Page 23 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

T hat evening, I couldn’t sleep. When I ventured downstairs, I noticed a light in the back hall coming from the library’s rear exit. Lucian often wandered around late at night. Not wanting to disturb him, I entered the kitchen and munched on a few grapes.

With anyone else, it would have been too late for a visit, but Atticus didn’t sleep. Wearing my white nightgown and slippers, I headed to the heat house. An owl hooted in a nearby tree, and in the distance, it sounded like Archer’s wolf howling.

I squealed at a burst of cold wind as I hurried toward the wooden cabin off to the right. Before I reached it, Atticus swung open the door.

“Inside. Hurry,” he said while guiding me in. Before I could speak, he vanished into the bedroom and returned with a blanket, which he wrapped around me. “The hour is late, and you’re underdressed for this weather. Is this warm enough?”

“This is fine. It’s a shame we didn’t build a fireplace in here, but Tak was afraid it might be a fire hazard.” I admired his loose white Henley and grey sweatpants. Atticus always looked classy even in casual attire. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

He flashed a handsome smile. “Nonsense. As it so happens, I was reading one of your books.”

I wanted to sink through the floor at the idea of him reading one of our torrid romances. “From in there?” I pointed toward the bedroom.

He grinned. “No, from your home library. I was in there an hour ago and found an intriguing collection on Shifter history in North America.”

I glanced around the quaint room. We were standing in the kitchenette to the right of the entrance. I could see the bed from where I stood since there wasn’t a door.

Atticus opened the small cooler. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“I’d love a glass of chardonnay, but that’s off the menu. Is there juice?”

He reached inside and then handed me an individual carton of apple juice. After punching the straw into the hole, I sipped the refreshing beverage while Atticus entered the living area ahead. The grey sectional and round pink rug were all Melody’s doing.

“This is a cozy room,” he said. “You have everything you need without all the walking.”

I sat facing the large television mounted to the center wall. “They built it like a cabin, only with a divider wall between the living area and the bedroom. Did you see the bathtub? It’s nice.”

Atticus switched on the lamp in the corner by the TV. “I prefer the shower.”

“Being in heat is painful, so a hot bath helps.”

The blanket slipped off my right shoulder.

“Here, allow me.” Atticus helped me stand so he could unravel the blanket. Once I sat again, he covered my lap. “You shouldn’t be out this late—not without an escort.”

“It’s our territory, and we guard it well. If there’s one place I never want to be afraid, it’s in my own home. Is everything comfortable out here? Do you need anything?”

“I’m a man of few needs, but I appreciate the fruits.” He sat to my right and angled his body to face me. “I haven’t seen you all day. When I came home at dinner, you’d already gone to bed.”

“I was tired but couldn’t sleep. That’s a running theme lately.” After slurping the remaining juice, I handed the empty carton to Atticus, who set it on the floor.

“I couldn’t wait to get back and see you,” he said. “The club was busy tonight, but I couldn’t stop thinking about where we left things. How have you been feeling?”

“Bloated. Tired.”

With the crook of his finger, he turned my chin to face him. “No, how are you emotionally? You’ve been through a lot.”

“I need to know what this is between us. I’m scared.”

“Of what?” His brow furrowed. “Me?”

“Well, yes. Your strength. Someone reminded me that you could accidentally hurt the baby.”

He shook his head. “Never. The younger ones don’t know their own strength, but I’m ancient. I’ve had centuries to learn control. That’s why I can punch a man without shattering his skull or grip your hand without crushing bones. I know my own strength, but more importantly, I know how to control my emotions. If it would give you any comfort, I’ll carry around an egg for the next five months and show you I won’t break it.”

I chuckled. “That would smell terrible.”

“Is that all you’re worried about? You’re not yourself tonight.” When he held my hand, my walls crumbled.

Tears blurred my vision. “I’m just so scared of making the wrong choice. I’m worried about being a disappointment to this baby. What if it hates me?”

The admission embarrassed me, and I couldn’t stop crying.

Atticus wiped away my tears. “Babies love unconditionally. Anyone would be lucky to have a mother like you.”

“I’ve never had unconditional love. Don’t you see? That’s why I have so much to lose.”

Atticus pulled the blanket higher and wrapped his arm around me while I had an emotional breakdown. I cried against his shirt while he caressed my hair.

