Page 9 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

Heart pounding, Lily moved to the side of the bed. Blade sat beside her, his back against the headboard, legs stretched out atop the covers. After a moment's hesitation, he lifted his arm in invitation.

She hesitated only briefly before curling against his side, her head resting on his chest. His arm came down around her, warm and secure. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear was the most soothing sound she'd ever heard.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low rumble she could feel through his chest.

"Mmm," she murmured in agreement, already feeling herself begin to relax.

“Who is this?” He reached behind the pillow and grabbed the stuffed animals and handed them to her.

She held them tightly in her arms. As she cuddled them, his large hand began to stroke her hair, gentle rhythmic motions that made her eyelids grow heavy.

It had been so long since anyone had touched her with such tenderness.

So long since she'd felt safe enough to let her guard down.

"Sleep, baby girl," he murmured. "I've got you."

The endearment washed over her like a warm wave, breaking down the last of her resistance. She let her eyes close, surrendering to the comfort of his presence.

Just before sleep claimed her, she felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. So light she might have imagined it.

Lily woke slowly, awareness returning in gradual waves. The first thing she noticed was warmth. The second was a steady rhythm beneath her ear, a heartbeat. And the third was the unmistakable scent of man; soap, leather, and something distinctly male.

Blade.

She kept her eyes closed, savoring the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply, so peacefully. No nightmares. No jerking awake at every sound. Just... rest.

His chest rose and fell evenly beneath her cheek.

Still asleep, then. She risked opening her eyes to peer up at him.

In sleep, his face had lost some of its hardness.

The perpetual vigilance that tightened his features was temporarily eased, making him look younger.

More vulnerable. Long dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his full lips were slightly parted.

He was handsome. Dangerously so.

As if sensing her scrutiny, his eyes fluttered open, immediately alert. His gaze locked with hers, and for a breathless moment, neither moved.

"Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," she replied, suddenly acutely aware of their position. Her body was draped half across his, her leg thrown over his thigh, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "Sorry, I didn't mean to use you as a pillow all night."

His lips quirked. "You apologizing for sleeping well? Because I'm pretty sure that breaks rule one."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "I did sleep well. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He made no move to disentangle himself from her, and she found she wasn't in any hurry to move either.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting golden patterns on the bed. It felt... right, somehow. As if they'd woken up together countless times before.

Which was a dangerous thought. Because this wasn't real. This wasn't her life. It was a temporary arrangement born of necessity and danger.

As if on cue, Blade's phone buzzed on the nightstand. The real-world intruding.

With a sigh, he reached for it, checking the message. His expression darkened immediately.

"What is it?" she asked, pushing herself upright.

"Update from Savage," he replied, his voice returning to its usual clipped efficiency. "They found more of Tim. Another finger on the clubhouse steps."

Her stomach lurched. "With a message?"

He nodded grimly. "'Day by day, piece by piece.' They're drawing it out. Making a show of it."

Bile rose in her throat. The brief peace of the morning shattered like glass. "They're torturing him because of me."

"No," Blade said firmly, sitting up fully and taking her face in his hands.

"They're torturing him because they're sadistic bastards. Because he betrayed them. He’s an adult with choices.

He could have walked away. Gone to the cops.

Got his family into protective custody. He had options.

None of this is on you, Lily. Remember that. "

She wanted to believe him. Desperately wanted to absolve herself of the guilt. But how could she, when Tim's suffering was so directly linked to his choice to help her?

"What else did Savage say?" she asked, trying to focus on details, on facts, rather than the horrific images her mind was conjuring.

Blade hesitated, clearly debating how much to share.

"All of it," she insisted. "I need to know."

He sighed. "They're closing in on the mole. Savage thinks it might be Hammer. He transferred from another chapter, they’d vetted him, and we trusted their intel.

He joined recently as one of our enforcers.

He's been making a lot of cash withdrawals lately, taking calls in private. Could be nothing, but..."

