Chapter Eighteen

Garen had a brief moment of panic when he entered the penthouse the next morning and couldn’t immediately sense Melody’s presence. The only impression he had was of the residue of Skye’s energy that permeated the place. He found her in her room on the second floor, sound asleep, her aura glowing blue more than gold. No wonder he hadn’t sensed her—she was so inundated with Skye’s energy he barely recognized her own faint aura buried beneath it.

He paused in the doorway, simply watching the subtle rise and fall of her aura in tandem with her breaths. She was a Blessed, a human touched by dragon magic in the womb, which meant she had been born already attuned to his kind. Not to the degree that a mated human was, but close. The act of granting such a blessing to an unborn human was never an accident. It meant a dragon who had given Melody this gift had loved her and her mother deeply and wanted her to grow up to find a dragon mate. This was why she responded as she had to Kol, and then to him and Skye, and why she agreed to sign the contract to begin with.

He resolved then to ensure she found a dragon mate—Skye. To honor the wish of the dragon who had loved her so much. Losing them both would destroy him, but he would see to it that she succeeded in fully breaking her bond to Kol and sealing the growing bond she had with Skye. And then he would leave.

He closed the door softly and headed back downstairs to the kitchen. She would be hungry when she woke, and likely full of questions. Determined to be prepared for her every need and desire, he mentally worked through every possibility while he cooked.

She came down, sleepy eyed and mussed, only a few minutes after the aromas of food began to fill the air.

“You must love me,” she said, giving him a bright smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Gathering his composure he smiled back with what he hoped was a cheery smile in return. “It wouldn’t be that tough a feat. You do make it very easy.”

“Flatterer,” she said, hopping up on the bar stool she’d eaten on the day before. Time flowed so much quicker in the new world than it had when he was hibernating, yet only the past three days had seemed to encompass eons where his own life, his emotions, were concerned.

He served her food, which she ate voraciously, barely speaking two words in between mouthfuls.

“You’re not eating,” she observed once she’d slowed down and started chewing her food rather than inhaling it.

“I ate when I left,” he lied. In truth, he hadn’t had an appetite for anything but her since that morning when he’d seen the glorious tendrils of her energy reaching out to him. His own aura had itched to entwine itself with her reaching energy, to entwine himself in her before he understood what that display had implied to Skye. His failure. The fact that Skye had then given him instructions to encourage Melody to test the contract didn’t alleviate his shame over betraying his friend.

She nodded, her expression only briefly skeptical before she frowned and said, “What happened with Skye? I take it since you’re back here, he’s at least not pissed off at both of us.”

“He is. He’s giving me another chance, and like you I’m also on a probation of sorts.” He thought about what Skye had told him regarding Kol’s wishes. He hated lying to her, but her rebellion was by design, and he was a key component in her rebellion. But how to encourage it and still keep his feelings in check?

“What exactly does your probation entail?” she asked, one pretty gold eyebrow arched.

Garen wanted nothing more than to taste Melody’s essence again in lieu of breakfast, but he answered. “Keeping ~you ~under control, apparently,” he said. “You didn’t need to protect me, Melody. I’ll tell you a secret about Skye. He can read your emotions even more deeply than a simple aura can display. He knew you were covering for me. Why did you do it?”

She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin on her hands, smirking at him. “You shoved your finger in me and made me come the other night. You ~promised~ he’d never know, yet he did. Somehow. How did he know?”

Garen tried not to think about how luxurious her pussy had felt with his fingers buried in it at the moment she came.

~Help her break the rules. She’ll test you, but let her. ~

She’d already tested him. He licked his lips and looked at her.

“More secrets?” he whispered.

“Yes, please,” she said. “Unless we have a schedule to keep.”

“We should work out,” he said, unconvincingly.

Melody raised an eyebrow and quirked her mouth. She hopped off her stool anyway.

As she headed toward the stairs she called over her shoulder. “You’re in deep already. You owe me so much dirt I could build a fort when you finally deliver.” She maintained a bouncy step and the same teasing tone, but the playful glow of her aura seemed to fade with some deeper shadow as she climbed to her room.

Garen snorted at her response, but she was too far to hear. She’d bury him if she knew what he was up to.

To ensure he had dug himself deep enough, he made a call to Kol.

“Tell me everything you left out of Melody’s files. Everything.”

* * *

Melody had to quell the sick feeling in her stomach as she rifled through the closet to find fresh workout gear. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was failing. At the contract, which should have been the simplest thing in the world to follow, but really it was the hardest.

She’d read it all twice. She knew what she was in for, but she hadn’t counted on her “keeper” to be so … Her entire torso tingled with the thought of what Garen was. Was there even a word to describe a man as attentive and attuned as he was? So easy to be with one moment and then making her want him like crazy the next?