“Why did you really come out here?” he asked.

“I crave being near you. Seems silly, doesn’t it? I didn’t even realize it until you were gone all day. Especially after…”

“After what?” He drew back.

I wiped my nose and leaned back to collect myself. “Salem and I spoke last night. He doesn’t believe this is a real courtship; he thinks I want you for your money and security. I don’t have a penny to my name. Is that something you’ve wondered about? Whether I’m only interested because of your status?”

“I have no interest in what another man thinks. Do you?” His black eyes lowered to our joined hands. “Put it out of your head.”

“Thank you for the gifts. They were so thoughtful.”

“You’re my girl.”

I felt butterflies in my tummy.

Atticus traced the scar on my forehead with a featherlight touch of his finger. It traveled at an angle from my hairline to my right eyebrow. “How did you get this?”

“It happened several years ago. I was dating a jealous man and I’d had enough of his ridiculous behavior. He forced himself into my hotel room when I answered the door. Then he smashed a heavy vase against my head. It knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was alone with a cord wrapped around my neck, and my hands were bound behind my back. At least a day had passed.”

Atticus steered his head away, but not before I glimpsed his fangs punching out.

“I never saw him again. He tied me up before leaving so I couldn’t shift and heal my cut. That was his petty revenge. Lucky for me we were in a hotel room, and someone heard me calling for help. That’s one reason I never bought a house. There’s comfort in having people close by. You never know when you might need someone.”

“What was his name?”

Knowing where this conversation might be going, I traced my finger along his jaw. “It’s irrelevant. He’s out of my life, and that’s where he’ll stay. When I leave the past behind, I leave it.” I leaned into the crook of his arm.

Atticus smelled wonderful. Though his cologne had faded over the course of the day, he had a clean scent.

“Wounded men can be cruel,” he finally said. “Not all men are beasts. I’m giving you the option to reject me. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t slay your enemies, because I will.”

“He was bitter about his life’s failures, but I didn’t see that until it was too late. Men only want a pretty girl on their arm, a glamorous life, bragging rights, money…”

“I only want your heart.”

I tilted my head up to look at him. “You’ve mentioned that, but do you even find me attractive in this condition?”

His black eyes hooded, and he gazed at me ardently. He leaned down and delivered a sensual kiss that lit me on fire. When his hand touched my thigh and squeezed, I yearned for a more intimate touch.

The smoldering kiss deepened, and I moaned against his lips.

“May I touch you?” he asked.

I leaned back. “Yes.”

A feather-soft stroke over my panties made me release a shuddering breath. His provocative gaze turned up, and I wet my lips.

In a swift movement, Atticus scooped me into his arms and carried me to the adjacent bedroom. A dim lamp set the mood, and the covers were still tucked in.

My feet touched the floor. Atticus stood behind me, his lips on my neck, his hand steadily roaming between my legs, his fingers pinching my nipple through the fabric.

“Should we be doing this?” I managed to ask. “I’m pregnant.”

“We don’t have to do anything. I can just touch you until you come.”

My legs trembled as he stroked me with dexterous fingers.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled sexily, then walked me to the bed and sat me down on the red comforter. Atticus got on bended knee and removed one slipper at a time, his eyes never straying from mine. “Does this please my lady?” He raised my gown and kissed my inside thigh.

Any doubts I might have had about our chemistry incinerated. Each time we were alone, each time we touched, it felt as though we didn’t belong apart.

My body flushed with desire. When he moved to kiss my other thigh, I glimpsed his fangs.

“Can I touch them?”

“Careful,” he said softly. “They’re sharp.”

And they certainly were. Not like a knife, but the enamel was different from regular teeth. Then I traced my finger over his soft lips, sculpted jaw, and stubbly chin.

A mischievous smile touched his lips. “What are the boxes beneath the bed? Each is labeled with a name.”

I could absolutely die from embarrassment.

The ladies had each assembled their own private box to store their personal effects for when it was their time in heat. It could be anything from pictures to magazines to toys. I didn’t know what they had put in theirs, but I certainly knew what was in mine.

“It’s, um… for our time in need.”

He reached beneath the bed and pulled out my box. “May I?”

“Please don’t judge me.”

