I didn’t like that Tate had hidden stuff from me, that he’d shared it with Dillon and asked him to keep it a secret, but I could understand why. “Do the Faoladh know?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “Okay, I get why he kept that from me, but now we know I can control it, why can’t I use it if I want to?”
“The Mageri monitor the taint’s power signature in Hawthorne. The Faoladh are the first line of defense, but the Mageri are the last. You have taint genes, so it stands to reason that your power has a similar if not the same signature. If they sense it, they will come for you.”
“What…What do you mean they’ll come for me? I’m not a threat.”
“You’re the taint’s progeny, and they can’t take any risks.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to continue, to say the words that I could sense hovering between us. He didn’t, so I did it for him.
“They’ll kill me, won’t they?”
“Yes.”
“But Lorenzo knows I’m the taint’s daughter.”
“You weren’t exhibiting her power then. Lorenzo’s agreed not to say anything to the Mageri council, but if you use your power in Hawthorne there’s a risk they’ll detect it.” He gripped my hand. “The Mageri can’t know about the darkness inside you.”
Balthazar came to mind. How he’d shut Hendrick down when I used my power, how he’d ordered me back to Hawthorne.
Oh, shit. Oh, fucking shit. “We might have a problem.”
“And this is what happens when you don’t communicate.” I glared at Tate. “If you’d told me about the Mageri’s hard-on for killing anything taint, I wouldn’t have…” Ah, fuck. “I’d still have used my power to escape.” I had no argument here, but still it felt good to berate him for hiding stuff from me.
We sat around the fire pit, hot beverages in hand courtesy of Tate, who’d swung by the coffee place in town before heading over. He paced back and forth in agitation, his coffee cup abandoned on a rock. Dillon sat beside me nursing his chai, and Jax and Emmit sat on the other side of the pit, their faces decorated by firelight. Bryce sat on the tree stump to my right, forearms braced on his thighs, jaw tight with tension.
My mocha sat heavy in my stomach but I took another gulp anyway. “They’ll come now. That Mageri saw me use the power. He told me to come back here probably because in Hawthorne I’m cornered.”
“I tried calling Lorenzo but he’s not answering,” Tate said. His hair looked disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it over and over. “I’ve left messages, though. I told him you were in control of your power, that the taint had no hold over you like he’d been afraid it would.”
“We wait,” Bryce said. “We’ve posted guards at the boundary. If they come, we’ll know. If they want you, they’ll have to go through us.”
“And me,” Tate said. “They’ll have to get through me.”
“If they come, I’ll take Quinn into the sea,” Dillon said. “She’ll be safe in the ocean. They can’t follow her there.”
“They’ll just be waiting for me when I come back out.” I wanted to tear at my hair to curse the taint for putting me in this precarious position. “I can’t hide forever. Maybe I can talk to the council. Maybe I can convince them—”
Tate’s phone rang shrilly in his pocket. He yanked it free and answered on the third ring. “Hello…Thank God…What? When? Okay, okay. Let me know asap. Thank you.”
He hung up. “That was Lorenzo. He got my messages. He’s been summoned to a summit to discuss a culling.”
“Me…”
“He believes so. Balthazar is attending as a witness. Lorenzo says this meeting will determine a course of action. Right now, there is no concrete proof of what you are. No one has sensed the taint’s power in Hawthorne. He’s confident he can smooth things over.”
“When will we know?” Jax asked.
“Tomorrow night. We’ll know tomorrow night.”
“I’ll be back with breakfast in the morning.” Tate tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”
He couldn’t make such promises, but it felt nice to hear. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
He kissed the top of my head before leaving with Dillon. I was alone with my Faoladh mates. Jax, Bryce, and Emmit watched me from across the flames of the fire pit.
“We should get some sleep,” Jax said.
They waited, and it hit me that they were waiting for me to decide whose den I’d be sharing tonight.
I loved them all, wanted them all. It didn’t seem fair for me to choose. “Whose den should I bunk in tonight?”
Bryce nodded, catching my meaning. It was for them to decide.
Emmit retreated to his den and returned with the pouch of stones. They each drew one.
Jax’s grin told me he’d drawn the winning pebble.
Bryce sighed and rounded the pit toward me. He cupped my face tenderly, staring deep into my eyes before delivering a kiss that left me weak-kneed and clutching his shoulders. By the time he broke the kiss my body burned with need, aching for his touch, for his cock deep inside me.
“Bryce…” I licked my lips, my gaze zeroed in on his mouth.
He gave me a crooked smile and released me, looking over his shoulder at Jax, who shook his head with a wry smile.
Bryce kissed my temple and strode off into the night.
Emmit didn’t approach me to say goodnight, and the heat in his eyes was explanation enough. His berserker was close to the surface, and he didn’t want to risk it coming out. I held his gaze, letting him know I wasn’t afraid, reminding him that I accepted all of him.
He gave me a nod, then broke into a jog, shifting before disappearing into the night.
“Where is he going?”
“Perimeter check, no doubt,” Jax said. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Damn, I’d missed sex with Jax. The slow start, the build-up of touches and slow kisses that soon became heated.
He loved eye contact, holding me captive with his gaze between deep, satisfying kisses before sliding down my body and locking gazes with me from between my thighs as his tongue flicked against my sensitized flesh and his hands held me wide for his exploration. His regard, the desire in his eyes, heightened my pleasure, and my cries echoed off the walls as I came against his mouth, reveling in the greedy sounds he made as he devoured my orgasm, lapping at me as if I were made of ambrosia.
My chest was tight, thighs trembling in the aftermath. “Jax…” I sank my hands into his golden mane, drawing him up my body to claim his mouth, tasting myself on his lips.
His hands roved over me, kneading, digging in with delicious intent. He deepened the kiss into something open-mouthed and desperate before slipping his fingers into my hot, wet center, still swollen and throbbing from the orgasm.
“Jax, I can’t. I—”
I was wrong. I could. I so fucking could. He devoured my moans, holding me steady even as my hips rose to swallow his fingers again and again. A fresh wave of heat rushed up my body to hug my throat with fiery fingers as I came again.