And then there was Skye. The wildcard, at first. At least that was what she’d considered him until the day before. All she’d experienced until then was his tongue and nothing else.

The man himself was beyond imagining. Her skin still tingled from his touch. Oh God she probably still glowed, too ….

She shut the closet door and turned off the light, just to check. In the full-length mirror, stark naked, her pores glimmered with faint light. It looked like constellations flickering on her skin. Like she was the representation of some smaller imagining of a goddess.

“Oh, fuck,” she said. ~How the hell did you spend the day with a guy you liked when you were filled up with the energy of the guy you just fucked?~

“He knows,” she told her reflection. The understanding that Garen was fully aware of her connection to Skye didn’t help, though.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Melody?”

“Go away!”

She heard a dismissive snort.

“Why are you hiding?”

“Because I’m afraid of you.”

“Why?”

~Why? Fuck is that the question of the century. Why, indeed. Why? Because I want you and I don’t want to want you. Why? Because I want you and I want him. Because I thought I knew what I wanted before this all started and now I’m not so sure.~

Oh, God did she want Skye and hated like hell that he was disappointed in her. And there was Garen on the other side of the door, a man she knew could take her to just as spectacular heights of pleasure, yet he was tasked with only taking her to the last camp before the summit while Skye got to see her the rest of the way to the peak. She’d thought she wanted what Kol had awakened in her, to give in to him completely, but the more Garen tested her, the more she wanted nothing to do with the damn contract. She wanted to do everything except what the contract required—but she wanted the rewards of it, too.

“I want to fuck you.” That was honest enough, right? Except it was really so much more complicated than that.

“Me too. But that’s a line we can’t cross.”

Melody blinked at her reflection, surprised by his confession and entirely unequipped to figure out how she felt about it.

“What do we do about it?” she asked, lamely.

“Maybe you come out and we actually make a decision face to face?”

“I’m not gay,” she said, opening the door. “But I’m open to new ideas.”

Garen grinned. “New ideas are all I need. I decided we won’t work out today, though. I think we need a field trip.”

Melody balked. “I was told in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t leave the penthouse.”

Garen smirked at her. “I have executive privilege. If anyone asks, I made you do it. Besides, I doubt the contract says anything to the contrary.”

“What if Skye finds out? And don’t tell me he won’t, because you can see how well that went for us the first time. No … I don’t think I should.”

A glimmer of shame crossed his face and she regretted making him remember. He nodded. “You’re right. I have a better idea. Come on.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the closet, still naked. Ignoring her protests, he led her to the elevator. When she physically resisted, he bent down and lifted her over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing!” she cried, smacking her fists into his back. “I’m ~naked~.”

“What I’m doing is kidnapping you. If Skye doesn’t believe you, he can watch the videos and see that you’re protesting. And I’ll take care of your clothes in a second.”

Melody wiggled ineffectually, but he had his arm wrapped tightly around her bare thighs, so she simply grabbed onto his hips for lack of anything else to hold onto. The truth was, the contact served to calm her down a bit. When she saw the elevator’s display reach the halfway point to the lobby, he finally set her down again and looked her over.

“Eyes shut,” he said.

Melody glared at him and crossed her arms. When he raised an admonishing brow she huffed and shut her eyes. His warm, gentle touch tugged at her wrists, urging her to drop her hands to her sides. The barest brush of his fingers against her breast left her wishing he’d do more. She felt herself leaning toward him, hoping that this was another little teasing game designed to arouse her. But he only took a deep breath and she heard him expel a long, drawn-out sigh. Her skin tingled like a thousand tiny feathers were sliding over every inch of her.

“Oh,” she said softly, and sighed in response to the soft flow of air around her that seemed to grow denser and warmer by the second. It ~was~ arousing, but only by virtue of how it gradually tightened around her body, squeezing her breasts and hugging her hips and thighs.

“All right, you can open your eyes now,” Garen said. “What do you think?”

She looked down at herself and gasped, surprised to see she was now clad in a snug, flowery camisole and a pair of snug denim pedal-pushers, with sandals on her feet. She plucked at the fabric, worried it might not be real, but it felt real enough. Silk, by the texture of it, but the contact left a warm sensation on her fingertips.

“This is amazing! I’m beginning to worry that you prefer dressing me over undressing me.”

“You’re a joy to be with regardless of your clothing.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

Garen led her through the parking garage to a gleaming white car that took her breath away. The reality of this new little rebellion he’d talked her into tightened her belly as she slid into the soft leather seat. She smiled at the sound of the engine turning over.

“Not the kind of car I’d ever picture you in, I have to say,” she said as he backed the car out of the slot and headed toward the sunlight of the exit.

