I awaken to the sound of running water, slipping in and out of the depths of total depletion and attempting to surface behind my heavy lids. I'm in a strange state of limbo, where I'm mentally aware but my body feels stretched out, loose and unhinged from my weary joints. 

I feel like I've aged overnight, my body refusing to cooperate. I feel for the ends of my toes and fingers, tempting myself to flex them and think through their reach for some sense of where I was. In my mind, I tempted myself to stay asleep, for it had to be better than the torture waiting for me once I woke. 

Finding it difficult to fathom the way that we escaped, I take my small moment of peace to come to terms with my impending demise. I didn't have many regrets, maybe confronting the man instead of using my abilities to keep us covered. As my fingers slowly spread, I feel the soft fabric of the sheets under my palms. 

Cool to my touch, I slowly closed them on the material, gripping to this plain where I was safe in my bed and no longer dying on a snowy floor in a death camp. 

 Relaxing into the familiar scent of cologne from the plush sheets, I turn my head to peek through my lashes and note the sun pouring into the room from the crack in the heavy curtains. Tiny fibers of dust particles dance in the light from the movement. Any sunlight would indicate we weren't in the compound, meaning we had survived.

 We had come home, to Marisol's. My face ached, my ribs protested the movement, but all together, I was alive. 

Touching my naked form, I note that I appear to have been wiped clean, but the residue of the night prior still remained. I felt gritty, and unkempt, though I imagine my limp self was challenging to manage. Lifting my hand, I admire the bruising that had begun on my wrists from where they were bound and track it up to my arm from the multiple times I had been grabbed, pushed, and struck.

 More marks, more memories, but at least I could remember them. I flop my arm back down on the bed and watch the ceiling as I will myself to get up, listening to the familiar sound of a faucet filling the large tub. I test my reach, thinking of the temperature, and feel the dwindling remains of my magic protest at the offerings.

It would take me a few days to recover.

"Yes. Tonight at seven. Yes. It will be small, rest assured. Yes. Please tell security to be on standby. I'm counting on you, Ron." 

He walks into the room and pauses when he notes movement; clicking the phone off, he sets it on the dresser, bending down to peer at me over the edge of the bed. In his hands, he holds a tray of fruits and some scrambled eggs. "I thought I'd heard you wake up."

Rolling onto my side, I take him in, he's wearing a pair of glasses that protect his sensitive eyes from the lighting on his computer screens. The sight amuses me though I can't say the look isn't appealing. "I got cold." The chill creeps over my form so soundly. Nearing the bed, he presses the back of his hands to my cheek as concern crosses his face.

"Darling-"

"Please don't, Randy. I really just can't think about this right now." I pleaded with him, imploring him not to press further into why I was malfunctioning. I couldn't bear it, with all we had going on, considering that I was broken might be what caused me to slip over the edge.

 After a moment of sulking, I push myself up onto my palms. "I'm getting up, I want to get back to the Dead City."

My legs slip out from under the sheets, and I scoot to the edge of the bed, only to have him settle the tray in my lap. My mouth waters, and I allow my dreams for redemption to be put on hold as I dig into the fruit bowl with enthusiasm.

 Smiling at my willingness to eat, he departs quickly to turn off the faucet. Clouds of steam billow from the bathroom door, and I wolf down my breakfast in an uncharacteristic fashion.

Tempting as it might be to hold onto my dignity, my charge to the Dead City could wait. The warmth of the bathroom was too inviting, too tempting; my body begged me for mercy. I was sore, tired, battered, and broken, a soak would prepare me for the work ahead. 

As soon as I finish, I make my way to the bathroom to slide into the inviting tub, the hot water warms my chilled body, and I settle in with an appreciative groan. "Who were you talking to on the phone?"

"Ron." He allows stiffly, though he hides it well. "How're you feeling?"

Better than I expected. "As good as I can feel considering our predicament." Eyeing him as I run the sponge over my arm, I see he is well aware of what I'm after, and he offers me my favorite look. "Care to tell me how it is we ended up here?"

