Prim and Proper Fate (Twisted Fate Series Book 2) (18 page)

Always.

“I don’t understand why you don’t see things the way I do,” Killian said abruptly, startling Prim out of her musings. “They’re the reason you’ve lost your Chala. Every one of your Chala—killed. Because of the Rakshasa. You’re going to lose that one, too, mark my words.”

“Don’t say that,” Prim whispered, as the oily tendrils of dark fear wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She was short of breath. The air was becoming heavy, thick. She recognized the beginnings of an episode, and she struggled against it. Something as simple as a conversation with Killian should not have the ability to pull one out of her, but given the amount of stress she’d been under the past few days, it wasn’t really surprising, to be honest. She fought against the darkness, not wanting Killian to realize what was happening to her. If he told the First...

“Why not?” Killian asked, challenging her. “It’s true. She’s vulnerable, now that she’s here, instead of on that island. You should have let me have her, Prim. She would have been satisfied, and she wouldn’t have felt the urge to come here, to meet all these–these animals.”

Prim balked. “She only came here because of you. If you hadn’t attacked her, she never would have left the island. She had no reason to. She was happy and content. And now she’s in danger and going to die!”

Her breath came in short spurts now. She clutched at her throat, as if she could force it to open so she could suck in a deep breath and get her bearings again. Her other hand scrabbled frantically until it found the bedframe, and she clung to it, to help her stay upright.

Please, not in front of Killian. He’ll tell the First. I know he will. Please.

The door flung open, and Brandon strode through, looking positively furious. With one glance at Killian, he adjusted his path, grabbed the Fate by the collar, and bodily tossed him from the room, slamming the door behind him, before heading over to Prim and gathering her into his arms.

“Shh. It’s okay, honey. I’m here. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, but we were wrapping up training, and those guys are pretty pitiful, despite the fact it’s only been a few days. I knew you needed me, and I’m sorry I didn’t drop everything and rush right up here, but it’s okay now. I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.”

The episode passed. Prim sank into him, relieved for his presence, until something occurred to her. She pushed against his chest and looked up into his face. “You knew I needed you? How? I didn’t need you,” she denied, but she knew it was true. His presence was her anchor to sanity. When the episodes threatened, Brandon managed to keep them at bay. She’d been about to succumb when he walked into the room, and suddenly her mind was clear, the episode gone before it had been able to grab hold, possibly pulling her under forever.

“Whatever,” he said, completely nonplussed. Apparently satisfied that she was now fine, he stripped off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. “I’m going to get one of the guys to watch your door while I grab a quick shower. Don’t leave this room. I refuse to be held responsible if that Fate comes anywhere near you again.” He left as quickly as he’d come.

Prim was so distracted by that exchange, she was still standing in the same place when he returned a short time later, holding his duffle bag in his hand, his blond hair damp and curling at the nape of his neck. He’d pulled his jeans back on, but hadn’t snapped the button. He dropped his duffle bag, lifted her bag off the bed, shed his jeans, and then dropped onto the bed, face down.

“Please give me a backrub,” he begged, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You’re–You’re nude,” Prim pointed out needlessly.

“Toss me a pair of shorts. I’ll put them on, if you’ll promise to use your magical hands on me.”

“You think my hands are magical?”

“I think
you
are magical, Prim. And the only thing that’s gotten me through the last few hours is the idea of your hands, working that magic on my back. I’m not above begging. Or bribery. Name your price.”

My Chala
, she wanted to say. Despite William’s comments from earlier, she was still convinced Brandon was the best choice for Lily. If she had to give up her Chala, it had to be to someone she could trust to take care of her. To keep her safe. To love her.

Damn. She supposed she was going to have to teach Lily how to give backrubs. But not tonight. Brandon was too vulnerable at the moment. And far too naked. She gathered her skirt around her thighs, climbed onto the bed, and straddled his hips. Hot lust surged through her system as she placed her palms on his lower back and steadily began to knead, working through every single last one of those knots.

“The Fates love me,” he mumbled with a contended sigh.

Unfortunately, by the time she was done, her body thrummed with need and Brandon was sound asleep. She couldn’t really fault him. He’d been through a great deal in the past few days, and he needed his sleep. So she prepared for bed and crawled in next to him, stirring him just enough to get him under the covers. And then she curled herself around his heated, hard body and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 12

Prim moaned. Finally.

“Wake up, honey. I’m betting you want to be fully awake for this.”

“M-mm?” Prim turned her head to the side, her face puckering as she squeezed her eyes closed.

“I promise, you’ll like it.” Brandon bent his head and licked her nipple. Her eyes shot open and she looked down at herself, blinking in confusion.

“Where is my nightie?”

“Over there somewhere,” Brandon murmured, waving his hand as he latched his mouth onto her nipple again. He suckled and Prim arched her back and gasped.

“There we go,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s my girl. Took you long enough to wake up. I stripped you and have been fondling your breasts for half an hour now.”

“I thought it was a dream.”

He grinned. “It is. A dream come true.” He pushed up onto his wrists and then bent his elbows enough to be able to kiss her, before straightening his arms again.

