, if you did, I’d break both your arms.”

Desmond laughed and kissed me, sweet and almost chaste by the standards of our usual kisses. “I know you would.”

I got to Rain Hotel twenty minutes later, shared a terse nod with Melvin the night concierge, and ducked into the elevator before he had a chance to give me his two cents on anything. Melvin, a were-ferret, was always a little too interested in the comings and goings of Lucas’s business. I didn’t trust him.

The elevator let me out on the first floor of Lucas’s three-floor penthouse, and unless he was working on something in the office, I doubted I’d find him here. His bedroom was on the second floor along with the guest suites and Desmond’s old residence. The top floor was split between the big lounge area and a massive outdoor patio with an infinity pool looking over the view uptown.

Seeing as it was February he wouldn’t be at the pool, and I didn’t particularly want to check his giant bedroom first. I climbed the stairs to the third floor and stepped into the lounge.

Considering how recently I’d experienced such intense pleasure in this same room, the sense of dread I felt upon entering wasn’t the most standard reaction. Lucas sat on the sofa, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. After the long months of our courtship, I could recognize the signs of stress in his countenance. The fact I could recognize stress better than any other emotion told me Lucas and I needed to have a serious discussion about our relationship.

Which was, after all, the reason I had come.

I cleared my throat, and he snapped to attention, his eyes wide and body tense. He was ready to launch himself across the room at a moment’s notice if need be. Were he in his wolf form, his ears would have been pinned back and his lips curled in a snarl. As a man, he eyed me warily and didn’t let his tension ease when he realized it was me.

We were off to a good start.

I couldn’t blame him for his posture. The way I’d reacted to him during our last conversation was enough to make any man uneasy about his personal safety. I had that effect on people. I just wished it wasn’t on the people I cared about.

“I come in peace,” I offered. “I want to talk.”

His eyelids sagged, and the weariness he’d been hiding leaked to the surface. Lucas was exhausted. “Are you planning to talk with your fists? Because that was Desmond’s opening line too.”

“I’m more of a nonviolent negotiator.” I crossed the room and sat cross-legged on the big ottoman in front of him, about six inches out of his reach.

In response to my words, he let out a snort, then chuckled. “Right.”

“Okay, so I’m not usually big on talking it out, I realize that, but I think we need to discuss what’s going on here.”

“And what exactly is that?” he asked.