Atticus cupped my nape and pulled me into a deep kiss. Our tongues met, and the next thing I knew, we were lying on the bed. His cool facade crumbled when his erection pressed against my leg.

Atticus unbuttoned the top three buttons on my nightgown, and when his warm lips drew in my nipple, I moaned.

His insatiable craving for me was undeniable.

Atticus rubbed his nose against mine. “I want to seduce you.”

“Okay.”

His eyes settled on mine. “Sex will wait until after the baby.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to worry about my strength.” He scooted down and kissed my nipple. “Pleasure comes in many ways, my lady. How would you like me to pleasure you?”

“Open my box.”

Atticus reached onto the floor, and there was the sound of a lid flipping over. He gave me an elfin smile over his shoulder that made me blush to my toes.

When he moved back over me, he held a pink vibrator. We girls had driven to Austin one afternoon for personal-pleasure items to store in the heat house, and I didn’t want to raise any suspicion by not partaking.

Atticus sat up and placed it beside me. Then he put his warm hand on my thigh and slowly stroked all the way up to my hip. He hooked his fingers around the hem of my panties, coaxing me to lift my hips so he could pull down my undies.

After lying beside me, he caressed my hip. “You’re a goddess.”

“I’m huge.”

He turned my chin to face him. “ Goddess. Now spread your legs for me.”

When he cupped his hand between my legs, I gasped and gripped my pillow. Every stroke unraveled me under his ravenous gaze. I wanted to burst when his tongue circled my nipple. Even the gentle press of his fangs was an erotic delight.

Panicked, I seized his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It feels too good. I-I don’t want it to be over too quickly.”

I had been going through bouts of extreme arousal for the past several weeks, and if he kept touching me that way, I was going to climax too soon.

“This is just the beginning. Let yourself go. We have all night.”

His words were silken against my skin, and I did. I let go completely.

“Bend your knee,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m going to take care of you.”

The vibrator switched on.

A shiver of anticipation ran through me.

“Relax.” His command alone satiated me.

The silken touch of the toy against my inner thigh teased me as much as his mouth. He worked his way down to my ample breasts.

My breath hitched at the sudden vibration between my legs. Atticus sucked on my nipple, and feeling pleasure in two places simultaneously made me burn even hotter.

I writhed and moaned. “Feels so good.”

Once I was wet, he slipped the vibrator inside me, keeping it just at my entrance. Every stroke consumed me.

“Please,” I whimpered, clawing his shoulders.

Atticus grunted before kissing his way up to my neck while I tensed beneath him.

His gaze darkened. “More?”

“Higher.” I tried to lift my hips.

“I want you.” A current of possession rose in his tone. “I want to be inside you and feel that slick heat. Can I taste you? Can I put my mouth… right… here?”

Atticus pumped the device faster, and when it hit the right spot, I clutched him and cried out.

The pulses hit me fast and hard, yet somehow it wasn’t enough.

He kissed my lips softly. “If you were mine, I would pleasure you nightly until your legs quivered. You would never beg for more because I… am… your… slave.”

The vibrator pulsed as he stroked my sex, drawing out the most intense orgasm.

“Don’t fight it,” he growled. “Come harder.”

One wave hit after another, my body tensing, heat flushing through me. When Atticus put the vibrator aside and replaced it with his fingers, the touch of his warm hand wrung out the last one I had in me.

He scraped his teeth over my breast. “I wish I could taste you.”

I wondered what he really meant by that.

Atticus circled his finger and drew in my nipple at the same time.

When the last pulse subsided, I relaxed.

After he withdrew his hand, he continued worshipping my breasts with his mouth.

My heart pounded against my chest. I took a few deep breaths, completely boneless and yet wanting more.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Better than I’ve felt in ages.”

He lay beside me. “Intimacy is powerful.”

When I reached down and slipped my fingers in the hem of his sweatpants, he caught my wrist.

“Let me,” I insisted.

“Pleasure is a gift, not a returned favor. I’m guessing the men in your past made sex about themselves.” His gaze dragged down to my lips, which must have been slightly swollen from my biting them. “Stay with me tonight.”

For a moment I wondered what the others would think. Then I realized how little I cared. This was my choice, and I didn’t need anyone’s permission or approval to stay with a man who was courting me.

I brushed my fingers over his stubbly chin. “But you don’t sleep. What will you do all night?”

