I close the door behind me and sigh, feeling as if I'd just fed Tonya to the very beasts she fears. "Thank you," Tyler tells me, gaining my attention. I force a small smile at him, not quite feeling deserving of praise. "I've been wantin' to do that for quite some time." He squeezes Helen who seems to mirror my concern.
Why did I meddle? Why didn't I leave it alone?
"Baby girl, we can finally be free of your parents-"
Helen slips out of his grasp, wrapping her arms around herself. I know too well, that abuse comes in many different shapes and sizes, this family might not fit the standard of what one would consider an abuse case but the emotional toll of an oppressive member is a familiar one.
It doesn't have to come in the form of beatings, screaming, and broken objects. It can present in broken people, so shut down that being without the voice of reason is terrifying. "I don't want to be without them." She tells him firmly. "I just want them to see me for who I am. I don't want them to hate me."
Rhea's expression tells me that maybe I've gone too far. "We've been working on this situation for a while." Her voice is low. "Legardo is troubled... "
"It's not an excuse," I tell her, not wanting to whisper, not wanting to talk about this family as if they aren't here. "They have lives, too. You have a life, Helen. You don't have to be this way."
Her light eyes flick up at me, wide and uncertain. Perhaps that wasn't the best way to phrase it.
"You don't have to be so afraid, you can control this part of you and I think you'll find some inner strength with it."
She glances towards the ground, shuffling uncomfortably. "History states that Verando killed your father."
Yes. But that was on purpose. As much as I don't like to think about it, Verando was who he was totally on his own.
"The decisions a select few make don't define an entire species. Lycans were created to serve, to protect, it is the good in them and their close sense of family that led my father to do what he did. There are bad people but that doesn't make us any less human.
If there is anything my time should have taught you it is the value of that wolf."
Rhea doesn't look so convinced, she dismisses herself and I take my leave to go to the kitchen and grab a snack, wanting to drown my anger in something sweet and decadent. Out of all the attributes his father could have given him, why didn't Gary gain any of the good sides?
He seemed like a mixture of vices and frankly, I had only enough patience for one asshole in my life.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? It wasn't my life he was in, it was theirs and I had just made it worse. I grumble as I walk, this new compound was similar to the old one but the subtle changes in layout had me backtracking.
Finally, I find the pristine kitchen and open the door to the refrigerator, grabbing a chilled slice of cake. All of this technology and still humanity found a way to kill each other, to dig its own grave so soundly that it needs to go back in time to save itself.
I stab the dark piece and take an annoyed bite, sighing at the flavor. At least the man's a good cook.
Why was I bothering?
Did my want for children go as far as to help someone else with their own?
I take another bite, stabbing the cake with increasing satisfaction. For now, that portion of me was satisfied. I don't even care for Helen, so why was I helping her?
Convincing myself that it was actually Tyler I wanted to assist, I fetch the jug of milk and stretch on my toes to reach for a glass. My side twinges, and I scurry up onto the counter, on my knees, to snag the offending cup from its shelf. I hear a click and when I turn around, I see Verando is holding up a small device.
"What's that?" I ask half-heartedly, reminded that his 'progeny' has been a thorn in my side since we arrived here. Maybe I didn't want a pale-haired girl, maybe adopting was my only way out of this destructive cycle.
He tilts it from side to side, inspecting it, "Marcello calls it a camera? Well. A tablet, I should say. It has a camera on it. Hell, if I know, but it will take a picture. Look." He turns it around to show me and I'm shocked at how it's captured my likeness in only moments, I'm kneeling on the counter from behind in full reach.
"Oh, hell! Don't keep that!" I attempt to snag it but he holds it high out of my reach.
"Why not? I like it."
"I look a mess! I've just come from a meeting, and I'm all frazzled; these clothes are so... not... what I'm used to." I sigh at the shirt and jeans, plucking at the thin material. "Must you keep it?"
He thinks it over, watching the picture before nodding. "Yes. It won't go on our wall or anything, but this device keeps these, to look at again. It'd be nice to do that."
I snatch it from his hands and insist that he show me how it works. As the little camera icon appears, I tap it and see that it mirrors the view in front of me. Holding it up, I snap a picture of him and spin it around to show him.
"There! Now, do you want to keep my picture?" I ask him triumphantly.
