3

Night kept his expression neutral, but because I was standing so close to him, I felt his muscles tense at Lance’s hard handshake. Was he reacting to an injury I was unaware of? I needed to get him away from here soon.

I turned to Night and whispered in his ear. “Let’s go home.”

He nodded, slipping his arm around me again. His touch, combined with the prospect of heading home, reawakened my desire. Though we were eager to turn in, we didn’t want to make it seem like we were leaving because of Lance, so we ate some of the food Tavi and Dom brought us and let a few more Kings speak to us until we were finally ready to depart.

A few people stopped us on our way to the alpha cabin to give us their congratulations or to thank us, but we got home without too many interruptions. We made a beeline for the bedroom, and once the door closed behind us, I turned to my man and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I’m so relieved that you’re safe and sound,” I told him, my hands slipping down his chest to his waist. “And mine.”

He let out a deep chuckle as I curled my fingers into his waistband and tugged him closer. “I get the sense that you want to show me just how worried you were.”

“Mm-hmm.” I pressed my forehead to his chest, his heart beating against my skin.

“I should take a shower first,” he said. “I want to get Xavier’s scent off me.”

I pulled back, my nose scrunched up. Now that he’d mentioned it, I did smell Xavier’s musk and sweat on him.

“You’re right. Maybe I could join you?” I asked. “Let me draw you a bath.”

He raised his eyebrows, and I read the intrigue and lust in his jewel-green eyes. “Sounds like heaven.”

I grinned. “I thought you might say that.”

Leaving him to relax, I went into the bathroom and closed the door. Night would be able to smell most of what I was doing, but I liked the illusion of mystery. I turned on the faucet, and as the warm water filled the tub, I looked around for something that would help my mate’s aching body. In the cabinets, I found dried rose petals and eucalyptus leaves. There were also delicious-smelling bath soaps and salts, which I was sure would soothe Night’s bruises and scratches.

Humming to myself and thinking of the gorgeous man getting undressed in our bedroom, I poured everything into the rising water. Night had drawn baths for me and pampered me plenty of times during my first trimester, so doing something nice for him pleased me. When the bath was full enough and the vanilla-scented candles I placed around the tub were lit, I called for him to come in.

He opened the door, and my gaze eased down from his messy black hair to his broad, muscular chest, washboard abs, and finally to the length between his powerful legs. I still couldn’t quite fathom that this man was mine.

“Get in,” I murmured. “The water’s nice and warm.”

A slow smile spread across his face. He did as I said, easing himself into the water filled with sweet-smelling bubbles, red and pink petals, and forest-green eucalyptus leaves. He eased in until his hair was submerged, then he came back up, pushing the wet strands out of his face. Laughing, I grabbed a washcloth and sat on the side of the tub.

I dipped the cloth into the water and gently scrubbed his shoulders. Night let out a long sigh as my fingers pushed away dirt and debris. Despite the old scars puckering his shoulders, back, and chest, his skin was smooth and soft. Each of those old wounds held a story about a battle, and I wanted to hear about all of them one day because that pain had allowed him to gain experience and skill. That said, I was glad that this alpha challenge hadn’t added another one, and I was grateful that his experience and training had made the fight such an easy win for him.

When I was done washing his body, I squirted some shampoo into my hands. “I think I’ll move on to your hair.”

“Mm,” he agreed, leaning his head back against the tub.

I rubbed the shampoo between my palms, then pushed my fingers through his jet-black hair. It was already a bit longer than he usually wore it, almost to his shoulders. Night moaned as I massaged his scalp, his eyes slipping closed. I smiled to myself. I could feel every bit of stress and tension leaving his body as the seconds passed.

As I poured water over his hair to rinse out the shampoo, he suddenly winced and squeezed one of his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did I get some in your eye?”

“I think so,” he said.

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” I reached for a fresh washcloth and leaned closer to him. “Let me see.” I ran the cloth over his eyebrows, then used a different corner of it to wipe his eye. As I leaned even closer to him, my hair slipping over my shoulders to dip into the water, he reached out to touch my face. He held me still and sat up to kiss me. Each kiss was longer and deeper than the last.

“You liar,” I protested weakly as his kisses trailed from my lips to my jaw. “I thought you were hurt.”

His answering laugh stoked the fire within my core. “I’m not sorry,” my shameless mate murmured against my skin. “I’m not sorry for this, either.” He lifted his hand from the water to smooth down the skirt of my dress.

“You’re getting it wet,” I whined. But I didn’t stop him as his hand slipped under the skirt.