He propped his head up with his hand and smiled. “Who says we have to sleep all night? I’d like to stay up and learn more about you. Unless you’re tired.”

I stroked his bottom lip until he kissed my finger. “I’m definitely not tired.”

“Can I help with anything?” I sneaked up behind Atticus and wrapped my arms around him.

“I’m almost done slicing the apples.” He looked at the cupboards. “Is there a bowl I can put these in?”

I opened an overhead cabinet to reach for a plate, but my belly got in the way.

Being taller, Atticus retrieved the plate and set it in my hands. “There you are, my love.”

Cue the butterflies.

After fooling around a little more, he had offered to make snacks for me. I wasn’t tired anyhow and enjoyed these moments of getting to know him better.

While he finished with the apples, I peered into the cooler and grabbed a block of cheese. “I’m glad Hope put a few things in here before you came.”

“I don’t require food, but that was kind of her. People rarely do things for me without expecting payment or something in return.” Atticus slid the cutting board toward me, and I used the other half to cut the cheese into cubes.

“My pack isn’t like that at all. We always do things for each other, and nobody ever expects favors.”

“Do you have any sleeping habits I should know about?” he casually asked.

“Lately, I haven’t been sleeping well. At least I have the bed and pillows to myself again.”

“You and Salem slept in the same bed?” Atticus made a low growl as he reached around me for the plate and scooped the apple wedges onto it.

“It was perfectly awful. I got used to the awkwardness of sleeping next to him, but we rarely talked. He would come in, hurry to bed, and turn his back to me. Now that I have the room to myself, I get to spread out and enjoy myself. I can stay up late knitting with the light on or listen to music.”

“I don’t want to break your routine.”

“I’m only saying if you plan to share the bed with me, be prepared. When you’re used to sleeping alone, you take up more real estate. Sometimes I sleep on both sides of the bed. I’ve never been loyal to one side over the other, and maybe that has to do with all the hotels I stayed at and how the bed was positioned.” I nibbled on a cheese cube before cutting up the rest of the block. “Won’t you get bored lying there all night?”

He rinsed the knife under the tap. “If I get bored, I’ll just rub your feet or read. I can also go outside and guard the door if you want privacy.”

“Well, that’s an absurd idea. Imagine what Catcher might do if he found you standing out there all night like a statue.”

For whatever reason, I liked that Atticus didn’t need sleep. Though I didn’t know how serious we might get with our relationship, I still took pieces of information and inserted them into imaginary scenarios. Sleeping together would be nice, and we might do that sometimes. But if he needed to be up walking around, I wouldn’t mind having the bed to myself. Not all women could relate to that, but Atticus and I were similar creatures.

“What’s the real reason you don’t want to know the gender?” Atticus put the knife back in the butcher’s block. “You hesitated when telling the pack you enjoyed surprises.”

I set down the slicer and played with a cheese crumb. “Maybe I was afraid of getting attached.”

“And now?”

I shrugged. “I still like surprises.”

“Joy, I understand your apprehension, but if you’re thinking about keeping it, bonding helps. You’ve spent months fearing what’s inside you or what your pack might think. You never had a chance to make a connection. Now that your Packmaster and Relic have allayed your fears, bond with your baby.”

“How?”

He stood behind me, his hands around my belly, and rested his chin on my shoulder. “Do you talk to it? My woman used to talk to our baby.”

“And say what?”

“She would tell it all about us and the life we were building. We made promises,” he said wistfully. “Learning the gender ahead of time is a new concept for me, but it’s not necessary in order to bond.” He put his hands over mine. “A piece of you is in there, and you are remarkable.”

He bent down and whispered against my belly, “Your mother is also stubborn.” Atticus strode to the cooler and opened it. “What do you thirst for, my love?”

“More of what we did earlier.”

“Is that so?” After slamming the door, he kissed the back of my neck and made me giggle.

I plated the cheese and then faced him. “Why do you like me?”

He jerked his head back. “What do you mean?”

“Men envied my glamorous lifestyle—it was part of the fantasy. The travel, the money, the attention—you have to understand that there was a time in history when impersonators were worshipped in the Breed community. We weren’t a novelty act like with humans. It’s like we were an alternate version of those individuals because we weren’t human. But now I’m a pregnant woman who doesn’t do much with her life anymore except knit. I’ve never felt this insecure, but I can’t figure out why a man like you would be so interested in an ordinary woman.”

