Page 44 of Bound to the Guard

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The wood of the bench feels cool beneath my thighs as I settle in front of the piano.

Damien hovers beside me, his brow furrowed with concern. “Do you need a cushion to sit on? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Heat rises to my cheeks as memories of yesterday flood my mind, Damien’s powerful hands gripping my hips, the delicious ache as he filled me, our moans mingling in the air. Blushing, I duck my head as happiness fills me. It’s nice having someone worry about me like this.

Foreign, but nice.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, my fingers brushing the smooth ivory keys.

Across the room, Milo gets Leo settled into a chair pulled from the library, his feet propped up on a footrest. Leo’s coaxing is what pulled me out of the suite today, to keep him company while everyone else is in a meeting about how best to take down the Doctor’s lab.

Damien invited me to join them, but the thought of being surrounded by so many people sounds overwhelming. I’d far rather play the piano with Leo listening.

The worry about Damien leaving me here alone twists in my stomach, but I try to shake it off. This is me taking back control of my life and building relationships outside of Damien, just like my therapist wants. One small step at a time.

Damien rubs the small of my back. “Are you sure? It’s no trouble if you want a pillow.”

“I won’t be able to reach the pedals if I sit on a cushion.” To demonstrate, I swing my feet on the bench, my feet only just grazing the floor. “Really, I’mfine.”

Milo snorts as he pours tea for the pregnant Omega, the amber liquid streaming into a delicate china cup. “Stop fussing over him, Damien. He said he’s fine.”

A growl rumbles in Damien’s throat, and he shoots a glare at Milo. “Shut up, brat.”

“It’s sweet.” Leo picks through the plate of sandwiches balanced on his stomach. “Nolan is always doing thoughtful things like that for me, too. It’s good to be cared for.”

“Youwouldthink that.” Milo rolls his eyes. “Nolan is the worst hoverer.”

But no real malice backs his words, and fondness softens his beautiful features. The two Omegas are beautiful, one golden sunlight and the other fiery red. My hand lifts to brush through my shaggy black hair. Damien had mentioned getting a trim, but I don’t want a stranger touching me.

Maybe I can cut it myself, though. I’m not delusional enough to think a new hairstyle will make me fit in with the other Omegas, but at least I would appear more kept.

With a last glower at Milo, Damien sets my blanket on the end of the bench, then peppers light kisses along my cheek and jaw, his warm breath tickling my skin. “Ignore them, sweetheart.You can return to our suite whenever you need to, okay? Don’t worry about offending Leo if you get too tired.”

“I know.” I lean into his touch, soaking up his affection. “Thank you.”

He pulls back to cup my cheek. “We’ll be in the banquet hall if you need me, okay? I’m just a shout away.”

He had pointed out the room with a twelve-person table where the meeting will be held on our way to the music room. “Okay.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Damien, stop fussing!” Milo’s exasperation cuts through our little bubble. “We need to go, or we’ll be late.”

Annoyance flashes across Damien’s handsome face, but he doesn’t argue. He turns back to me, cupping my cheek to press one last lingering kiss to my lips.

Then he straightens and strides out of the room, leaving Milo to chase his heels and me alone with Leo. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the ticking of the ornate clock on the mantel. My fingers tremble as I stare down at the black and white keys.

What if I mess up? What if I disappoint him? Anxiety hooks its claws into me, and breathing becomes hard. But my therapist taught me coping techniques, and I count backward to center myself. I can do this. Damien believes in me. Leo believes in me. I just need to believe in myself.

Calmer now, I turn to Leo, who contentedly munches on a sandwich. “What would you like me to play?”

“To be honest, I don’t know much about classical music.” He rubs his belly. “It’s supposed to be good for babies to listen to it in the womb. At least, that’s what Nolan’s baby books claim.”

“Got it.” My fingers hover over the keys. It’s been a while, and the songs I learned aren’t technically classical, but they alwayssoothed me. With a deep inhalation, I exhale slowly, the tension draining from my shoulders.

Soft notes fill the room as I play, and Leo leans his head back, a contented smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

As the melody flows through me, I forget all the fear, the uncertainty, the guilt. It all drifts away, leaving only the music.

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