"We were transported back to the Dead City via magic." He tells me, almost bored with it as he sits on the tub's rim. In just a thin white shirt and some thinner shorts, he's already sweating from the heat. His soft, silvering hair indicates he's already showered for the day; he probably washed last night, knowing him. 

"That's it?"

Verando ponders this, folding his hands in his lap as he composes his thoughts. "Tiberius accessed the Celestial Being, and I considered going to the City hall. He was able to transfer us there, I'm not well-versed in your magical vocabulary. What was quite interesting is Gabriel let us go, the wraiths were escaping the forest, and he allowed us to leave." 

His words catch me off guard, and I almost choke on my surprise. Splashing water as I drop the sponge, he tsks at me in disappointment, brushing the water off his shorts.

"Let us go?" I demand. 

"It surprised me too."

"Just seems unlikely. Did he give anything away?"

Thinking about this, he tents his shirt, fanning himself as he tries to deal with the sweltering temperature in which I enjoy my bath. His hair darkens, matting down to his head. 

"He told us he looked forward to speaking in the future. Honestly, he saved our lives. We could not have fought off the wraiths; they would have followed us back. Now, granted, I believe he placed the wraiths there; it was quite a difference from our normal foes."

 We did see Gabriel harvesting them, yet bringing them to this world took an immense amount of power in the opening and closing of the portals. Was that to say he did all of this all by himself? 

Stirring the bathwater with my feet, I lean back and rinse myself. 

The wraiths were powering his dark magic, which could allow him to use mind control. He could move quietly, in and out of the city, without us seeing him. He was incredibly powerful, perhaps more powerful than me, but how? With no schooling? "I agree." I finally allowed it. "He's using the wraiths. But why help us?"

Verando shrugs,  crossing his arms over his chest. "He said he values life."

I snort out loud, finding it hard to envision a value of life considering he was involved with bounty hunters and the slaughter of magical beings. "Yet he was friends with Red? Not buying it."

His expression contorts, and I know there's more he wants to say."Nic. I need you to be honest with me." I want to remind him that he often kept things from me. Lying wasn't really in my forte; if I did, I often came clean about it shortly after. "Can you do that? Can you answer me truthfully?"

"Of course, but I don't-"

"Did you recognize Gabriel? Did he look familiar to you?"

The same thought had crossed my mind. Did I know him? 

I felt like I didn't know anything anymore. Our world had been turned upside down and inside out so many times; what was there possibly left to believe? He could be anyone from our past, brought back, but in the pit of my stomach, I had a hunch. 

"I have a suspicion about who he is." I allow. As he waited, I knew now why he asked for honesty because sharing this information could change the outcome of our handling of this individual. I pull my lips into a thin line with a slow, calm sigh. "It's too soon to say."

"Nic-"

It's my turn to change the subject. "Did you do nothing else last night than talk about me and Gabriel?"

With a frustrated sigh, he runs a hand through his hair, threatening to tangle from the heat of the bathwater. It's beginning to grow out again, the length returning in a way that brings back the slight curl. 

I began to relax as he gave me a recap of the events, the assignments he handed out, and what we expected from the new recruits, Helen, and Tyler. It seemed as though things were finally starting to fall into place; our pieces were no longer so scattered, and this task force was beginning to shape into something we could rely on despite the setback. 

Gaining new members would be a huge plus, giving us more eyes, coverage, and options. There was room to breathe and the freedom to indulge in my favorite pastime.

As he spoke, my eyes trailed down his body, his posture rigid as he perched on the tub's edge. The thin material of the pale shirt clings to his chest and across his shoulders in a way that accentuates the contours of his musculature as he reacts to the heat. 

I conjure more steam to moisten the material further, distracted by the specimen in front of me. As much as I was interested in the happenings of our community, with my worries soothed and spending two days fearing for our lives, I was itching to reconnect. 

"Bloody hell, are you cooking yourself?" He brings me out of my musings with his deep tone, tugging at the shirt to free himself of the restrictive material.

