Page 43 of Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren #4)

I stare deep in his blue eyes, needing to see his reaction for myself.

He stands tall, familiar, and striking, the wind whipping his shaggy dark hair around his ears.

He digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched in a T-shirt to ward off the cold.

Stylish and pleasant where Ice is hard-edged.

Compelling. They represent two different worlds.

Night and day. Neither is good nor bad…just different.

“We can help magickind,” he says finally. “We can ward off the biggest threat to peace and security in two centuries.”

“What about your heart?” I look at him with pleading eyes, begging him to understand, to give me his honesty.

He tugs one of his hands from his pockets and captures a wet curl skimming my cheek between his thumb and fingers. He holds the skeins in his fingers, rubbing them together for a pregnant moment. An awareness I’ve never seen from him fills his gaze. I suck in a gasp of surprise.

“When I told you that last night at Bram’s house that I remembered a bit about being with you, I wasn’t completely honest. I remember much more.”

The fact shines in his darkening eyes, stunning me.

I shrug off his touch. “I remember, too. I know how many times you cried out for Anka. You don’t love me.”

He leans closer, forcing me to meet his stare. “How many times did I call out for Anka the very last time?”

I think back, and the answer stuns me.

“Not once,” he supplies. “I knew it was you.”

And that was the only time I orgasmed with him.

Lucan takes my trembling hands in his. “We’ve always been friends, got on well together. I won’t lie and tell you I don’t desire you. Since I emerged from my mate mourning, you’ve…been on my mind.”

Oh, my … I cover my mouth with freezing fingers to stifle a gasp. My brother’s best friend, in lust with me?

“But you still love Anka.”

Bitterness crosses his pained expression, hardens his clenched jaw.

“She isn’t coming back. She’s moved on, and I need to do the same.

To mate with someone I consider most dear for such a necessary cause, to have such a sparkling, intelligent female with whom I share a great many interests, would be no hardship. ”

He’s serious. Although this grand plan is Bram’s, Lucan seems perfectly willing to play along.

And it isn’t because he covets a Council seat; I know that.

While Ice, if I mate with him…doesn’t he win in every way?

I will both destroy my relationship with my brother, thus losing him a sister, and Ice will improve his own connections potentially for a Council position.

A union between Lucan and me sounds perfectly logical and reasonable. I will mate with someone I’ve long considered a friend, and Ice won’t benefit from being less than honest with me. If he actually was.

Ugh, nothing feels right. My brain scrambles, my insides tremble with helpless fury. And my heart continues to want the untamed, unsuitable wizard who stole it. I yearn to throw duty and politics aside. But how many people will die simply because I ache to follow my heart?

“You’re hesitating,” Lucan points out.

Isn’t it obvious why? “You have no instinct to mate with me.”

“That doesn’t make the words any less binding, Sabelle. You’ve long known Bram would arrange a political mating for you. But Ice… If you believe nothing I’ve said, believe that he likely has many reasons to make you his mate, none of which have anything to do with love or instinct.”

Though ugly, it’s quite possible he’s right. After all, Ice kept the truth about his past from me.

“With a long friendship to build on, we could do worse, sweetheart.” He cups my cheek. “But this isn’t about us; it’s about all the lives we’ll be saving.”

That’s the one truth I can’t argue against. Bram needs to nominate someone for the Council quickly to compete against Mathias. Of all Bram’s allies, Lucan has one of the better claims to a seat through his uncle.

Even if Ice genuinely loves me, and God knows I love him, nothing can change the fact that magickind needs me to mate with the next wizard who occupies MacKinnett’s seat. It was a fairy tale to think otherwise.

The reality fills me with a helpless rage.

“Sabelle.” Lucan cups my face in his hands, and the sting of his warmth against my cheeks zips my gaze up to his blue, blue eyes. “I will be good to you. Always.”

Lucan leans closer, erasing half the space between us, his lids half-closed. He wants to kiss me. He’s waiting for a sign from me.

I swallow. Could I truly mate with Lucan? Share intimacies with him when I’m no longer focused on providing healing energy?

Clutching his forearms, I gulp and raise my chin a fraction, tilting my face toward his. Could I let myself be with him? Could I honestly give myself to Lucan as a mate?

I need to know if I can make this work—if duty will be enough since love isn’t possible.

Shivering, I lean closer. Exhale. Lucan’s mouth brushes mine, soft, lingering…

coaxing. I’ve never experienced this side of Lucan, the lover.

When I provided him energy during his mate mourning, he always demanded, taking me greedily.

Now, everything about his kiss cajoles and persuades.

The urgency is all in the finesse, and I’d be lying if I claimed I’m oblivious to his touch.

In fact, he rouses a gentle desire as he dips deeper into my mouth, sharing the flavor of coffee and nascent longing on his tongue.

But he doesn’t scorch me, doesn’t make me ache and claw and beg for him to strip me down and get deep inside me.

It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. This isn’t awful or torturous. Lucan and I might save magickind from genocide. Bram will have no reason to disclaim me. And if Ice has been lying, I’ll prevent him from using me for vengeance…and breaking my heart.

I ease from the kiss, eyes closed, and bow my head. “Speak the words, and I will Bind to you.”

And break my own heart. For as pleasant as the kiss was, I know I’ll never love Lucan. And he’ll never love me.

“You’ve been through a lot. I’ll give you a bit more time,” Lucan murmurs. “Tomorrow?”

So bloody soon? Yet I know we have no time to spare. Mathias will succeed with his nefarious plan if Bram doesn’t reach the others of the Council quickly and give them a compelling reason to nominate Lucan.

“All right.”

“No!” a male roars, sharp with outrage and pain.

I turn to find Ice barreling toward me, his ground-eating steps and furious eyes both shouting possession.

“Back off,” Lucan warns, reaching for me.

Ice grabs my wrist first and drags me closer. “Fuck off.”

His touch explodes a thousand conflicting emotions inside me: need, duty, love, anger, desire, determination. They flash through me like a strobe light, fast and blinding—everything I’ve been trying to suppress, everything I need to deny myself.

Then the chilly drizzle of Sterling’s garden is gone, replaced by a bedroom housed in, of all things, a cave. A sprawling bed with mussed black sheets, sparse furniture, no windows. Utilitarian. Bleak. Cold.

Oh, god. Ice just teleported me to his bedroom.