“Mordecai, dinner’s ready.” Daisy gestured him on. Apparently, she felt she’d given him enough touchy-feely support.

“You wanted me to cook dinner, and so I cooked dinner. You didn’t seem to care that I don’t know how to cook, so…” Bria raised her eyebrows at them. “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.”

Jack and Donovan’s mouths dropped open. A small smile crept up Zorn’s face.

“What happened?” Boman asked, his smile failing.

“How hard is it to cook hotdogs?” Jack asked with a raised voice. “They’re already cooked. You’re basically just heating them up. How hard is it to heat up food?”

The door closed softly and I zeroed in on the soft pulse in my middle letting me know Kieran was near. I looked up and my breath caught. All noise in the room dialed down to nothing.

He filled the entrance of the kitchen in a wet shirt that clung to his perfectly sculpted, powerful body. Ripped jeans hugged his muscular thighs, ending in sandy flip-flops. His raven hair fell across his forehead and his stormy blue gaze rooted to me with an intensity that gave me goosebumps.

“Alexis, may I speak with you?” he said, his voice thick and raspy, and fear crawled through me at his formality.

27

Alexis

“What, and miss the dinner I toiled to make?” Bria flipped another bun off the grill.

“You’re not missing anything, sir,” Jack grumbled, watching Bria’s handiwork with wide, horrified eyes. He seemed powerless to stop the train wreck.

“Sure, yeah.” I pushed up from the table as he glided through the kitchen, smelling of salt. His mouth-watering male magnetism tightened my core. His power and strength and intensity filled the space, sending out silent waves of explosive energy. The guys all turned, giving him their undivided attention. Daisy’s face lost color again, and Mordecai looked down at his feet. Even Bria had turned, all serious, ready for a command to action.

The Demigod was in the room, more powerful than any pack leader could be, and he was owning his mantle. It didn’t matter that everyone in the room was powerful in their own way and, besides Daisy, magical—he dominated their awareness and owned their focus.

I took his hand and melted at his touch, my legs going wobbly.

Without another word, he led me back the way he’d come and then up the stairs to my new bedroom. Once we were both inside, he shut the door behind us and motioned for me to take a seat on the couch by the window. The sound of crashing waves grew louder when he lifted the window. A wave of his hand, and his magic brought a gentle ocean breeze in, mussing my hair.

With serious eyes, he sat down next to me and silence fell over us. I couldn’t read the surge of emotion coming through the soul connection. His stony face gave absolutely nothing away.

“I don’t know how to begin,” he said after a moment, his voice deep and thick.

“From the beginning?” I tried.

He looked at me for a long moment, and I thought I recognized uncertainty in his gaze.

“My father marked my mother,” he started, and my heart skipped a beat.

He knew about the mark, and he clearly wasn’t doing cartwheels about it.

“He has said, many times, that it was the worst decision he ever made.”

Maybe the beginning wasn’t the best place to start after all. I couldn’t comment on that, though. My heart was now firmly lodged in my throat, choking me.

“That when the woman wearing his mark walked away from him,” Kieran continued, “it invited ridicule. He never said it, but it was clear that he thought the situation with my mother made him look weak.”

“I don’t plan on walking away from you,” I whispered.

His eyes softened for a brief moment. Much too brief.

“What my mother did crushed his ego, and cracked his brain a little, I think, though it can be argued that he was always a little imbalanced.”

It certainly could be argued, yes, and those with nerves of steel usually did.

“I was never taught how to mark a person,” Kieran went on. “Or even what sort of magic goes into it. It is usually something a Demigod parent teaches their child. Kind of like a safe sex talk for those who can accrue diseases.”

A chill spread across my skin because I knew what was coming.

“I didn’t mean to mark you,” he said. “I had no idea I was doing it.”

My lungs burned from holding my breath, terrified he’d say he regretted it.

“A mark is forever,” he continued, his face showing no emotion. “Few Demigods still engage in the practice, and fewer still for love—my father can attest as to why.” He shook his head slowly. “I am sorry, Alexis, please believe that. But I cannot remove it. I cannot alter it.”

His voice held frustration, apology, and most of all, regret.