I feign surprise, resting my elbow on the edge of the tub to lean my cheek on my knuckles. "Of course not. Are you getting hot?"

"Yes!" Verando complains, "I don't know how you stand it."

I catch my lower lip in my teeth, pulling water into my hand as subtly as I can manage. "I quite like the heat." With a casual toss, the water splashes on his chest, causing him to gasp in surprise. In a movie I'd seen, the effect of the shirt would be pretty magnificent. 

I had not anticipated the pale tiles' slickness or a skilled hunter's knee-jerk reaction. Losing his footing, he slipped off the tub's rim and crashed to the floor in a rather undignified fashion with a loud thump and a myriad of cursing. 

My hand shoots over my mouth as I leap out of the tub, effectively drenching him with the splash of water my motion creates. "Oh shit! Randy, I'm so sorry!" 

"What in God's name were you thinking?" He wasn't hurt or damaged in any way, though we'd managed to crack a few tiles. Verando demands an answer from me, his voice rough with shielded frustration. 

Dropping down to rest on my hip, I take in my drenched warlord with my best attempt to hide my amusement. It wasn't often I caught him unaware. Shyly, I pluck his shirt, but not enough to sacrifice how it clings to his skin. Practically see-through, creating the desired effect of strained material crossed sun-kissed plains of masculinity and toned efforts.

 My mouth waters all over again as my hand rests on his chest.

"I saw it in a movie, not quite like this, though. You weren't supposed to fall."

Making a face, he sets his jaw, and I touch his head to make sure he's not bleeding. "Sorry to disappoint."

I can't help but chuckle, "Oh, I'm not disappointed, not in the least." Bending, I kiss him gently and brush his hair back. "Let me... make it up to you?" I trail my fingers down the drenched material towards the clinging shorts, and his hand leaves his head to clutch mine, warning me with his eyes. 

"You're a hopeless romantic." Verando doesn't sound enthralled with my attempts, his tone dry as he sits up. The visible flinch brings me to heel as I control my impulses to see he's in no mood for my advances. "I'm quite sore, darling."

"From the fall? I've seen you take harder hits than that?" I can't help the pout that my mood produces, unsure of what's wrong with me that makes me take this rejection so personally. I'm not used to denial; his body had always been at my disposal.

Verando inspects my bruised arms, kissing the rope burns on my wrist and tangling his fingers in mine. I admire the ring on my left hand with a small smile as he seems to be eyeing it, too. 

"From running miles and miles with you seated so graciously upon my back? Then, getting kicked across a clearing and chased by a dragon? Hoisted into the sky by a wraith, dropped and thrown down a hill. Drugged and thrown into a cell, emotionally, I think I'm even worse off than physically." 

All at once, I feel the embarrassment overtake me, and I rein myself in. He was always so stoic, he hadn't mentioned it before. 

"Do these hurt?" He kisses my wrist gently.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit forgetful, I guess. The drugs seem to be hitting me a little differently than everyone else. It's just been a while since..." I mumble, causing him to laugh and allowing my shoulders to relax. Thankfully, it would appear I'm forgiven. "Does that amuse you? And no, they don't hurt."

"It's been days." he reminds me, kissing my forehead as he climbs to his feet and pulls me to mine. Days might as well be weeks or months, considering when we first met, there was hardly a moment we could be apart. "Sometimes I forget you're in your twenties. I'm glad we're not the same age; we'd never get anything done."

 His words don't bring me the same relief as I resist temptation. 

"Would you like to come with me to this event? Seems like we had a bit of fun last time you came." 

I vaguely recall that the senator turned into a lycan the last time I was at one of these parties. "Depends, are they giving you away again?" 

I left him to clean as I couldn't possibly do it right. Toweling off, I scrub my hair and relish the feeling of warmed skin and cleanliness. Perhaps I was ready to be king again? Placing the towel on the bed, I snag one of the remaining grapes off the tray and smirk at the warmth behind me, offering him the other half as he hugs me from behind. 