“I see you’re feeling better today.”

“Amazingly. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Whatever you did was magic. I feel like a new man. And I’m about to show you just how appreciative I am.” He bent his elbows and kissed her again. When he tried to straighten, she wrapped her arms around his neck and refused to let him go.

“Show me,” she demanded. “Show me now.”

Brandon chuckled. “My pleasure.” And he set about doing exactly as she demanded.

He was
exceedingly
appreciative.

As they lay wrapped in each other’s arms enjoying the afterglow, Prim asked, “Brandon, have you ever thought about having children?”

He shrugged. “No.”

“Not at all?”

He shrugged again. “Not at all. I honestly never even considered it. It was never the right time, there was never a woman I was serious enough about to even go down that road. And now that there is, well, you said you can’t. So it doesn’t matter.”

Prim pushed up onto her elbows and looked him in the face. “What did you say?”

He threw her a confused look. “Which part?”

“What do you mean, ‘now that there is?’ What does that mean?” she demanded.

Brandon’s brow furrowed. “Prim, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting, I don’t know, weird. What do you want me to say?”

“This isn’t about what I want,” she insisted. “It’s about how you feel. And I cannot believe that you have no desire to carry on your genes. That you don’t want to get a female with child, have her birth your prodigy, and raise that child as your own. That’s just—that’s just ridiculous,” she sputtered.

Brandon climbed out of bed and grabbed a pair of boxer shorts out of his duffle bag. “What’s weird is this conversation. Why are you getting so uptight? If you’re worried, Prim, stop. I don’t care if we have kids. I’m serious. I have no burning desire to carry on my family line. I’m perfectly happy just being with you. As long as we can practice on a regular basis,” he added with a cheeky grin, trying to break through the confusing emotions he felt radiating off her.

“That is completely asinine,” Prim snapped, climbing out of bed and thrusting her arms into a dark blue silk robe. “You want children. I know you do. And Lily will give them to you. Lots of little Chala and Light Ones. Dozens. A hundred, if you like. But you have got to stop sleeping with me!” She stormed out of the room.

A moment later, he heard the door to the bathroom slam shut. He was about to go after her when Sydney stepped into the doorway.

She looked at his boxer shorts and blushed. “Is this a bad time?”

“No.” He growled and tossed a glowering look at the door across the hall. He strode over to his duffle bag and extracted a pair of jeans. “What do you need?” He shoved his legs into the denim pants.

“Something wrong?” she asked hesitantly.

“Women and their fucked-up ideas, that’s all. What do you need?” he repeated. He didn’t feel like opening up to Sydney. He wasn’t the sort of guy who liked to talk about his feelings at all. Hell, he’d never really had feelings intense enough to need to be discussed.

Sydney glanced at the closed bathroom door, then walked over and closed the bedroom door before speaking. “I have a plan, and I’d like your opinion on it.”

“What sort of plan?”

“A plan to get Gavin back.”

“I’m listening.”

“We need to use me as bait. We need to lure him out. We need to get him to us on our terms, not his. We—” Brandon slashed a hand through the air to cut her off.

“Forget it. You are not going to be bait. I’m not leaving you alone with him for even half a second. He’ll slice your throat before Prim has a chance to throw the curse.”

Sydney winced and then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he still wants me. He remembers what it was like. What we were like. You know . . .” She trailed off, blushing again.

“I get it, Sydney. He remembers what it’s like to have sex with you. So? You think that’s going to stop him from killing you? He’s a Rakshasa, Sydney. An
uncursed
Rakshasa. And in case you’ve forgotten, he’s the one with the most notches on his bedpost. He’s killed more Chala than any other Rakshasa in history. He
will
kill you, if he gets the chance.”

He hated hurting Sydney’s feelings, but she needed to hear it. She needed to be afraid. The Gavin that was out there right now, prowling the streets of New Orleans, searching for her, was not the Gavin who had warmed her bed a few days ago.

“I know he will,” she said slowly. “But I think if he had the opportunity, he would try to sleep with me first. We can use that to our advantage.”

“No.”

They argued until Prim returned from her shower, which was a remarkably long time, and neither had given an inch. Brandon could tell Prim was still angry with him, but she nonetheless took his side, and soon it was two against one. Sydney couldn’t win this argument, so she finally stalked away, fuming.

“Go keep an eye on her,” Prim ordered. “Chala are known throughout history for being rash, especially when it comes to their mates.”

Brandon glared at her. He wanted to stay and work out whatever the hell had happened before her shower, but he knew she was right. The last time Sydney had gotten mad over Gavin, she’d run off into the woods by herself and she and Brandon had both nearly died when they’d been attacked by Rakshasa.

“Fine,” he ground out, and left the room.

Keeping an eye on Sydney also meant he ended up spending an inordinate amount of time in Lily’s presence as well. Prim’s words echoed in his head as he watched the two women put their heads together and whisper conspiratorially, or practice the defensive moves that Gavin had taught Sydney several months prior, or smirk when this shifter or that paused to flirt with Lily.