“What would you picture me in?” he asked. Once out on the road, he tapped a button on the dash and the roof slowly folded down into the compartment behind the seats.

“Not sure. Something flashier, I guess? I mean after seeing the penthouse and everything … A Bentley, maybe.”

Garen chuckled. “That’s what Skye drives. I don’t actually live in the penthouse, you know. I’m there for the two of you. My own place is across town.”

Her curiosity piqued at the idea of truly seeing into his little world. “Can we go there or am I your prisoner for the day with no choices of my own?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Melody,” he said harshly. “I don’t know if we should go to my place, though. Anywhere else you’d like?”

She pursed her lips. “Show me your other favorite places in the city if I can’t see where you live.”

He grinned at her and hit the accelerator. The wind whipped through her hair suddenly, making her whoop and laugh out loud as she struggled to gather her locks up to keep them from tangling. Before she could get it under control, a length of something silky threaded through, slipping beneath her fingers.

“Move your hands,” Garen said.

A moment later she reached back to find her hair bound tightly in a long ribbon that wove through the entire length, holding it and keeping it from flying away in the wind.

“More secrets?” she asked.

“That’s just one,” he said. “I’ll tell you whatever you’d like to hear today.”

She lost track of where they were going, so focused on him and his words that she didn’t care that she wasn’t locked in a gilded cage. The freedom to simply ask questions and be answered was liberating in the extreme. Yet he kept skirting around the real question: ~What are you?~

They’d parked some time earlier and were walking through the lush greenery of Golden Gate Park when she grew frustrated and stopped.

“Okay, here’s a question. Why can’t you just tell me the truth? I’ve known my whole life that there were people like you out there—people who were different, though it didn’t really click how different until I met several of you in succession. I think I have a right to know what it is. Why won’t you just say it?”

He stopped in a dappled patch of sunlight, his pale, messy hair shimmering like corn silk. His expression darkened as he considered how to answer.

“You don’t actually have a right to know any of it, technically. We have laws that govern our race and one of them is that we’re not permitted to reveal our true nature to others. It would be bad for you if I did. So, I’m telling you everything else I can without telling you ~that~. Please don’t ask me again, Melody. You will find out in due time.”

She scowled at him. “What if I told you I think I’m like you? Or at least half like you.” She stared at him, resolute. It had to be true. Her mother had said Alec wasn’t her father, but Melody had never really believed her. And whenever Melody had asked about Alec after he’d left, her mother had grown quiet and evasive. But now there was no doubt in her mind that he’d been like Garen and Skye.

“I won’t deny that you are very special, Melody, which is why Skye and I feel it’s safe to tell you the things we’ve shared, but you are human. I know why you might think otherwise—in fact Skye and I know a lot about you that you don’t realize. The man you believe is your father is not, but it is true he is one of us. Your biological father’s still alive, but not someone you’d like to meet. He’s a criminal, and very much human.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The man your mother fell in love with was named Alec, and he was from my parents’ generation. We’re trying to track down his legacy, but we’ve been having trouble. We believe he died without siring any children. He loved you and your mother, very deeply, but she was already pregnant with you when they met. Your mother likely didn’t tell you any of this because she never knew the true secret.”

Melody’s breath escaped in a harsh gasp. “He can’t be dead,” she said, shaking her head. “Please tell me you don’t know for certain!”

Garen cursed under his breath and immediately drew her into his arms, shushing her. “It’s another quirk of our race—the lives of the generations rarely overlap for very long. Most of his generation is dead, but no, we don’t have proof that he is.”

She let out a stuttering sigh, wiping her eyes and pulling away from him. “I would keep your secret,” she said softly, her chest tightening with the hurt that he didn’t trust her enough to share.

“I know you would. Please be patient.”

“How can you be so sure my mother never knew?” she asked.

“Because she would be dead now if she’d known,” he said, his gaze hard and set unwaveringly on her face.

Her belly tightened like he’d just punched her. It had sounded like a threat, even though she didn’t believe he would ever threaten her. Did he mean that if he told her too soon, she would die? She’d had a slew of other questions to ask, but none of them seemed significant now.

“I want to go back now, please.”

Garen let out a soft sigh and nodded. He turned to walk back to the car and she followed, the bright sun and adventure of the day losing its luster after their conversation.

A little later when he parked the car, she shook her brooding mood off for long enough to ask, “Where are we? This isn’t Skye’s building.”

They were in another parking garage, but it was definitely not the one they’d left from earlier.

“You wanted to see where I lived, didn’t you?” he said, climbing out of the car and coming around to open her door.

The building itself was smaller and older, the tiny elevator barely large enough to contain his tall, broad-shouldered frame. He shifted around behind her after the door closed and he pressed the button for the top floor. She wondered abstractly if they always lived in penthouses.