He shrugs, unimpressed. "Yes." My face falls, and I exhale at him in frustration, turning it back around to look at it. Of course, he doesn't mind, even off guard, he looks handsome. A little surprised, but it's the first time this evening I've actually looked at him.
He hadn't shaved in a few days, his tangled hair in a disorderly fashion from his session with Marcello, his glistening skin and lycra t-shirt and shorts. I make a face; I want to keep this too.
"Alright, I do see the appeal. You didn't have to look so delectable." I hand it back to return to my cake, taking a bite to sulk on as I savor the sweet taste.
"You said you had a meeting? With whom?" The question makes me swallow hard, and I hesitate. I don't know if I want to talk about it, I haven't even finished thinking about how I feel about it. I realize I'm shaking my head as I set my jaw, my body giving away my feelings on the matter.
"That good, hmm?" He extends his hand, snagging a finger of frosting to taste.
I lean back against the counter as he comes around the island to stand before me, "Your child is an ass."
"Which one?" He takes my fork, takes a bite, and looks as if he's uncertain if he likes it or not.
"Are you going to analyze cake?"
"I don't like how it gets stuck in my teeth... how do you eat this? It would take me hours."
I remove my fork from the unappreciative man and take a more extensive than necessary section, downing it if nothing more than for spite. "Gary," I grumble behind my hand. Swallow, I fill my glass of milk and take a drink before offering it to him. "Rinse, you prude."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to decide how to explain it.
"He's lying to everyone, pretending to be something he's not. He doesn't want Helen to be what she is; he's horrible to Tonya..." I see his expression changing, and I know he's not on my side as he sips the milk. "Nobody asked you."
"Did they ask you?"
"What are you, my mother?!" I demand, taking back the glass as he shrugs innocently. "They did! In a sense, I told them my plan, and they needed to get with the program or just let me do what I needed to do. I can secure my own funding, and I can make this happen on my own without them, but it'd be nice to have the backup. I just can't have them at each other's throats like this, it's driving me mad."
Verando watches me, waiting for me to finish as he takes it all in. "You know, I could have killed a lot of my adversaries on my own but holding the position and progressing after the battle is won is how you win the war. A king is not much of a king without his subjects, while we might not like how someone is living their lives, our jobs are more to make sure they follow orders than to make sure they're happy. You can't insist people be happy, Nic."
I can't help but narrow my eyes at him.
It's his family! He should be interested in their happiness!
Sensing my building anger, he cautiously slides out of my reach. "Convince them your plan is a good one, get them busy; you'd be surprised how quickly tired people run out of things to argue about. Does that help?"
I cross my arms over my chest, mulling it over. In a way, I suppose it makes sense, but then I pause as I think it over. "Hey! You're doing that to me right now! Keeping me busy, so I stop meddling!"
He smirked, and I shook my head at him in exasperation.
"You're such a control freak!" The conclusion always manages to sneak up on me, yet he flashes me my favorite look that has become so scarce. He is dominant, after all. After having so little of him these few months, the very thought makes my heart lurch into overdrive.
The look sends me over the edge, spiking my starved libido as I reach to slip my fingers into the hem of his shorts. The smell of some type of cologne mixed with masculine exertion is enough to make my mouth water, a thought that I'm only slightly ashamed of. "So.. how have your workouts been going?"
He watches me with a concern that lets me know he's onto me. He'd cut me off with my injuries, but I'm feeling particularly in need this evening. "Marcello is very good; this place has a lot of equipment that is very different from what I'm used to. I'm very sore, actually."
I think about his lack of movement, he had been really still though it wasn't as though he was the more animated person.
"It's difficult, but it's good, I feel like a damned fledgling, but I can tell I'm getting stronger. The man's a beast."
My fingers slide up to expose the abdominals, and I warn him with my eyes as I grasp the hem of his shirt.
"Nic..." He sighs, but I respond by putting the hem in his mouth.
"Bite," I tell him, capturing my own lower lip between my teeth. After what seems like an eternity, he obeys, and I marvel at the man before me. I start at his sternum, kissing my way down until I reach his nipple. His body shudders under my lips, and I know he's struggling just as badly as I am.
