Page 121 of Ulune's Daughter

We linger through goodbyes, each saying them several times before finding something else we want to say. Finally, I tap the button, fire off a text to Teddy, and climb out of my reading nest to find Lawson.

He’s in his bedroom. Dressed in a tailored suit that shows off every strong line of his body. I quickly wipe the drool from the corners of my mouth.

“Skiing, huh?” he asks.

“You overheard?”

“Cait,” he responds. I have a feeling that’s going to be his answer to a lot of things. “I’m glad. Work things out with him and then come back to me.”

I nod, glancing away as I start to think through the things I need to pack. Lawson’s arms close around me. Benighted Mother, he can move fast.

“Don’t mistake my concession for lack of desire, Kellan,” he whispers harshly against my cheek. “You belong here with me. I’ll be counting the minutes until you come back. Too many minutes and I’ll come for you. I won’t make the same mistake a third time.”

I cup his cheek, stroking his high cheekbone with my thumb. “Neither will I. You’ve given me a haven. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Cait House is always open to you, Kellan. It will always be your haven.”

“Cait House is lovely. I’ve felt very welcome here. But it’s not my haven.” I caress his jaw. “You are.”

The expression that breaks over his face isn’t easy to describe, or witness. It’s more than emotional honesty, or vulnerability, or anything I’ve been giving to these men. It’s excruciating in its naked need.

I push up on to my toes and kiss him thrice. Once gently. Once with passion. And once, driving my lip onto the points of his fangs so my blood seeps into his mouth. He sucks on my cut lip until I can’t taste copper anymore.

“Two nights,” he murmurs roughly against my lips. “That’s all I can stand. I’ll come for you on the morning of the third day.”

“I’ll be here for breakfast.”

“Call me every hour.”

I laugh and shake my head. “No. But I’ll call after breakfast and before dinner. Don’t answer if you’re busy. Just know I was thinking about you and looking forward to coming back to you.”

He slips his hand up my back, over my shoulder, and thumbs my lip gently. “I will answer. And I’ll try not to call you every hour.”

I slip my fingers into the neckline of the ridiculously soft top he’s given me and pull out one of my necklaces: a single, lumpy, misty-gray pearl on a silver chain. I hold it up and wait for him to nod before I loop it over his head and tuck it down behind his silk tie.

“That’s a pearl I found on Isla Cedros. After a storm. My first year on the island. The chance of finding a natural pearl on a beach is ridiculously remote. Something like one in twenty billion. I took it as a sign I was meant to be there. I drilled it myself, just using my Air magic. A friend who enchants stones helped me with a breathing charm, so no matter where I am, under the ocean or two miles in the air, I’ll always be able to breathe. Keep it against your heart.”

His hand covers his chest, his fingers rolling the pearl against his skin. “What if you need this? What if you get buried in an avalanche?”

“Drowning in the hot tub is more likely,” I say, teasing him. “I promise I won’t do either. And I’ll be back for it. I just want you to have something of mine while I’m gone.”

“I want you to have something of mine, too. Come with me.” When I start to protest that I need to pack, he snatches my hand and tugs. “It won’t take long.”

He pulls me back to the library and leads me into the stacks. He finds a block of thick leather folios on a middle shelf.

“I’ll hide something else for you to find. I still want those kisses for every clue you solve. But I want you to have this now.” He tips the block of leather folios forward. They’re hollow, and something smaller rattles within the drawer they make among the other books.

When he nods, I reach into the fake folios. My fingertips find a small box. I bring it out and hold it on my palm.

It’s a small ring box. Red leather with a fancy clasp.

He flicks the clasp and opens the box. For a second, the witchlight glints on metal and diamond and my breath catches.

He takes a gold ring out of the little box. He turns the ring slightly and the light runs over the stone and band, picking up the colors. Icy, almost transparent blue and gold. Two pale stones set into a sleek cat’s head in the place of eyes.

I hold out my right hand and Lawson slips the ring onto my middle finger.

“Ring of the Cait,” he says gruffly. “As long as you wear it, all cats will call you friend.”

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