“Huh,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What?” Kett asked.
He touched her back. “You know how you can change your appearance? Did you fade out these scars?”
“No. Why would I? They’re covered up.”
“Yeah.” Bael took her hand, moved it to her back, and ran it up and down where her scars should have been.
The skin was disturbed by a few faint ridges, and nothing more.
“What the
“I kissed them better,” Bael said, still stroking her back. “They’re still there, just faded a lot.”
“But…how, Bael?” She turned to face him. “Where the hell has this power suddenly come from?”
He cupped her face in his hands. His green eyes were intense, honest, powerful. “You,” he said.
“I don’t understand,” Kett whispered, although she feared she did.
“My parents mated young,” he said. “Perhaps they found their powers at the same time. I’ll never know. But I’m wondering,” he stroked her face, “if Mage powers are linked to mates. If I’m only realizing my full potential now that I’m with you.”
Kett stared.
“It’s the only explanation I can think of,” he said.
“Maybe,” Kett began. “Maybe it’s…”
But she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her mouth felt very dry.
Bael kissed her, very soft and sweet, his hands framing her face, and her body melted into his. Oh hell. Seeing Striker naked earlier hadn’t elicited the tiniest response from her, and she’d known women to fall into orgasmic swoons just at the sight of him fully clothed. But Bael’s arms around her, his lips on hers, his tongue gently playing with hers, made her weak-kneed and dizzy and sent a pulse of heat through her whole body.
“I’m your mate,” she said shakily, and Bael’s eyes were warm.
“Yes, you are.”
“That’s it. Final. We can’t change it.”
He shook his head, smiling gently.
“I ain’t having kids,” she said, trying desperately to dissuade him, even though she knew there was no point.
“You don’t have to.”
“And-and-I’m not getting involved in Nasc crap. I’m staying with Jarven at the ranch. He needs someone to take care of him.”
“Sure. I wouldn’t try to stop you.”
Panic fluttered in her veins. “I-I don’t want…”
Bael smoothed her hair and waited. Kett let out a shaky breath. “Bael, I-you-I’m not normal.”
“It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“And I don’t-I can’t-every time I try to get involved with anyone, when I get close, with my family or with the Order, when I try to do what I’m supposed to, it all ends up…really bad.”
“What you’re supposed to do? Who says what you’re supposed to do?”
“Well-well, you’re saying I’m supposed to be your mate-”
“I’m saying you
His tone was gentle, his expression warm, but there was a flicker of insecurity behind his eyes.
“Kett, it’ll be okay. I’m not asking anything of you. I don’t expect anything of you. I love who you are, right now, scars and everything. I love how brave you are, how kind you are even when you don’t want to be, how you’re frightened and angry and vulnerable and spiky and brilliant. I love everything about you.”
Kett gazed at him, stunned. Bael slowly twirled a curl of her hair around his finger and spoke carefully, as if he was still thinking through what he was saying.
“I’m not here because of this mate thing. I mean, I think it’s real and true, but that’s not why I’m here.” His voice gathered speed. “I came for you when I thought you weren’t my mate. I came for you when I thought you’d cheated on me and killed my mother. And if you proved to me right now conclusively that I’m not your mate and never will be, I would still come for you. I’d still want you and love you. I love you, Kett. I-”
He broke off, as if he’d run on too far, too fast, and his intense gaze dipped, darted away.
Kett grabbed his face and kissed him.
She’d never expected to hear something like that from anybody. She’d never even allowed herself to think of it. Romance and pretty words weren’t for scarred, damaged people like her. Eithne and Beyla and Giselle, delicate feminine girls, inspired speeches like that.
Part of her said it was just Bael talking bollocks again, but it was only a small part, and being drowned out by the big, loud, desperate need inside her to believe him. And that scared Kett more than anything else. She’d never wanted to believe anyone so badly.
She let Bael go and both of them were breathing hard. His eyes blazed green fire at her.
“I love everything about you, Kett Almet,” he said again, and Kett tugged him toward the sofa, tumbling and smiling and even laughing. It felt so damn good to laugh. She’d forgotten the last time she really laughed hard at anything.
Bael kissed her neck, her shoulder, pushing her shirt open and then tugging it off over her head when it got in the way. In a grand gesture, he threw her shirt into the fireplace, where his fireball gobbled it up.
“Uh,” Kett began to protest, but Bael just smiled wickedly and said, “Sweetheart, you’re not going to need it,” and smoothed back her hair to kiss her extravagantly, pulling her body against his until she was almost in his lap.
He kissed her so magnificently, Kett might not have minded if they didn’t do anything else. There was something so wonderfully liberating about giving in and knowing she couldn’t fight against him anymore. She was stuck with him, and she might as well take advantage of that.
She slid her hand inside his shirt, over the smooth skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles jump at her touch. Smiling against his mouth, she slid one leg over his, wrapped it around his waist and kissed him on and on as he worked his thumb over her nipple, through her bra.
The lace created a wonderful friction against her extremely sensitive flesh. For once, Kett was grateful to Nuala for buying her fancy underwear.
Impatient to touch more of him, she tugged at his shirt, and when Bael gave her a smoldering look she ripped the fabric off him and tossed it on the floor.
“Nice,” he growled, and rewarded her by sucking her nipple into his mouth through the fabric of her bra.
The hot wetness of his mouth through the softly abrading lace made Kett’s head swim. Her fingers dug into his hair and a moan escaped her lips. His tongue tortured her through the bra, until her hips were bucking and her back arching as she tried to get more of the glorious heat and pleasure. Digging her fingers into his arms, she moved one of his hands to her other breast and fumbled behind her own back to unfasten the bra.
When the fabric went slack, Bael looked up and grinned at her, then yanked it off and tossed it away. This time it didn’t go in the fire, but Kett wouldn’t have cared if it had. Bael’s mouth was back on her breast, this time with no barrier between them, and she thought she might come just from that.
His hand slid down her stomach, caressing her and making her muscles tense. His bare skin was heaven against hers, hot and smooth and dusted with just enough soft hair to tease her flesh. Every inch of her felt extra sensitized, especially where he touched her. Even the brush of her own hair against her shoulders was driving her wild.
Bael’s fingers unfastened her fly and slid inside, just a little bit, teasing her dark curls but not darting any lower. Maddened, Kett tried to wriggle out of her unyielding leathers but was tangled up in Bael so much it was impossible.
His teeth scraped her nipple and she realized he was laughing. “Want a hand, sweetheart?”