"Would you like to play? I might not have you to your liking, but I can perhaps pique your interest." 

I raise an eyebrow at the question and glance over my shoulder at him. 

"I thought you were sore? You didn't answer my question." I remind him, half-hearted.

Pressing his lips to the base of my neck, he smiles against my skin. "It's not for me; it's for you. This conference will take a bit of time; it will keep you... entertained.. while we are apart." 

With a firm smack on my ass, I jump in surprise and tentatively nod as he instructs me to bend over the bed. "No, they're not auctioning me off. They're going to speak with me about our wedding and my plans for the tour in France, Tiberius will be there as well."

 I hear him opening the bedside drawer and the lube bottle's distinctive pop. 

"Just basic questions, creating public interest."

Scoffing, I glance over my shoulder once more. "You are really excited about this wedding, aren't you?"

Verando hesitates, trailing his fingers slowly down my spine as he takes me in. "Quite." So proper. Slapping my ass once more, I jolt as he takes one of my legs and lifts it onto the bed to expose me properly to him. Kneeling behind me, my body shivers in response as I tip my head down, restraining the plea that so desperately wants to come from my lips as he uses his tongue on my entrance. "Are you?"

 Was I? I was trying not to think about it. The broad hands collect my hips, pinning me as he teases me. "I'm excited to give you what I promised finally." I breathe, blushing darkly, wondering just how sinful this man was. How could he perform such acts so easily? Just as I begin to enjoy it, he leaves me. "When can we see our little boy?" I still can't believe it; the words feel so foreign on my tongue.

"You're terrible at foreplay." He doesn't want to think about it; I know it's hard for him but I'd wanted this for so long. 

Inserting his fingers inside of me, I groan as he finds my sweet spot, unable to stop myself from trying to press my thighs together. I can practically feel him smirking as he stands, pinning me down with a hand on the small of my back while working me over with his fingers. My body was reluctant to submit; I suppose I was more sore than I thought. I struggled to relax; my body felt foreign to me. 

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to take this." Verando teases; I tense as the third finger enters me. 

I hear the crinkle of a bag and steal a glance only to see a moderately sized black object that appears smooth. I freeze, stiffening at the sight and causing him to laugh, the boyish grin curling to dimple his cheek. 

"It's a toy, a plug. Marcello showed them to me, they look quite fun. You'll wear this for the duration of the interview." His confidence in me did not match my own. I swallow hard, not knowing what to expect. "Don't look so afraid; they're supposed to feel good." 

"So you tried it?" I ask shortly. 

"Do you want me to stop?" He pauses his teasing; I feel the burn in my stomach; while my body might be slow to catch on, my libido is front and center. 

After a brief moment, I shake my head. 

"That's a good boy." Verando exhales, spreading my cheek as he inspects his handy work. 

"Please," I beg. "You're driving me insane." 

"I'm just savoring what belongs to me, making sure everything is in working order. We were at hell's doorstep last night; I'm feeling sentimental." He explains, pressing the toy to my entrance as my breath catches. It almost feels too big; I clutch the sheets and curl my toes as he inserts the plug firmly inside me. The base holds it in place, cramming it dangerously into my sweet spot.

I want him to move, to do something, anything to me, but not to leave me like this. Smacking my ass once more, I jump and can't stop the desperate moan that escapes my lips. Covering my mouth, I'm horrified by the sound he just produced from so little. 

"You don't say?" Verando chuckles, slamming his clothes hips against my ass as he yanks me back into him. I whimper again, making him sigh, knowing that there's no way in hell he would be giving me any relief. "Go ahead, get up." 

I straighten, my back pressed against him, and inhale sharply at the feeling. I feel strange, full, and yet so painfully empty. Verando kisses a line from my ear to my shoulder point, "What I wouldn't give to stay here and devour every inch of you. Get dressed. I had Ron drop off a suit for you."

"A suit?" I complain.

There's no room for discussion as he leaves to begin his primping in the bathroom. "Humor me. Get dressed."