Page 37 of Veiled Yearning

Nicolas gave Elias this chilling smile, like a viper about to strike. As long as you keep her alive, do whatever you like. If she fights you; the more pain, the better.

Alone in the shower, cold sweat breaking out all over my body, I was struck with the urge to find Chiara immediately. To barricade her behind shielded walls and rally all of my allies across the country to protect her. To do anything, anything to keep her safe.

The thought of Nicolas getting his hands on Chiara? It’s not just terrible, it’s abhorrent. Unacceptable.

I can’t let it happen. Not Chiara, who’s quickly become so much more than a friend. The woman who I think about more than I ever expected.

After so many years of steadfastly avoiding entanglements with women, Chiara somehow slipped past my defenses. She’s brave and kind and beautiful, and her vulnerability tugs at me, filling me with this rabid need to protect her. Not just protect her, but do whatever I can to make her happy.

Like watching fantasy movies with her instead of spending the evening strategizing with the other Sentinels. Sitting by the fire, talking and drinking blood-laced wine. Setting up a picnic in the library for her.

I never thought I could feel this way about a woman. And I didn’t really want to.

If things were different, if I was different, maybe I’d actually pursue this. I would have kissed Chiara a few nights ago, instead of pulling away. But she wants safety and stability and a little house with cats and dogs. She wants something serious, and I can’t give that to her.

It would be wrong of me to kiss Chiara when she’s so vulnerable, knowing what she wants. Knowing I’m not the man for her. She deserves more than what I can give her.

So I’m not going to give in to my desire. Even though she looked so damn beautiful; her cheeks flushed with pleasure, dark eyes wide and wanting, framed by the longest lashes I’ve ever seen. And her lips… full, rosy, slightly parted, inviting me in…

No. My job is to protect Chiara and the rest of my allies. Not spend my time thinking about things that aren’t going to happen.

Which is why I’m meeting with Frederick and Larkin, instead of watching the sun rise with Chiara like we’ve been doing every other morning since she got here. I stopped by her room on the way to this meeting, partly to let her know I’d be busy, and partly to get the visual assurance that she was actually okay. I needed to see with my own eyes that Chiara was safe in her bedroom, secure in the house she spent hours shielding.

She was fine, obviously. With all of Chiara’s imbued tokens, and Cait here at the house, we’ll know if another vampire comes near. And Knight and Sam are here—Sam just arrived yesterday after meeting with some allies in Burlington—so we have added protection for the women.

Still. I worry.

Frederick and I are sitting in my office waiting for Larkin to finish up with a phone call, both of us in leather chairs flanking a slate coffee table. We each have a half-finished glass of blood in front of us—since we haven’t been leaving my house, we’re forced to use blood bags instead of heading into Manchester to feed. Fortunately, I’ve been stockpiling blood in anticipation of this sort of situation, so we’re covered for at least the next couple of weeks.

The room is quiet, tension thick in the air.

I gave Frederick the basics of my vision when we got in here, so he knows why I’m concerned. We both are. And with Larkin on an urgent phone call from Lucas, I can only assume the news isn’t going to be good.

Frederick glances across the coffee table at me, his gaze dark and appraising. After a moment, he says, “You’re worried. More than usual.”

“No.” Yes. The worn leather crinkles as I lean forward in my chair. “It’s just… something we need to discuss. Just like any of my visions.”

“Hmm.” He leans back and gives me a long look. “You look worried.”

I scowl at him. “I’m concerned. About Sentinel business. As I should be.”

One eyebrow arches up. “And it has nothing to do with it being about Chiara?”

“Of course not.” But my friend of almost two hundred years keeps staring at me until I grumble, “Fine. It has something to do with it being about Chiara.”

He smirks, but a moment later, his expression sobers. “It’s okay, you know. Caring about her.”

“That’s not—”

The door to the office swings open, and Larkin walks into the room, frowning. His voice is somber as he greets us. “Frederick. Gavril. I have news.”

Frederick lifts his chin at him. “Larkin. Sit. We have a lot to talk about.”

I meet Larkin’s solemn gaze and give him a quick nod. “I have news, as well.”

Larkin sinks down in the empty wingback chair next to me. He sighs, his shoulders slumping for a moment before straightening again. Strain is etched into his features, and I’m reminded that of the three of us in this room, he’s been at this the longest.

He cuts right to the point. “Lucas and Nylah had a run-in with the Custodians.”

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