morning after

Chapter 12: Morning After

I woke up to sunlight stabbing my eyes. My head throbbed. My mouth tasted like something died in it. I rolled over and froze.

This wasn't my room.

Black silk sheets. Masculine furniture. The scent of pine and smoke everywhere.

Lucian's room.

I sat up fast. Too fast. My head spun. The room tilted.

Then the memories hit.

The gala. Damien. The drink. The heat. Oh god, the heat.

My hands on Lucian's chest. My mouth on his throat. Straddling him in the car. Begging him. Touching myself. Grinding against him like an animal in heat.

"No no no no." I pressed my hands to my face.

I looked down. His shirt. I was wearing his shirt. Only his shirt. It hit mid-thigh. My dress was gone. My bra was gone.

My face burned. My whole body burned.

What did we do? Did he—did we—

I threw the covers off. Stood up. My legs shook. I needed to leave. Right now. Before he saw me. Before he could look at me and remember what I'd done.

The window. Ground floor. I could make it.

I ran to it. Unlocked it. Shoved it open. Fresh air hit my face. I grabbed the windowsill. Threw one leg over.

The door burst open.

"AMARA!"

Lucian stood there. Shirtless. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His hair was wet. His eyes were wide. Shocked. Then terrified.

He moved.

Fast. Too fast. His hand grabbed my waist. Yanked me back. Hard.

I fell. He fell. We crashed onto the floor together.

His body hit first. I landed on top of him. His arms locked around me. Tight. His chest heaved under me.

The mate bond exploded.

Fire. Electricity. It shot through every nerve. My skin tingled where we touched. His scent surrounded me. Overwhelmed me.

His heart pounded against my chest. Fast. Wild. Mine matched it. Beat for beat.

I looked up. His face was inches from mine. His eyes blazed gold. His jaw was clenched so hard I could see the muscle jumping.

"What the fuck." His voice shook. "What the fuck were you doing?"

I scrambled off him. Fast. My hands hit the floor. Pushed up. Got to my feet.

He stood slower. His chest still heaved. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" He shouted. Actually shouted. His voice bounced off the walls. "You were about to jump out a fucking window! What would I have done if you died? If you broke your neck? If I lost you?"

I stepped back. Hit the wall.

"Do you hate being here that much?" His voice cracked. "Hate being near me? You'd rather risk killing yourself than stay in my house for one morning?"

"I wasn't—"

"You had one leg out the window, Amara! I saw you!"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself!"

That stopped him. His mouth closed. His eyes narrowed.

"Then what the hell were you doing?"

Heat flooded my face. "I was trying to escape."

Silence.

He stared at me. I stared at the floor.

"Escape." His voice went flat. "You were trying to escape through a second-story window."

"It's ground floor from this side."

"It's twelve feet, Amara."

"I would've been fine."

"You would've broken both ankles."

I crossed my arms. "I've survived worse."

More silence. Then a sound. Low. Rough.

He was laughing.

I looked up. He had his hand over his mouth. His shoulders shook. His eyes were bright with actual amusement.

"It's not funny."

"It's hilarious." He dropped his hand. His smile was huge. "You were going to break both legs trying to sneak out of my house like a teenager."

"I wasn't sneaking—"

"Running away from me so hard you'd risk a twelve-foot drop." He stepped closer. "Why, Amara? What were you running from?"

My face burned hotter. "Nothing."

"Liar." Another step. "You remember last night, don't you?"

I looked away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You remember begging me to touch you. Grinding on my lap. Trying to get your hands on my—"

"Stop." I covered my face. "Please stop."

His fingers wrapped around my wrists. Gently. He pulled my hands away from my face. Held them between us.

"Look at me."

I shook my head.

"Amara. Look at me."

I forced my eyes up. Met his. They were soft now. Warm. No judgment. No mockery.

"You were drugged," he said quietly. "Nothing that happened was your fault. Nothing."

"I threw myself at you."

"You weren't in control."

"I begged you to—" I couldn't finish.

"And I said no." His thumbs brushed over my knuckles. "Because you couldn't consent. Because I would never take advantage of you like that."

My throat tightened. "You stopped."

"Of course I stopped."

"Damien wouldn't have."

His jaw clenched. "Damien is a dead man walking."

The way he said it. Cold. Final. Absolute. A shiver ran through me. Not fear. Something else.

"Come on." He released my hands. "You need food. And coffee. Lots of coffee."

The kitchen was huge. Granite counters. Stainless steel appliances. He moved around it easily. Cracked eggs into a pan. Poured coffee. Set a plate in front of me.

Scrambled eggs. Toast. Bacon. Orange juice.

My stomach growled. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

I ate. He watched me. Drank his coffee. Didn't touch his own food.

"Thank you," I said finally. "For last night. For stopping. For taking care of me."

"You don't have to thank me for basic human decency."

"Still. Thank you."

He nodded. Took a sip of coffee. His expression shifted. Went dark. Dangerous.

"Damien's not getting away with this."

"Lucian—"

"He drugged you. Tried to assault you. Put his hands on what's mine." His eyes flashed gold. "He's going to pay for that."

"What are you going to do?"

His smile was all teeth. No warmth.

"Teach him a lesson he'll never forget."

The way he said it made my pulse jump. Made heat pool low in my stomach.

God help me. I liked it when he got possessive.

"Eat," he said, pushing his plate toward me. "You need your strength."

"Why?"

"Because after breakfast, you're coming with me." He stood. Drained his coffee. Set the mug down with a sharp click. "We're going to remind Damien exactly who he tried to fuck with."

His eyes met mine. Gold. Blazing. Dangerous.

"And when I'm done with him, he's going to wish he'd never touched you."