Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Rogue

T he bed is beyond comfortable, but I struggle to fall asleep deeply. I didn’t lie down until after four, and at some time mid-morning, the blinds in my bedroom open.

Light fills the room, waking me out of my slumber.

I pull a pillow over my face and do my best to fall back asleep, but the bed’s firmness increases until I feel like I’m sleeping on bricks. This leads to a very cranky version of myself crawling from beneath the blanket.

I shower, dress with what’s provided from the armoire, and check my phone.

Gemma texted from Veryn’s phone only a few minutes ago. The trip to collect clothes and things from Ember’s house must have taken much longer than she anticipated since it’s just after ten a.m.

I’m not surprised, though.

Ember’s family is insanely protective—maybe even more so than my family pack. However, Ember has to prove to the wolves that she can defend her claim on her own. If she doesn’t, someone will challenge her.

I’m sure Veryn will get through to her family and make sure they understand the circumstances she’s dealing with.

I text Gemma, letting her know I’m fine and still working the case, but leave out all the details about finding Calyx and the house.

I’m not surprised when my phone rings thirty seconds after I send the text, and I roll my shoulders back in preparation for the fight I know is coming.

She’s going to want to siphon to me as soon as she’s done with Veryn and Ember. It’s not only my magic, but also something deep inside me that’s uncomfortable with that thought.

Much like Ember has to prove her ability to rule the North American Pack, it feels a lot like this case is my chance to prove that I’m a capable adult.

I exhale heavily and answer the call.

By the time I’ve assured my sister I’m fine for the hundredth time, as well as fielded about a million questions about the, in her words, off the charts chemistry between me and a certain warlock, it’s almost eleven.

I check my appearance one final time in the mirror over the vanity and take note of how rundown I’m feeling.

Usually I wake refreshed, no matter how many hours I sleep a night. I’ve always considered it a perk of my fae lineage, but there are dark circles under my eyes that seem to indicate I could have used a few more hours to rest.

Exiting the room, I aim for the stairs while contemplating if what Calyx said could be true.

Is the house feeding off my magic?

If so, could that be what has me feeling like a human after an alcohol bender? Even when I’ve had human beer or wine on occasion, it hasn’t affected my system at all. Fae spring wine is much more potent and would impact my system more heavily, but I’ve always avoided it.

I prefer to be in control of myself and my faculties.

After one wrong turn, I find the kitchen, the smell of food cooking an excellent guide.

I come around the corner and stop dead in my tracks.

Cohen is at the stove, flipping something in a pan. He’s only in low-slung sweatpants, and every move shows off his lithely muscled back. He even has those sexy dimples just above his ass.

I lean against the doorframe as he steps to the side and grabs a plate.

Replays of our amazing kiss flit through my mind, and I lick my lips as I recall the way he pressed me against the wall.

An uncalled for jolt of arousal rips through my system. My nipples tighten as my clit pulses, and my lower stomach throbs. It’s so unexpected that I pull a hand to my pelvis, pushing back against the discomfort.

The stove being in use must have ratcheted up the temperature in the kitchen. Sweat beads on my forehead and between my breasts.

The overwhelming urge to tackle Cohen washes over me from nowhere, and my hand digs into the wood framing the doorway to keep myself from pouncing.

What the hell is going on?

I haven’t the first idea, but I don’t get to ponder it for very long.

The warlock senses my presence, and he spins around, offering a welcoming smile.

“Good morning,” he says cheerily. “I made pancakes and hash browns. Do you eat meat? Most fae are vegetarians, at least from what I’ve heard.

” He doesn’t have bulging muscles like a shifter would, but his chest and abs are as well-defined as his back, and my mouth waters with the urge to lick the curves of his abs and obliques. “Rogue?”

The spatula lands against the plate with a clack .

Cohen spins toward me and strides across the room, studying my face as he moves. “Your eyes are red. Are you feeling okay?”

It gets hard to breathe the closer he gets, and by the time he comes to a stop in front of me, my chest rises and falls with rapid pants.

He brushes the backs of his fingers over my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Did you not sleep well?”

I swallow thickly, mesmerized by his blue eyes. They’re so expressive, and even his thick glasses can’t distract from that. “I slept okay, but I woke up feeling worn down. Was what Calyx said about the house accurate? Could it be draining my magic?”

Cohen’s hand moves to my forehead, and his brow furrows even more deeply.

“Even if it is, that should be a symbiotic relationship. It shouldn’t have negative effects on your health.

That would only encourage you to distance yourself from it.

” He steps back, glancing over his shoulder at the stove.

“I need to turn down the burners, but give me a minute, and I’ll find Calyx.

He’s out allowing Dusk to scent the property.

” He moves closer once more and grabs my hands.

“Have a seat. I can get you some juice. Maybe you’re experiencing low blood sugar? ”

His concern makes me smile, even though the thought is illogical. I don’t suffer from the same ailments a human would, but knowing he cares makes my insides light up as he guides me to the table.

I’ve never had a man look after me before, but I think I like it.

