Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

Remi strides into the room, dropping a knee by the bed, placing water bottles down on his bedside dresser and then planting a fruit bowl in Freya’s lap. “I got fruit.”

“I can order in.” I roll my eyes at the fruit bowl.

“Fruit is full of vitamins and natural sugars,” he defends.

“No, this is fine.” Peeling a banana, she begins chowing down.

“That shouldn’t turn me on, but it does,” Remi groans.

“For fuck’s sake.” I get to my feet. “I’m going to run you a bath. It will help you relax.”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you.”

Brushing a hand through her hair, Remi’s features soften. “Are you sure we shouldn’t get you looked at?”

“I’m fine. I promise,” she assures him, resting her hand over his. The affection in her eyes shouldn’t make me jealous, but it does. She loves him freely, without effort. It’s not the same way for me.

Carrying Freya up to her room, I savor the moment her head rests against my chest and small arms link around my neck. “I can walk.” She sighs.

“Remi would freak out if you tried.” I smile down at her. Her room is the only one with a bathtub, so Remi reluctantly allowed me this time to dote on her. I need it.

Placing her on her bed, I lose my tie and roll my shirt sleeves up my forearms. Going through to her bathroom, I begin running her bath, adding some salts she has on a shelf above the faucets.

My bones ache, mental exhaustion finding its way through my body. She hasn’t moved from where I left her, her gaze on the glass leading out to the balcony. “I love this view,” she murmurs. “Was it someone else’s room before it was mine?”

“No.” I join her, coaxing her to stand. “This upper level would have been for Rose once she outgrew her first room. My mother liked her close.” I shrug.

“I would have loved to have known her. I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m sorry you got robbed of seeing her grow.”

My chest constricts, a stone lodging in my throat. “It does mean something,” I say gruffly.

Gliding her shirt up and over her head, I move to her shorts, slipping them down her legs. Lifting her into a bridal hold, I carry her into the bathroom and lower her into the warm water. When I pull away, she grips my arm. “Get in with me.”

There’s something in her expression that guts me. This moment feels so delicate, like we’re teetering on a knife edge. Phantom claws shred down my spine in warning of something to come. A daunting fog surrounds us. I feel like I’ve lost her already, even with her right in front of me.

I’m losing my mind.

“Please?” she adds.

Stripping myself, I climb in behind her, my thighs encasing hers, my crotch nestling against her ass. I wrap an arm across her waist, clasping her to me. She lays against my chest, her head lulling on my shoulder.

There’s a carnal urge when I’m this close to her. It fires in my gut. My nostrils flare, inhaling her, relishing this stolen moment.

Gripping a wash cloth, I dip into the water and slowly drag it over her chest, across her breasts, and down her navel.

“Thank you,” she exhales dreamily.

“For what?” I smile against her shoulder, dripping water across her lower stomach.

“For looking after me.”

The stone in my throat drops to my stomach. “I’m sorry I failed to do it sooner. I’m a piece of shit.”

“No,” she gasps, tilting her head to look at me. “The situation is shit, and we have things to work through and choices to make. But not right now. Right now, I just want to lay here, like this.”

We stay in the bath long after the water chills. Drying her off, I wrap the towel around my waist and follow her through to her room. I grab up the clothes strewn all over her bed, trying not to mock her for being so messy when a piece of paper falls from her jean’s pocket.

Our eyes clash from across the bed as I lean down to pick it up. “Don’t,” she murmurs as I unfold the picture of her condemned family.

“You’ve been researching.” I swallow the ache. She doesn’t know this information isn’t news to me.

“She was my mom, Noah. Wouldn’t you?” her voice cracks. I’d never actually put myself in her shoes, seen the situation through her. Of course she wants to know about her mother.

“When my father gets home, we’re going to make him tell us everything. Together,” I state.

Surprise lights in her eyes, then she nods her head. “Together.”

Reaching out for my hand, we climb beneath the duvet and pretend for a little while longer everything is fine.

Thirty

Freya

It was hard to pretend with Noah, to act like I hadn’t discovered something monumental when I’d spied on him. Did Remi know my dad was being kept prisoner in this very house? How could they be okay with him being here? Locked up or not, it’s so fucked up.