“Darling. God, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his gaze devouring me as he steps into Ash’s space and engulfs me in his fresh, woodsy scent. His fingertips brush my cheek, coming away glistening with my tears, and he pops the digits into his mouth, tasting my overwhelming happiness leaving tracks down my face.
“Kai,” I can’t think of a single thing to say, my entire being thrumming with his nearness after being away from them all for so long.
“It’s okay, love, we’re here now, and it’ll all be okay,” he assures me, eliminating any space between us, his hand tangling in my hair and angling my face as he kisses my trembling lips.
Like Ash’s kiss, there is sorrow and regret in Kai’s, but also a deep possession and assurance that lends credence to his words of moments ago. His lips and tongue tell me that he, they, will keep me safe, and never again will I have to endure this horror. My tongue matches his, our movements in perfect synchronicity as we relearn what each other tastes like.
The embrace ends with a bittersweet final peck of lips, and Kai steps away with a deep breath, letting Jax take his place.
My protective Viking wastes no time on sweet words or gestures, his huge hand wrapping round my throat and pulling me to him, crushing his lips to mine with the same force that he undoubtedly pushed the wardrobe over. He decimates me with tongue, teeth, and lips, punishing me for my absence, then soothing me a second later as his other hand gently strokes the side of my rounded stomach.
As if in reproach of his barbaric behaviour, the baby gives his palm a vicious kick, and Jax's mouth abruptly leaves mine, a dark, pride-filled smirk on his lips.
“I will fucking chain you to my bed if I have to, Baby Girl, but you are never to leave us again. Got it?” he growls at me, and I can’t stop the visceral reaction I have at the sound of his voice and his words. It’s fucked up, but my cunt clenches at the raw dominance coming off him in waves, and he fucking knows it as his smile gets wider, flashing me his pearly whites in what might be considered a snarl. “Good girl.”
He too steps to the side, releasing my throat, and my eyes land on the perfect beauty of my trickster. But unlike the others, Loki stays back a few steps, avoiding my seeking gaze.
“Loki?” I question, advancing towards him on unsure steps, coldness suffusing my limbs as I worry about what might be causing this strange behaviour. Stepping right up to him, I can feel the tension vibrating in his body, his muscles twitching. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I reach out, cupping his strong jaw in my palm and turning him to face me. I startle when I see his eyes swimming, his face a mask of tortured pain that cracks my fragile heart clean in two. “Talk to me, my love. Tell me what’s wrong, please?”
His head drops, then slowly rises as the breath rushes out of his chest. His emerald eyes study me, cataloguing all that has changed over the past five weeks. His jaw tightens as he undoubtedly notes the slight gauntness that I still have from all the meals I missed when I was in a drug-induced sleep, the purple bruises under my eyes from the sleepless nights, all those times that my nightmares consumed me, nightmares that may have been more real than I knew.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking sorry…I—” he cuts himself off, his voice cracking, full of rage and self-loathing, his upper lip curling upwards. “I shouldn’t have left you that night.”
My own chest empties as the breath leaves me at his confession.
“Loki, no, none of this is your fault. None of it,” I tell him firmly, my eyebrows dipped as I will him to accept my words for the simple truth that they are.
Before he can argue further, and I see the reply about to leave those lush lips of his, I brace my other hand on his firm chest, lifting myself up onto tiptoes, and press my own mouth to his. My eyes close as the sweetness that is Loki Thorn rushes over me. He freezes for a millisecond, then with a panty-destroying groan, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight into his hard body as he kisses me back. His tongue seeks forgiveness that I readily give, and I willingly drown in his vanilla scent, needing him with a desperation that rivals my need to breathe.
Our kiss is interrupted by the crackling of a radio, Roman’s voice sounding in the now silent room, their epic entrance song having finished at some point during our reunion.
“The dirty rat has been trapped in the library, Conrad. I repeat, the dirty rat has been trapped in the library. Over and out.”
“I’m destined to spend my days surrounded by fucking imbeciles,” I hear Ash grumble, and a giggle escapes my lips.
“Come on, Pretty Girl,” Loki tells me, turning and slinging an arm over my shoulders. There’s still a look of haunting guilt in his eyes, and I’ve the feeling that it’ll take a while for that to vanish completely. “Time to skin ourselves a rodent. I made a playlist especially for the occasion.”
“Of course you did,” I respond with a chuckle, and a fissure of adrenaline rushes through my body at the fact that I’m being included in what they have planned. There’s no hesitation in him, no protest from any of them as Loki guides me down the small gap between the fallen wardrobe at the end of my bed towards the door.
I look behind me as we exit the room, the others and Mai following us as we head towards the stairs. Catching Ash’s eye, he gives me a small nod, an affirmation that he believes in me and my ability to cope with what lies ahead. I also like to think that he recognises my thirst for vengeance.
I stride down the stairs, one Knight beside me with three others following behind, my steps sure and steady. I look inside myself and realise that I, too, don’t falter, don't pause at what is undoubtedly about to be a very bloody end for my uncle.
A smile that is most likely quite terrifying in its peaceful serenity tugs up my lips as I reach the bottom step, knowing that my only living relative will not see another sunrise. The thought fills me not with horror, but with grim satisfaction, and with a sense that justice will be served in my name once more to a monster, doled out by monsters much bigger and more frightening than he is.
Not for the first time, I know that I am one of them.
And damn proud of it too.
CHAPTEREIGHT
LILLY
We enter the library as a group, Mai heading off after the guys told her that she needed to leave and there was someone from The Shadows waiting to escort her home. She was pissed and didn’t want to leave me, but once the boys assured her that I would be looked after and no harm would come to me, she reluctantly left saying that I’d hear from her tomorrow.
The soft glow of the lit wall sconces is the only light in the vast space, the heavy curtains drawn over the huge windows so the rest of the room is in shadow, and there’s a solitary, high-backed wooden chair in the centre of the room. In the chair is my uncle, bound with cable ties cutting into his wrists and ankles, tying him to the arms and legs of the piece of furniture. It's a beautiful piece, all carved wood and looks antique, the triangular back reaching above his head and making it look more like a throne than an ordinary seat. A throne of death perhaps.
His eyes widen when he sees our group, and he thrashes around, his cries muffled by the piece of gaffer tape that covers his mouth. Two shadows push off from the wall, making my heart thrash a little in my chest until the Kent twins' faces are revealed, dressed in their usual black and with matching, maniacal grins across their faces. A third shadow disentangles itself from the corner, the hulking figure making his way towards us.