“The ordinary is extraordinary. Most people don’t learn that until they’re close to dying. Those men didn’t love you; they loved a life they couldn’t attain, a woman they couldn’t earn. How many took the time to know you? To please only you? To imagine a future with you?” Atticus caressed my cheek. “I wake up every day worried that I don’t deserve your love.”

“Is that why you keep sending me flowers?”

Color rose in his cheeks. “I send those because you enjoy them. Now I can see my mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“You think I’m trying to buy your love.”

I held his wrist. “I would never think that. The homemade cake and blanket were thoughtful, but not as thoughtful as the notes.”

He inclined his head. “I’m searching for the way to your heart.” Atticus put his arms around my waist. “You like thoughtful gestures more than grand ones.”

“And what do you like? Who is the real Atticus Rain?”

He arched his eyebrows. “What do you wish to know?”

“Anything.”

“I’m a man of routine, so staying here is an adjustment. I collect books and art, as you know. I like dancing with beautiful women, riding my motorcycle, and sailing. I haven’t sailed in ages, but the world is so big when you’re floating on the ocean. You already know about my family and my past. Ask me anything.”

I regarded him. “Why did you name your club Dragonfly Bar they’re made. That would mean we have no destiny.”

“Is that what you believe?”

Frowning, he studied the floor as if solving a problem in his head. “The moment I laid eyes on you, I got this feeling.”

I set down my cheese cube. “What feeling?”

His eyebrows gathered in confusion. “As if everything that’s happened in the existence of the universe led me to the moment our eyes met. You can’t fathom how deeply it pained me to know that you were taken. In that moment, I realized that a wretched Vampire has no fate.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “You were afraid of me.”

Suddenly it made sense. For him it was love at first sight. But for me it was fear. That left him doubtful that we could be destined—that we could be unconventional life mates.

“I didn’t know you, Atticus. Do you think that negates your feelings? Hope and Tak claim to be life mates, but it wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, it wasn’t like that for Mercy either. Maybe women don’t fall as fast because we know how much it hurts.”

He rested his arms on the table. “Could you love a man like me?”

I already did. It strengthened with every conversation, every shared glance, every kiss. But it didn’t feel right to pour my heart out over a plate of cheese and apples. I also wanted to make sure this could be a healthy relationship, one I could thrive in—one my baby could thrive in. My head and heart needed to be aligned.

“Joy?”

I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Fatherhood has always been my heart’s desire,” he confessed. “No one wants to build a family with a Vampire, so I’m not forcing you into this. You have no obligations to me. All I can give you is my word that I would raise this child as my own.” A smile flirted around the edges of his mouth. “ This is how I know you’ll be an excellent mother.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re already thinking of your child first, as you should. You need a partner who will love them and teach them the right ways.” Atticus reached across the table and held my hand. “Maybe I’m not that man. I’ve done sinful things.”

“What about me? How am I supposed to tell my baby that I used to sell my body for money? That scientists experimented on my wolves, and that’s how they were born?” When rage bubbled to the surface, I tamped it down with a shaky breath.

He gently squeezed my hand. “Don’t let your child see you as a victim. Tell them how brave you were to leave home and make a life for yourself. Tell them how many countries you visited, and the experience and wisdom you gained. Tell them how courageous you were to overcome captivity and begin a new life. Tell them how their happiness was always at the forefront of your decisions. All that other stuff is irrelevant.”

“They’ll blame me for being different.”

“You can’t control the future any more than you can change the past.”

“What if years go by and those scientists find out my child’s alive?”

“No one will ever hurt you again,” he said, his voice tight.

Atticus had a way of making me feel like I was protected from all directions. This conversation was getting far too serious, and I wanted to lighten the mood so I didn’t stress my baby into shifting.

Taking a cheese cube, I sat back and held it between my index finger and thumb. “Open your mouth.”

With a twinkle in his eyes, he tilted his head back and obeyed.

When I tossed the cheese over the table, it bounced off his nose. Laughter bubbled in my throat at the stern look he gave me.

“I have news for you, my lady. If you’re searching for a career, you can strike basketball off the list.”