“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said and turned to open the door.
Rhys pulled her back and claimed her lips. He wanted his taste seared on her tongue during the hours they were apart. He held her face in his hands and proceeded to kiss her senseless. When he pulled back, her lips were swollen and her eyes glazed with desire. He smiled in satisfaction, even as his cock ached to be buried inside her tight, wet sheath.
“That wasn’t fair,” she whispered.
“It was to tide me over until morning.”
She caressed her fingers along his cheek before she slid her hands into his wet hair. “Be safe.”
Rhys didn’t stop her again when she opened the car door and stepped out, but it was a fight not to. He was able to remain in the car knowing that a Dragon King was watching over her.
He waited until Lily was inside her flat before he pulled away from the curb. As he drove slowly down the road, he spotted movement between two buildings and saw Darius. Rhys was so shocked at seeing the Dragon King who had been sleeping for the past five hundred years that he almost stopped the car.
Darius gave a subtle nod of his head of long blond hair toward Rhys. Rhys kept driving because he knew Lily was in safe hands with Darius.
There was a push against Rhys’s mind with a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. He opened the link. “Darius.”
“I’ll keep her safe. Doona worry.”
“I’m no’. When did you wake?”
After a long pause, Darius said, “I never went back to sleep after Con woke all of us to join forces with the Warriors and Druids for their battle. I’ve just been … in my cave.”
So all those years of sleep hadn’t helped him. Darius was a quiet one, a King who rarely spoke, but was lethal when riled. “It’s good to see you.”
Rhys was about to say more, but Darius shut him out. Rhys didn’t mind. Darius was still acclimating to this time, and he would need his space. It was enough that he was willing to watch over Lily.
The thunderstorm was in full swing by the time Rhys parked the Jaguar in the garage on Dreagan. He shut off the car and got out. As he closed the car door behind him, he saw Kiril at the far doorway of the garage.
“I should kick your arse for no’ telling me you finally gave in to Lily,” Kiril said with a smile on his face.
Rhys chuckled and walked to Kiril, pausing to hang up his keys on the peg. “I didna plan it.”
“Nay, you went to Ulrik first.” The smile was gone from Kiril’s face. “I should kick your arse for that as well.”
“I needed answers.”
“Did you get them?”
“You know I didna,” he said and pushed past him to walk the short distance to the manor.
Kiril fell into step beside him, his wheat-colored hair pulled back in a neat queue at the base of his neck. “Ryder has hijacked a couple of satellites to search for Lily’s brother, but so far nothing.”
“Dennis must have put him somewhere. It’s what I’d have done in his place.”
They walked into the manor, and Rhys came to a halt when Con stood in his way, his arms crossed over his chest and his obsidian gaze hard as granite and directed at Rhys.
“I wanted to talk to Lily myself,” Con said.
Rhys shrugged and strode past him, saying, “Guess you’re going to have to wait.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Perth, Scotland
Ulrik had showered and changed and was inspecting a first-edition Shakespeare when Mikkel came down the back hidden stairs with Abby. The space had been his alone for hundreds of years, and he was far from thrilled to be sharing it with his uncle and Abby for even the smallest amount of time.
He turned and looked at Abby who gazed once more adoringly up at Mikkel. There were similarities between him and Mikkel. Their coloring and height, but the main one was their drive to shape the world into what they wanted—or needed—it to be.
That’s where the parallels stopped. Mikkel sported a hint of gray at his temples, and a few lines around his eyes making him appear older than Ulrik. It was obvious he wasn’t happy about it by the way Mikkel kept looking in the mirror and unconsciously touching his gray hair.
“You should’ve joined us last night,” Abby said as she stopped beside Ulrik and put her hand on his chest. “You rival your uncle in bed. I would like to have both of you at the same time.”
Ulrik looked down at her hand, then to her face. She was pretty, her sexuality blatant. That’s what originally caught his eye, but she’d proved she was more than competent as his assistant despite making a skirt and jacket sexy as hell.
To know that somehow she and Mikkel had deceived him for ten years was galling and thoroughly dampened any appeal she might have had.
“He never learned to share,” Mikkel said as he turned away from the mirror and adjusted his suit jacket. “Besides, Abby dear, you barely survive your time in my bed. Do you really think you could live through having both of us?”