"But it's suspicious," she finished for him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Savage is going to try to plant one of those trackers on him today. See where he goes."

"And what about us?" she asked. "What's our next move?"

"For now, we stay put," Blade decided. "The cabin is secure. Moving you might be exactly what they want." He paused, then added, "Savage also sent some... intelligence they've gathered about you."

Her breath caught. "What kind of intelligence?"

"The Rejects have been talking. Word is, Zeb wants you brought to him alive. He's got... specific plans for you."

The implication hung heavy in the air. Lily's skin crawled at the thought.

"He wants to make an example of me," she guessed, her voice surprisingly steady despite the terror churning in her gut.

Blade nodded, his expression grim. "Public punishment. He wants the club to know what happens to those who betray him."

"Like Tim," she whispered.

"Yeah," Blade confirmed softly. "Like Tim."

Lily took a deep breath, forcing down the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Fear wouldn't help her now. Only clear thinking and preparation would.

"Then we need to be ready," she said firmly. "For whatever comes."

Blade studied her face, something like pride flickering in his eyes. "We will be," he promised. "I won't let him get to you, Lily."

"I know," she said, and was surprised to realize she meant it. Despite everything, she trusted this man. Trusted him with her life. With more than that, if she was being honest with herself.

Which was terrifying in its own way.

He checked his watch. "I need to check the perimeter, make sure our security measures are still in place. You going to be okay for a bit?"

She nodded. "I'll make breakfast."

"Your ankle?—"

"Is much better today," she interrupted. "And I need to do something useful. Please. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m not good at being little all the time… I’m not like the other girls."

“You don’t have to be like anyone but you, baby.”

“I’m little when I need to be, when I can be… I don’t think I could live a life like Mia or Savannah and be little all the time and let you just take care of me and do all the things.”

He studied her for a minute. “Each couple’s dynamics are different, sweetheart.

We will find our own rhythm eventually. When the crisis vanishes.

Maybe, you haven’t been given the chance to fully submerge yourself in the lifestyle.

But, even if you can’t. That’s okay. We will find what works for us. ”

“I can’t sit here and do nothing, Blade. I need to… to… do. Do something.”

He seemed to understand her need to feel productive, to maintain some semblance of control. "Alright. But take it easy."

"Yes, sir," she said, offering a mock salute.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Brat," he murmured, but there was affection in his tone.

As he left to secure the property, Lily made her way to the kitchen, determined to prepare something substantial for breakfast. Her mind, however, kept returning to the events of the previous night.

To the feeling of safety in Blade's arms. To the gentle kiss he'd pressed to her hair when he thought she was asleep.

This growing connection between them was dangerous. She knew that. Attachment in a crisis was a recipe for disaster. Trauma bonding, they called it. Not real feelings, just a survival mechanism.

But it felt real. It felt more real than anything had in a very long time.

She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Simple things she could control while the world outside spiraled into chaos.

By the time Blade returned, she had a decent breakfast laid out on the table. Nothing fancy, but hot and filling.

"Perimeter's clear," he reported, washing his hands at the sink. "Motion sensors are all active. No signs of disturbance overnight."

"Good," she said, placing a mug of coffee in front of him as he sat down. "Though I can't decide if that's reassuring or just makes the waiting worse."

"Both," he admitted, taking a sip of coffee. "But I'd rather wait on our terms than be caught off guard."

They ate in companionable silence for a while, the simple domesticity of sharing a meal creating an illusion of normalcy.

She allowed herself to think about what life with Blade would be like.

What it would look like. Would they act like a regular vanilla couple?

Sitting at the table and eating like this?

Or would he pull her onto his lap and feed her small cut up pieces of food, while she drank her milk out of the pretty purple Sippy cup hidden away in the drawer in the room she was staying in?

Would he let her cook, or would he tell her littles don’t use sharp knives?

"Your ankle looks better," Blade interrupted her thoughts, nodding toward her foot. "Less swelling."

"The antibiotics must be working," she agreed. "It hardly hurts at all today."