Straightening, I grab a small chunk of the cake in my hand and smear it haphazardly over his abdominals. "Oops.." I chuckle, watching him through my lashes as I kiss and run my tongue over the sweet substance. "Looks like you need a bath." I tease as his hips flex against me.
I take my time, savoring it, and when I feel like he cannot take it anymore, I can see the fruits of my labor so clearly outlined in the compression shorts. I slip away to grab the tablet and snap the picture. I swallow hard; it's enough to be my undoing on its own, and now I have it in my possession.
"Delete it." The voice is dark, and he's before me; I gasp, quickly shoving the tablet behind my back. He leans in on me, one hand on either side of my body to trap me against the counter.
"I have terms!" I manage quickly; my body aches for him to touch me, and I surrender my neck to him. "I need compensation if you'd like the picture back."
"Are you blackmailing me?"
I nod with a wicked grin.
"Nic, you're hurt."
I groan, sliding my knee between his thighs to grind against him.
"I told you I wanted you to heal first."
My arms slide around his neck, and I pull him down to me, hoving my lips over his. I shiver as he evades me, his stubble doing delicious things to my overly-charged body as he skirts over my neck. I tilt my head back, pleading for contact.
My hands find his hair, tugging at the roots. I don't have to speak; I can hear his resolve cracking. He pulls me up onto his body, and I wrap my legs around his waist, only to giggle at the wince and profuse cursing as he allows me to slide back down. "I really am sore, darling."
Dragging him back to our room, I lock the door as I pull off my clothes, and move to the nightstand as he wriggles out of the clingy material. Impatiently, I attack him, yanking the shirt up over his head as I tackle him back onto the bed.
"So much for foreplay." He chuckles at my enthusiasm as I scramble for the nightstand and grab the lubricant.
"I have wanted you so badly these past months, and I've hardly had you," I tell him firmly, shoving his shorts down as I straddle him. "I don't need a reason to want my husband, do I?" I apply it to him as I lower myself onto him.
Groaning at the sensation, he rests his hands on my hips and flexes against me.
"I just want to take out all this frustration. I want to properly thank you for saving my life - again." I move, rocking against him, resting my hands on his chest. "Maybe a piece of me wants to remind you who you belong to, remind me who I belong to."
I rake my fingers against his skin as he writhes beneath me, completely taken by this gorgeous man beneath me. There was a time when I wouldn't have wanted him to see me, not with these injuries, not in such an odd state mentally.
There was a time when we would have taken it out on each other. I find that I don't need to forget; I need to reconnect. When I finally meet his gaze, I find he's watching me, and I straighten as I realize I want him to.
"Look over your shoulder. I want you to watch." He demands.
I obediently do as I'm told and swallow when I see the full-length mirror positioned perfectly behind me. His hands hold my hips firmly, moving against me as I quicken. "You know who you belong to. You can see what I see, exactly what you do to me, and how badly I want you."
I bite my lower lip, stifling the moan as I climb.
"I want you to remember this: I don't need a picture to know exactly what you look like when you're submitting to me. When you're coming undone under my fingers."
"Randy!" I plead, writhing under the relentless pace. The view is too much, pushing me over the edge. My finish is his undoing, and he follows closely behind me. My entire body shakes as I ride out the waves, panting hard as I rest my hands on his chest. He watches me, entranced, it would seem.
Those light eyes could bore into my very soul. I lean down to kiss him, not wanting to move just yet as I lay on his chest.
"That was new." My mind is still reeling from the lude nature of it all. Watching it felt so wrong, yet it took me to another level of excitement. I claim his lips with my own, kissing him until I'm breathless and must choose life.
He kisses my forehead as I settle, attempting to catch my breath, shutting my eyes as I bask in the afterglow. "It's one of my favorites. We've just not had much access to a mirror. You look so beautiful when you're on the edge; I wanted you to see it."
I flush, wrinkling my nose at the sentiment as I hide against his chest.
"Funny." Me. Beautiful. I know it's not a joke; I know how he sees me, but accepting it as a title for myself was a different concept.
Verando squeezes me, reaching to catch my chin and tilt my gaze to catch his eyes. "Don't doubt my vision of you; I'm not the only one who sees it." It reminds me that Tonic had been somewhat infatuated. That was another issue altogether. I'll take the compliment and deal with the rest of this in the morning.