Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Xavier gave him a faint smile and nod. “As he should.” He looked down at the nephrite before slipping it into his pocket. Then he walked to the draugr and searched the body. “The stones aren’t on it, so they’ve been stashed, and there’s no way for us to know where. I can destroy the arm ring—have it melted down—but without the stones, the lich will still be in some state of life. Without all the pieces, though, it shouldn’t be able to truly live again.”
“So, it’ll be stuck in some kind of stasis?” Ivor asked.
“Yes. It will basically be trapped in only part of an existence. A literal hell, so to speak.”
“Is there no spell to track the gems?”
Xavier shook his head. “They are lost to us. We can only destroy what we have. It will be enough.”
Ivor finally looked at Rowan, who was leaning against the door, relief in every part of his relaxed frame. Sheathing his daggers as he walked to him, Ivor couldn’t help the swell of elation he felt in having killed the draugr. He didn’t care about the lich. It could hang in suspended animation for an eternity. All he cared about was right here in front of him, looking at him as if he’d hung the moon.
“Thank you,” Rowan said softly. “I knew I was scared this whole time, but I hadn’t realized just how much. Thank you so much. I know Xavier didn’t want it killed, but…” He paused and glanced at Xavier, who was now walking toward the door. “But I’m still glad. It got out before, so I was afraid it would again.”
“So was I,” Ivor answered as he took Rowan into his arms and whispered against his neck, “I want you safe. Completely safe.”
“Thanks to you, I am,” Rowan whispered back as he hugged him tight.
Chapter Eighteen
Rowan
Watching Ivor fight was like witnessing a dance of grace and skill. He’d leaped and spun, his deadly blades sweeping through the air with unerring accuracy.
Though Rowan had mostly felt fear with that draugr so close, he’d also felt this overwhelming awe and admiration. And not a little lust. To know that this skilled, powerful preternatural was interested in him frankly filled him with delight.
But he was also feeling an overwhelming sense of relief that the draugr was dead. He knew Xavier was disappointed that they wouldn’t be tracking down the lich, but he knew that he’d always be scared the draugr would somehow get to him once let loose again.
Ivor had known that. Had thought the same.
As they walked back into the building, Rowan reached out and threaded his fingers with Ivor’s. Those dark eyes turned his way, and the look they shared sent warmth streaming through him.
Now that the draugr was dead, Rowan didn’t have to stay sequestered in the office. They would finally have some privacy. Anticipation hummed in his stomach, his heart starting to race. He’d finally get to put his hands all over Ivor’s beautiful body. And from the heat in Ivor’s brown eyes, the incubus was thinking the same thing.
Everyone met in Xavier’s office, but there wasn’t much to discuss. Xavier had sent wizards to clear the body they’d left in the parking lot. Rowan was too restless to pay attention to the conversation, eating up Ivor with his gaze before glancing at Xavier to find a small smirk on his lips.
“You are safe to leave, Rowan,” Xavier said as he held up the arm ring. “I know this is a family heirloom, but—”
“I don’t want it back,” Rowan interrupted. “I never want to touch that thing again. Do what you want with it.”
Xavier just nodded.
By the time they wrapped up, Rowan was a mass of nerves. He and Ivor walked back into the main area of the office before Ivor put a hand on his arm.
“Would you like to come to my place?”
Rowan’s nod came embarrassingly quickly. “May I use your shower?”
“Of course. I want you to feel at home there. I’ll order us in some food. I can either set you up in a hotel or if you’d like… You can stay with me.”
Rowan, conscious of all the listening ears around them, gave Ivor a pointed look. “I want to be with you,” he whispered. “Do you want that?”
“More than anything.”
“Then let’s go to your place. I need to stop by a drugstore, if that’s okay.”
“Anything. I’m just happy I’m finally going to get you alone.”
By the time they reached Ivor’s apartment, Rowan was fairly shaking with expectation and excitement.
Ivor’s place was damn nice. He was on the fourth floor, and the apartment they walked into was mainly a wide-open space. The kitchen boasted state-of-the-art appliances, warm black granite counters, and that room was open to the living room. There were an overstuffed leather couch and two burgundy chairs, along with coffee table, side tables, and a gorgeous antique display cabinet.