He knew Lily was nearly two hundred years old. She was a woman grown, and she had certainly blossomed into a beautiful specimen. Even if she hadn’t been a Chala, he imagined his pack mates would still clamor after her. Still, she struck him as . . . almost like a child.

Prim had kept her sheltered out there on that island. She was innocent, and she was naïve, and while that might be attractive to som
e men, he preferred more worldly women. Like Prim.

“You want children. I know you do. And Lily will give them to you. Lots of little Chala and Light Ones. Dozens. A hundred, if you like. But you have got to stop sleeping with me!”

Stop sleeping with her? Was she serious? And if she was . . . why? What the hell happened in those few moments between having glorious sex and her jumping into the shower? He was completely lost.

Unfortunately, Prim kept her distance all day, and if Brandon wanted to go track her down, he would have to leave the two Chala to their own devices. He didn’t trust either of them, especially now that Sydney was hot on her idea to become bait to lure Gavin out of whatever hole he was currently hiding in.

Hopefully
, Brandon thought snidely,
he’s still recovering from his wounds from our last battle
.

He didn’t have Sydney or a Fate like Prim to heal him. Brandon thought about how good he had felt when he woke up this morning. It had been as if he’d never gotten into the scuffle in the first place. Prim had some damned impressive healing abilities.

Sydney claimed she was still a little sore this morning, and the gash on Lily’s head was healing nicely, but it wasn’t completely gone, not by a long shot. Yet Prim had healed all three of them. How was it he felt completely recovered, while the two Chala were still working their way through their wounds?

Maybe it had something to do with being a Chala. Maybe because he got into more scuffles more often, he healed faster. Whatever the reason, he still gave Prim a great deal of credit. His cock twitched as he thought about how thoroughly he’d expressed his appreciation this morning. He couldn’t help but wonder where he would be sleeping tonight. Would she let him into her bed? What the hell was he supposed to do to ensure that happened?

“Don’t try so hard,” William advised, coming up behind him. “You might break something.”

Brandon glanced over his shoulder and scowled at the Fate. And then his gaze swept the area and he realized the two Chala were gone. “Where’d they go?” he demanded.

William thrust his thumb toward the house. “Inside. Probably giving each other pedicures. Amazing how tight they’ve become in such a short time.”

“They’re the only two Chala left in the world. I imagine that helps form a pretty solid bond.”

William shrugged. “What do you think of Prim’s little Chala?”

Brandon was instantly suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

William inspected his cuticles. “No reason. Just noticed you and Prim aren’t attached at the hip today like you normally are. And she’s as pissy as a wolverine backed into a corner. You’re obviously fighting, and after the conversation I had with Prim yesterday, I suspect I know why.”

“Why?”

“So you are fighting?”

Brandon blew out a breath. He wasn’t used to talking about this kind of shit. To anybody. “Yes,” he ground out. “She went all psycho on me this morning. Something about me wanting kids.”

William nodded thoughtfully. “Prim would have been a fabulous mother, but she died before she had the opportunity. And now . . .”

“I know. Fates can’t have kids. I don’t care. I don’t even want kids.”

“Ah,” William said wisely.

Brandon glared at him, and considered ripping his head from his shoulders. The Fate would regenerate, and the impulse might just calm Brandon’s frayed nerves.

“She’s upset because you claim you don’t want children. But if you’re to be mated to the Chala, that’s sort of a given expectation.”

“Yeah, but I’m not . . .”

William watched him as realization dawned.

“Holy fuck,” Brandon swore. “She wants
me
to mate with Lily?” He gave William an incredulous look.

The Fate nodded.

“But I’m sleeping with
her
,” Brandon protested.

“So I gathered, by the sated looks on your faces every time you leave a bathroom together. And as Prim happens to think you’re rather perfect, she naturally assumes you would be perfect for her Chala.”

“That’s just stupid,” Brandon spat. “I don’t want to be with Lily. I’m not even attracted to her. My awareness extends only to the fact that she’s a Chala and I’m a Light One.”

“It isn’t stupid, if you’re a Fate,” William said wisely. “Our lives revolve around our Chala. We are designed to do anything for our Chala. Anything. Even give up our own happiness, if it means our Chala will have the perfect mate.”

“But–But she’s—” Brandon sputtered and paused, willing himself to calm down. Prim’s selflessness was one of the reasons he liked her so much.

Correction: he loved her. There was no
like
in this equation.

“Prim is the only woman for me,” he stated flatly. “There are hundreds of other shifters in our pack alone. She can interview them for all I care. Hell, I’ll interview them myself. But I’ll be damned if she’s going to try to rook me into giving her up so I can mate with her Chala.” He clenched his fists and wished there was a punching bag nearby. Or maybe that tree over there. He had an overwhelming need to pummel something. Too bad Gavin wasn’t around.

“I suggest you convince her of that fact,” William suggested.

Brandon turned away and strode back toward the house.

William called out to him, and he stopped and glanced back at the Fate.

“And just so you know,” William said, looking oddly pleased with himself, “she isn’t really that great of a healer.”

Brandon gave a start and then turned and strode back toward the house again. Damn the woman for being so fucking stubborn.

Blasted
stubborn, he told himself. He really had to watch his language.