The elevator opened into an open loft-style apartment, smaller than Skye’s but no less richly furnished. The decor was a contradiction to his sweet nature and attention to detail when he prepped her for her night with Skye the day before. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t the dark leather and carved wood furnishings, peppered throughout with elaborately carved statues of mythical creatures. She paused before one large wooden carving of six beasts entwined. It looked ancient and beautiful, the creatures’ legs and tails swirled and tangled in a giant Celtic knot.

But unlike Skye’s apartment, this place looked undeniably lived-in. There was definite wear on the rugs and the floor that indicated a person walking through frequently. The sofas and chairs looked like they were regularly sat on. And a few of the smaller statues looked well-loved.

“Have you always collected this stuff? Is it like a hobby you and Skye share?”

“More like a fixation for our race, really. Most of these things belonged to my parents, as did the building we’re in. I have a few new things, but only the most beautiful, well-crafted objects catch my attention. Those are the things I bring home to keep.”

He was giving her an odd look then, not unlike the look he’d given her that morning right before running out of the apartment after his apology. The look made Melody’s heart beat faster and she took a few steps closer to him.

“What’s the last thing you brought home with you to keep?” she asked.

The air between them seemed to thicken and he moved closer, his eyes never leaving her face. He paused barely an inch in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body radiating through their clothing. As though dazed, he turned his head and blinked at the fireplace mantelpiece they stood beside.

“Not something I collected—something I made,” he said, clutching a small object in his fist and holding it up for her to see.

It was a tiny stone figurine of a woman, naked with her face raised to the heavens, her breasts pointed alluringly and her hand between her thighs. The details were too exquisite for her not to recognize her own face, even in miniature.

“This is … My God, you ~made~ this?”

“I have hobbies besides being at your beck and call.”

“But you’ve known me three days!”

“I made it last night. I think I know your body pretty well after the last couple days.”

She took the small figurine, surprised at how warm the stone felt against her skin. Her nipples hardened at the memory of how well he’d acquainted himself with every inch of her the day before. Yet he’d barely even touched her today.

In fact, he hadn’t so much as lain a finger on her all day, aside from the moment he’d bodily removed her from Skye’s apartment.

“When am I supposed to see Skye again?” she asked softly, focusing her eyes on the tiny shape in her hand. Had Skye been as attuned to her body as Garen?

“He’s out of the country until the weekend,” he said.

“Does that mean you won’t touch me until he’s due to return?”

“There’s no need,” he said, though his voice was tight and when she glanced at him, his eyes were filled with longing.

She wanted to vehemently deny that suggestion, but kept her mouth shut. Their rebellion by leaving the penthouse was enough for one day. She feared that if she convinced him to touch her, she’d never let him stop.

“Right,” she said. She moved to hand the figurine back to him but he shook his head.

“You keep it. We should get back.”

* * *

Melody spent the next few days subdued, simply trying her best to tamp down the longing she had for a simple touch from Garen. Even during their daily workouts, he remained distant while he gave her instructions and spotted her while lifting weights. As though a simple touch was too much for him to handle. And it may have been the truth—she craved it desperately, but wasn’t sure she’d be able to restrain herself any more than he would.

The day Skye was due to return, she woke up from an intensely erotic dream of Garen making love to her. But at the end he disappeared, his lovely cock replaced by Skye’s insistent tongue, driving her into a frenzy.

She woke in a sweat, her thighs twining together, clenching with the need to orgasm. The haze of the dream lingered when she went down to breakfast. Garen served her like usual but paused after setting her plate down and leaned over the counter, eyeing her.

“You won’t need my help, if you wake up like that,” he said.

“Does that disappoint you?” she shot at him. She bit her lip and stabbed her fork into a chunk of melon. “Sorry. I didn’t think I could be this damn sexually frustrated.”

He gave her a smile. “I know the feeling.”

She immediately felt ungrateful and selfish. “I’m sorry. If there was anything I could do … Do you think there’s a chance for you to ever be able to …? I mean, is it a physical thing you can fix somehow?”

“We’re complicated creatures. But I’ll find my enjoyment where I can. So eat up.”

Melody’s face heated under his eager gaze. He meant ~her~. And he most definitely meant what she’d also been anticipating for the last few days. The thing that had prompted her to have deliciously dirty dreams all week.

She scarfed down her breakfast, then waited impatiently while he took his time cleaning up. He glanced over his shoulder periodically while he washed the dishes.

“I thought Skye had staff to take care of stuff like that.”

“As long as I’m here, I’ll handle it. It’s better if we’re ensured privacy, anyway.”

She squirmed in her seat when he finally hung up the dish towel and walked around the wide kitchen island, his gaze intense and assessing, as though contemplating which part of her body he would torment first.