Swallowing was laborious. A tear escaped and dribbled down my cheek. I opened my mouth to claim nonchalance, but my lower lip trembled so much that I had no choice but to close it again. I managed a shrug before another tear followed the first.

I wiped them away, intense agony eating through me. I had no idea why this hurt so much. Why I was reacting this way. Of course he wasn’t happy he’d accidentally made his claim permanent. It was purely logical for him to be freaked out about this. I should be freaked out.

But for the life of me, it felt like he’d just ripped a gaping hole in my middle, stuck dynamite in it, and lit the fuse. Something in me had thought—hoped—that even if he hadn’t marked me on purpose, he’d be okay with the idea of the long haul. I had been cool with it, enough so that I’d created what I still thought was a permanent connection between our souls.

I’d been a fool. And now I was branded for all to see.

“Now what?” My voice was barely a whisper, and I summoned all my strength to harden it. “Can we hide it?”

His demeanor changed, suddenly vicious and aggressive, even though he’d barely moved a muscle. “Do you want to hide it?”

“Well…” I wiped away another tear, confused. “Why would I want anyone to see a mark you didn’t want to put on me?”

Silence ballooned around us.

“Damn it.” He leaned back and blew out a breath before wiping his hand down his face. “Do you see what I mean?” He put his palms on his chest and I wiped away another tear. I most certainly did not see what he meant. I had no clue.

In a flurry of movement, he was up and pacing the floor. Panic gripped me that he might leave. That he might walk away, leaving me with this rejection and his unintentional brand. But when he reached the end of the space, he turned around and paced back.

“I’m handling this all wrong,” he said, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I can’t think straight. I’m trying to apologize for what I did—but everything in me wants to do it again. Wants to haul you over to that bed, claim you anew, and run my magic across every inch of your beautiful, intoxicating body.”

I could only blink up at him, the mixed messages making my head spin.

He stopped in front of me, his expression frustrated. “Truth?”

“Yes, please.”

He paced away. “There was a time when the mark was used to represent ownership. Prized harem members were marked. A favored king under a Demigod’s control was marked.” He turned and paced back. “The anti-slavery laws put an end to the practice of owning through a mark. That’s when the marks became about love…about sharing power. A king in the magical world might mark his queen.” He stopped and nailed me with a look. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how infrequently Demigods choose to share their power.” He started again. “Still, the practice occasionally works out. The Demigod of London and his wife rule together, for example. But what happened with my father and mother isn’t an aberration.”

Kieran sat onto the couch and bent over to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Marking someone is a huge decision. It’s not like marriage, because it can’t be undone.” He turned his head to look at me. “We barely know each other.”

I nodded, because he was exactly right. Regardless, my chest throbbed, another stick of dynamite exploding each time he said something like this.

He leaned back warily, his expression one of exhaustion. “I didn’t give you a chance to say feck off. I did this without your permission. I locked you into forever…without even asking.”

I nodded again, because that was true. Of course, I’d done the same thing by tying our souls together permanently.

“Everything points to my having made an irreversible error—one you should never forgive me for.” He sagged. “But when you asked if there was a way to hide it… I lost myself for a moment. The thought tore at something deep in here.” He pounded a fist to his sternum, the same place my dynamite kept going off. “I don’t know that I could stop myself from marking you again. Even now, after I laid out what a terrible idea it was”—he shrugged helplessly—“I want to do it all over again. I want to sizzle my magic across your skin, and warn anyone else away from touching you. I want to share everything I have, and am, with you. I want you by my side in whatever comes next.” He threw up his hands before letting them fall again. “I don’t know where that leaves us, other than I’m sorry I didn’t ask you, and I hope you can forgive me.”

I stared at him, uncertain. “So…you wouldn’t want to wipe away the mark if you could?”

His look was completely open. Raw. “No. Despite all the reasons I should, I don’t. But depending on how pissed you are, I’ll happily pretend.”

A tear broke loose and tracked down my face. I didn’t want to let relief take hold of me before I could knock on something wooden.

He reached up and wiped my tear away. “I love you, Alexis. Each new thing I learn about you makes me want you more. This love may be new, but the roots have thoroughly taken hold. I have every reason to believe it’ll keep growing until it drives words from the poets and makes even Ed Sheeran’s love ballads pale in comparison.”