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His lips curve. “Would you rather I toss your over my shoulder and just take you with me?”
Kind of.
Except, no, I wouldn’t. I wanted a choice, and now I have one. Really, there’s only one option. If my father realizes what I am, he’ll try to kill me. Or, more likely, he’ll try to break me so he can use me to boost his own power. Neither option are good ones for me. At least with these three, I have a chance. Hell, I have more than a chance.
First, we have to get out of this house.
Two minutes later, we’re at the front door. Malachi tosses my suitcase to Wolf and hefts me into his arms. When I start to protest, he gives me a look. “Seraph or not, you can’t keep up.”
Damn it, but he’s right. “Okay.”
He looks at Wolf and Rylan. “Where to?”
“New York.” Rylan glances at the sky. “We can get there in half a day or so, and even if he sends his trackers, it will be difficult to find us amongst that many humans.”
Malachi nods. “Lead the way.”
He moves as a quick lope across the grounds, not quite blurring. When we reach the edge of the property, Wolf leaps over the seven foot iron fence as if it’s nothing. Rylan follows suit. Malachi hesitates and then we’re airborne. He tenses as we pass over the top, but nothing happens. The blood ward really is broken.
He gives that rusty laugh of his when he lands on the other side. “Freedom.”
“Not quite,” Rylan says.
“Close enough for me.”
We take off into the night, the cool air whipping against my face. I look over Malachi’s shoulder in time to see flames licking through the windows of the house we just abandoned. They spread preternaturally fast, consuming the roof in giant bites. Something gives way and a piece of the house collapses. There will be no rebuilding that particular cage.
Malachi and I really are free. Or as free as we can be while my father still lives.
I open my eyes, resolve settling over me. No matter what else happens with these three men, one thing is certain.
For us to be safe, we have to kill my father.
And I have to be pregnant before we can do it.
I can feel Malachi’s heartbeat. It throbs in my chest, a steady thump that would be reassuring if it wasn’t so foreign. After all, it’s not as if I’m lounging with my head on his chest the way I have many times in the last month. Malachi isn’t even in the house.
He’s across the county, the miles stretching between us.
I rub the back of my hand against my sternum, but if the last four weeks have taught me anything, it’s that the sensation of multiple hearts nestled up against mine is magical in nature, rather than physical. Malachi assures me that I’ll get used to it eventually, which might actually be reassuring if his dark eyes weren’t worried every time he looks at me. Better than Rylan, who won’t look at me at all. I still don’t understand why he hasn’t left our little nest and taken his chances on his own. I don’t understand him.
And Wolf?
Wolf, true to form, offered to carve open my chest to relieve me of the sensation.
“Stop it.”
I don’t look over as Rylan’s icy words cut through the stillness of the loft. “You’re talking to me now? How novel.” I drop my hand, and then have to curl it into a fist to resist going back to rubbing my sternum when Malachi’s heartbeat kicks up a notch. The feeling in my chest intensifies, signaling proximity. “He’s coming.”
“About time,” Rylan mutters.
At that, I finally face him. “It’s been a month. Leave if you hate it with me that much.”
“I would if I could.” He practically hurls the words at me. His hand goes to his chest, mirroring me. He looks just as perfectly put together as he has from the moment I met him, his dark hair cut short on the silvered temples, his endless supply of suits without a wrinkle out of place. The only time I’ve seen him remotely rumpled was the night we all fucked, subsequently awakening my powers and landing us in this mess.
Together.
Whether we like it or not.
“Just kill me then. It’s what you wanted from the beginning.”
His eyes flash silver, the only sign that I’ve gotten beneath his skin. I shouldn’t be so petty as to enjoy aggravating Rylan, but he’s like a wall of knives I brush against with every movement. Malachi and Wolf might not be overly comfortable being tied to me, but at least they like me a little. Rylan’s hated me from the start—a very mutual sentiment—and now we can’t escape each other.
“Would that I could.” He turns and stalks to the balcony doors, pausing to strip and systematically fold his clothing over the chair set there for what I assume is entirely that purpose.
I know what’s coming, and as such, I should look away. But I’ve had so few pleasures in my life that I find myself unable to resist a single one, no matter the source. A naked Rylan is a pleasure, what comes next even more so.
He’s gorgeous in an entirely different way than Malachi and Wolf. His suits do a good job of masking his strength, but out of them, he looks nearly as big as Malachi. He also has little dimples at the top of his ass that, despite myself, I want to lick. As much as I’d like to blame the bond for that, the truth is that I found this asshole attractive even before the night the bond snapped into place.
He steps out the doors and there’s—I’m not sure how to explain it—a ripple, almost. As if reality gives a little shudder, a tiny tear, and then Rylan is gone and a giant black bird perches on the balcony in his place. A flap of its massive wings and he’s gone, flinging himself out into the darkness.
He’s moving quickly in the opposite direction Malachi is coming from, putting miles between us with ease. I feel each one like a nail driven into my chest. I hate it. I want him gone, but the more distance he puts between us, the greater the urge to demand he return.