The giant gray wolf that trots in after Calyx takes my breath away. Even more than with Ash, just looking at Dusk proves he’s something unnatural. His eyes are bright white, and there’s an intelligence behind them that would normally lead me to believe that he’s a shifter.

“Dusk is a dire wolf,” Calyx says, coming to a stop in front of the chair I’m sitting in.

Cohen beelines toward the stove while the wolf clacks across the tile floor, aiming for me. His upper lip pulls back as he licks his impressive teeth, and I scoot deeper into the chair like I can will it to make more space for me.

Calyx chuckles. “He’s powered by my magic. While he is a temperamental fuck, he’s not going to hurt you. In fact, he’s quite jealous Ash got the first introduction.” His cool hands settle on my face, and he turns my gaze until my eyes meet his. “Now, tell me. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m okay.” I shrug. “I’m a little fatigued. My eyes burn, and I think I might be running a slight temperature. I’ve never been sick a day in my life. Does this have something to do with the house?”

Dusk sits next to my chair and places his massive head in my lap.

My magic pulses in delight, spilling from my skin to greet the dire wolf, but I can’t look away from Calyx.

“I don’t believe so.” His gray eyes glowing, the lich leans closer as his nostrils flare.

“Hmm, you smell sweeter than I remember from last night, and your skin is warm to the touch. When is your quickening to be expected?” His messy black hair falls around his face as he stares up at me from where he’s squatting.

My teeth dig into my lower lip as my head shakes.

That can’t be it.

Fae have a period of hyper fertility, very much like when a shifter goes into heat. It’s called the quickening, and it’s a very intimate time in a female fae’s life. We build safe places called nests and fill them with soft fabrics, pillows, and our chosen partners or mates.

Our bodies release a special type of pheromone that bonds us even more deeply to our partners.

The entire goal is to help aid in conception, and it doesn’t start until the fae is between eighty and one hundred years old.

I’m nowhere close to that.

If the quickening doesn’t end in conception, the fae experiences a week of bleeding similar to how human women have menstruation. During that time, the fae’s partners will look after and care for her as she recuperates.

“How soon do you expect your quickening?” Calyx asks, studying me carefully.

“I don’t know.” I scoff. “Like another sixty or eighty years. I’m nowhere close to the age when it normally begins.”

“Gods.” Calyx’s mouth opens and closes several times as his head tilts. “Right now, I am greatly questioning the universe’s decision-making abilities.”

“I’m of age.” I frown, slap his hands away from my face, and cross my arms. “Time moves differently here than it does in Faere. I grew much more rapidly than fledglings do in the fae realm. My parents decided they would consider adulthood as the humans do for me and my siblings. I’m over eighteen.

” I leave out the part mentioning I’ve only been for a year and a half.

“Yes, well,” Calyx says with a snort, “far be it from me to go against fate’s wishes.”

Cohen walks to the table with plates of food in each hand. He drops one next to me on the table and places the other down before stepping around Dusk. Pulling out the chair adjacent to mine, he takes a seat. “Do you know what it could be if it’s not her quickening?”

The massive dire wolf lifts his head from my lap and sniffs at the food Cohen just put down.

Calyx pats my thigh and stands. “The sithen has a direct connection to the magic of Faere. We’re quite literally in the veil between realms here.

The house draws on the essence of the tree of souls in Faere to anchor it in the fae realm, and it will have some connection to whatever deep magic anchors the human realm.

” He shrugs, heading to the stove. “Don’t ask me what that magic source is.

I truly don’t know. The human realm is much more removed from its roots than the fae or demon realms.” He grabs a pancake and takes a bite.

“I’m guessing the one-two punch of meeting your fated mate and having a mainline connection to the power of Faere has jump-started your fae genetics. ”

My jaw falls.

I haven’t even let myself focus on the insanity he spewed last night, but I do feel some deep connection to both Calyx and Cohen.

The thought sparks an image of Owen, and my stomach twists in knots.

I’ve had kind of an unhealthy crush on him for as long as I can remember, and some piece of me always wondered if he could be my mate.

He’s treated me as nothing more than an employee.

He puts up with me because he’s friends with my dad, but my heart would never let me give up hope that all of that might change one day.

And that line of thinking brings back the realization… I have a case to solve.

Calyx is still wanted by the paranormal council. His phylactery is still missing. And I still think Delta is a snake, who could have more to do with both than any of us know.

“I need to go to work,” I say, exhaling heavily. “I have to talk to my boss and see if I can gain extra information about why the council is after you.”

Cohen drops his fork and frowns. “That seems dangerous. You’re not feeling yourself, and we can’t go with you.”

“Well, I could,” Calyx says, accentuating the word. “Not in my current form, but I can locate a vessel with little trouble.”

“I have no idea what that means,” I mutter, though he likely already knows that.

“Necromancer, princess.” Calyx’s gray eyes sparkle mischievously as he points at his chest. “I can take over any form that I reanimate.”

I can feel my eyes bug. “I don’t think I’m ready to see all that, but I’ll be safe at Owen’s. I just have no idea how I’ll get there.”

Cohen puts his glass back on the table. “Don’t worry. We can help with that.”