Chapter 310. Babysitting

Chapter 310: 310. Babysitting

Maisie

"I... I don’t know," I whispered, trying to maintain my defenses, but the pull was overwhelming.

His hand on my belly tightened, his fingers tracing up along my ribs, dragging Quinlan’s shirt even higher until my bare back was pressed to his burning torso.

My back arched as I exhaled harshly, dropping my head back into the pillows, and his lips pressed hard against Quinlan’s mark.

A fever broke out under my skin, forcing a shiver from me. My pulse was roaring in my ears and my breath came in ragged, helpless hitches. He pulled on the mark and I moaned softly, pushing back against him at the wonderful sensation.

His hardness pressed flush into the curve of my butt and my inner walls spasmed so violently, we both groaned.

Jericho’s was harsher and layered, his breath coming in hot, shallow rasps against my skin. I felt teeth. And I felt claws on my skin. His Lycan was lurking, and rather than make me pause, the haze of danger rolling off him made me wanton.

I rocked my hips backwards and he hissed. "Malyshka," he warned.

The air between us felt thin, his arousal mingling with mine, creating a cocktail of aphrodisiacs. His cock pulsed against me through the sweats and his hold tightened again as he struggled for control.

His hands curled and uncurled, and I knew he was thinking about it. Flipping me onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head and tearing of my clothes.

He groaned again, his fangs grazing the sensitive dip of me with enough pressure to curl my toes, and when the rich scent of copper permeated the air, Jericho drew his mouth away from my neck.

It was too sudden, and it left me unsatisfied.

I reached behind me where I could still feel how hard he was, but he caught my wrist and trapped it against my stomach.

I tried to turn in his arms but he held fast, refusing me the chance to touch him. "Go to sleep, malyshka."

Sleep? He had gotten me all hot, completely bothered, my blood humming like a live wire, and now he wanted us to go to sleep?

Disappointment settled heavy on my chest and my blood steamed, demanding I twisted, grabbed him by his ridiculous, handsome jaw, and made him finish what he started, but my stubborn pride slammed the brakes on that train. There was no way in hell I was going to beg. Absolutely not.

Closing my eyes, I struggled to get my thoughts in order, but instead, I found something else to be angry about as my eyes flew open. "Did you put another chip inside me while I was sick?"

I had thought Quinlan didn’t know I’d pulled out the chip when he mentioned it earlier. But the more I thought about it, the more unlikely it was. Hell, they’d cleaned me up through my own damned period.

It couldn’t get any more intrusive than that.

Jericho shifted slightly behind me, and I imagined if I looked back, his eyes would be lowered with guilt. "It was Soren’s idea," he admitted, his deep voice dropping into a quiet rumble. "For your safety. You’re... rather unpredictable, Maisie."

"Unpredictable?!" I huffed, trying and failing to twist out of his iron grip. "You tagged me! I’m a person, Jericho, not an object. It’s intrusive! It’s disgusting and totally inhumane..." I tracked off as I pieced it together. "That’s why you even let me leave the mansion in the first place!" I accused.

I had known it was too easy. What did it matter where I was if they knew if I so much as moved to take a leak?

"I’m sorry," Jericho murmured into the hair at the nape of my neck, though he didn’t sound even remotely sorry. "We watched you die. Felt you die. We can’t let you out of our sights ever again. If you ever got taken, we need to be able to find you."

"And you think that makes it fair?!" I yelled, digging my elbow uselessly into his chest.

Jericho let out a low, dark breath, his arm tightening over my waist like a steel band. "Life isn’t fair, malyshka."

I huffed and puffed. "Where did you put it?"

Soon as he left, I was going to tear the darned thing out.

He opened his mouth, then I felt the curve of his mouth. "Nice try. Hint? It’ll be a lot harder to take out this time."

That certainly left a lot to imagination. Even thinking about it was disturbing.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?"

Silence. That was just another response for no. If Quinlan hadn’t mentioned it during our argument, I would never have known I was walking around with a damned chip inside me.

"Goddess. You’re all insane," I sulked into my pillow, letting out a tiny, dramatic huff that I hoped communicated my annoyance.

Jericho’s only response was a raspy chuckle.

His long fingers stroked my stomach and soon, a day’s worth of exhaustion hit me all at once. The rhythm of his heartbeat against my back, combined with his soothing touch made my eyelids grow heavy.

Then my eyes snapped wide open.

"The demon," I blurted into the dark, my voice quiet but sharp. "It looked like Soren’s mom."

Jericho’s stroke slowed slightly. "You said yourself that they can take whatever shape they want."

"But..." I recalled the ache in its voice, the way it had broken down. "It was asking after him. I mean, when it wasn’t being completely insane. It seemed like it was actually hurting."

Jericho’s hot breath rustled the stray hairs near my ear. "Lyanna Black died over two decades ago, Maisie. Her ashes are in the ancestral vaults at House Black, along with her mates’. It couldn’t be her."

I nodded slowly into the pillow. He was right. It couldn’t be her. But the crest carved into my floorboards kept nagging at the back of my brain. What was she trying to tell me?

Come find me. Come find me, keeper.

My lips parted.

She wanted me to find her. And she had told me where.

No. That couldn’t be right. House Hunt had been destitute since they were driven out for treason. Why the hell would she be there?

That didn’t make any sense.