I enter without knocking, not bothered if that mental image comes to life. As pissy as he’d be, the look on his face while he struggles with blue balls would be worth breaking up their party. Instead, I’m greeted by the sight of Lion standing tall while leaning against his desk, typing something on his phone.
His brows are pinched, and his body stiff with tension. He has his own shit going on, yet here I am dumping my midlife crisis on him.
Lion looks up through his long, dark lashes, his hair more mussed than usual and those fiery eyes dim from stress he won’t share. When I cock a questioning eyebrow, he jerks his chin, signaling for me to close the door.
“If you’re planning to propose, I’m not sure your bombshell would appreciate that.” I smile, closing the distance between us.
Lion snorts, then rubs his large hand down his face, stopping to massage pressure out from his temples before his gaze meets the floor. I cross my arms and watch his handsome features harden, a knot forming as his jaw sets.
“What can I do to help?” Lion’s eyes snap up at my question. His gaze narrows in on me, but his face softens when he realizes my sincerity.
“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing,” Lion quips, cocking an eyebrow before pushing off his desk to walk behind it. He pulls a set of keys from his pockets and unlocks one of his drawers, then pulls it open to rifle through the contents.
Lion and I aren’t soft people, so moments like this are few and far between. I can’t tell if he’s avoiding another bonding moment because it’s not within our comfort levels, or if he’s actually looking for something.
“Let’s get you through this bullshit ball, then you can worry about me,” he adds. Finally seeming to find what he’s looking for, he smirks to himself and stands at his full height.
“That’s not how this works,” I argue.
“You protect me and I protect you.” Lion reaches into the drawer once more and removes a sheathed dagger, taking a moment to stare at it before continuing. “It’s exactly how this works, Mal. I’ve always got your six.”
I stare at him, wondering whether this giant of a man has completely lost his fucking mind when he unsheathes the dagger and hands it to me. A cocky smirk plays at his lips as my eyes volley between his face and the knife while he waits for me to take it.
Eyeing it suspiciously, Lion snorts before waving it in front of my face, encouraging me to hurry up and take the thing.
“The fuck is this?” I ask, reaching out and accepting it. Lion crosses his arms and stares at me like this is something we do all the time.
It’s both beautiful and horrifying to look at. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but there’s one thing I know right away—it’s deadly. The serrated blade stirs up excitement, and I’m eager to use it to cause carnage. I balance the weapon, testing its weight as I flip it from tip to heel, then back again.
It’s lightweight—perfect for throwing.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, running my fingers along the intricate vines that are engraved into the metal seamlessly and flow into the handle. A large, green gem is encrusted into the handle—the color that signifies the Olin family. The color of mine and my dad’s eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
“Look at it again,” Lion urges when I try to hand it back to him.
A giant smile cracks along his face, all cockiness and stress faded, if only for a moment. I look at the dagger again, and my eyes catch on text that’s etched into the blade.
Siempre te tengo.
Always got you, written in Lion’s native tongue.
My chest tightens at the gesture, understanding this is the present Lion was talking about. I look at him, and he shifts on his feet, uncomfortable with the situation. Still though, there’s softness in his eyes. Any amount of softness from Lion Fernando Castello is a gift of its own.
“My papa told me about a conversation he had with Uncle Nate when the arrangement was set with your mother.” Anger flares under my skin at the mention of the woman who birthed me, but I fight back the urge to lash out. It’s all I do when it comes to that woman, and just the thought of her has my hackles up. “‘You’re an Olin by blood, but a Castello at heart,’ he had told your dad when he wanted to give it all up. I’ve seen the deepest parts of you, Malia. I’ve battled at your side through every trial, and we always come out on top. No matter what front you put up regarding what’s going on with the cop, with your mom, and with the ball, you can’t hide from me.”
“Lion…”
“This is painful enough, just let me get through it before you open your mouth with a smart-ass comment.” I laugh, knowing what he’s saying is true then my throat constricts with wanting to cry.
I don’t fucking cry.
“Don’t let this shit eat you up like I know it is.” Lion reaches out and flicks at my chin with his knuckle. I hadn’t noticed that I’d lowered my head to avoid his words.
I’m ashamed of my weaknesses.
Ashamed of the demons that have burrowed themselves so deep into my soul. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, or whether evil pumps through your blood or the good shines through like a beacon in the dark. At the end of the day, we’re all human.
We all have something fighting to take what we love from us.