Page 114 of Contested Crown

“Miles,” he said quietly. “I would never do anything to put you in danger.”

He raised his hand, cupping my cheek. His eyes said what he couldn’t make himself say. I meant too much to him to endanger me.

“Okay,” I said.

Putting his hand on my chest, Cade said, “I gift you this magic. It is yours.”

It settled into me, seeping into my skin, into my bones. I trembled with the intensity of it.

“I can’t shift without your magic,” I said quietly.

“And without you, I have none.” Cade looked up at me. He stroked my cheek again. “Without you, I have nothing. I’m not even a true mage.”

“No,” I said. “That’s not true.”

“It feels true,” Cade said. “You’re the only one who sees me as a potential king, and I seeyou. I wasn’t lying. You should be Emperor Wolf. It suits you.Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Cade looked down, then up, glancing at me through his eyelashes. “I guess we’re tied together now.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ran my thumb over his cheekbone.

“No.” Cade shook his head. “No. But it means that now we both have something to lose.”

“Or something to protect,” I said.

Cade swallowed, and then his lips twitched into a small smile. “Or something to protect.”

The way he said it, there was something under the surface, something he couldn’t make himself say, and I was too cowardly to drag it out of him. Instead, I pulled him in for a kiss and told myself it was enough.

ChapterThirty-Seven

Cade stared at the bed, then back at me, then returned his gaze to the massive bed.

“Explain to me again why we didn’t come here immediately?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Well, to start, we weren’t in Los Santos. Also, we weren’t sure what Declan was doing. For all we knew, he was still using this place every other weekend, with a girl living here.”

But Cade wasn’t wrong. The appeal of the bed, soft sheets, fluffy pillows, everything clean in anticipation of the next girl Declan took a shine to, was undeniable.

Cade started toward the bed, then hesitated. “Itisclean, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “A cleaning crew comes through whenever Declan’s girlfriend leaves.”

With that affirmation, Cade threw himself on the bed, rolling around on the soft down comforter and burying his face in a pillow. I watched him for a moment, something so strange about seeing him enjoying something after so many weeks of despondency and anger. Even House Morrison’s luxury hadn’t been anything more than a prison cell with high thread count sheets.

I approached the bed and lay down. My body relaxed in increments, each muscle going slack as, for the first time since we had left House Bartlett, I felt free.

After he had luxuriated for a few minutes, Cade sat up, crossing his legs on the bed and looking at me.

He had left his shirt off, hanging it over a nearby chair, and I could see a swirl of tattoo marking his skin.

I knew it matched what was on my own chest, the lines of dark ink that shifted slowly.

On him, it moved faster, as though the beat of his heart was the music it danced to.

“Where do we find Declan?” Cade asked.