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“The one and only.” Despite myself, and the situation, I smile.
Gabriel’s lips part, as if the knowledge that I treated him all those years ago brings him awe and delight. “It was you,” he repeats.
“I guarantee you, my stitching techniques have much improved.” My fingers slip lower, tracing a handful of cleaner white scars that crisscross down his forearm. “Even better than whoever stitched these other ones.”
“I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to show me very soon. I collect cuts easily and often.”
“Yeah, I…” A flash of disappointment slashes through me. It morphs into a disoriented confusion that I cannot interpret, and I bite my lower lip until it bleeds, hoping to hide it.
“What?” he asks softly.
“I…” I look up to meet his eyes. Swallow. Think—unbidden, unbound—that it would have been nice to never stop healing him. To be there every time he was in need of medical attention. To know that I’d be there for his next cut, his next illness, his next broken bone. “My mate is already very unhappy at the idea of me continuing to work. I doubt he’ll let me treat you ever again.” I let my arm fall to my side. My breath is sudden and deep and shuddering. Something is happening to me, something that has to do with Gabriel’s scent and my prolonged presence here, something I cannot fully understand.
“Love,” Gabriel tells me, little more than a whisper. His hand finds the side of my face and wraps around it. “Yourmatewill pay dearly forever thinking that he could tell you what to do.” For once, his tone sounds more like a promise than a threat, and the kiss he presses against my forehead feels like the stamp of his seal.
Chapter14
THE SCENT
Gabriel
Leaving her is about as easy as ripping out my own arm.
However, years of discipline count for something, and I make myself do it anyway. Still, when I join Martia in the elevators to go meet with the lieutenant generals, I’m in a shittier mood than usual. “Any news on last night’s explosion?” I ask.
“We’re still working on that,” she explains, “but there doesn’t seem to be much evidence tying it to House Larsen.”
“What about the rest?”
“They’re being very messy. Our informants have reported that Lord Laren reached out to the heads of the other Houses and tried to rope them into joining forces to overthrow you.”
I snort. “He’s so fucking predictable.”
“Yup. He got shut down, of course. Late last night he dragged Lennart and Gunner to speak to the council. Who reminded them of the concept of law.”
“Fantastic.” I nod. “That leaves them two options: take it on the chin, or launch another strike.”
“And we all know Lord Larsen would never choose the former.” She grins. “You gotta give it to Ivar—claiming the Right is having the effect we hoped on House Larsen. They seem to be getting sloppy and a little desperate, just like he predicted.”
“Ivarpredicted Lennart would object to the Right and give me a chance to kill him on the spot.”
“Okay, he may have been overly optimistic on the timing, but we’re getting there. Plus…”
I glance at her. “What?”
“It doesn’t seem like you mind.” At my lifted eyebrow, she elaborates, “Having the girl around, I mean.”
The elevator changes direction and begins to move vertically. I turn to Martia, my arms folded on my chest, and wait for her to continue. She has never been one to mince words.
“I have eyes, Gabe. And I’ve known you for fifteen years.”
I suck the inside of my cheek. “Both facts.”
“None of this is normal.”
“And by ‘this,’ you mean…?”
She gestures in my direction, entertained. “The way you’re letting some Omega you met less than twenty-four hours ago get under your skin while you’re at war with your political rival.”
