Page 62 of Needed in the Night
“Very.” With my head on his chest, I listened to his hearts beat in a steady rhythm. “You’re going to spoil me, aren’t you?”
He kissed my damp hair. “Every chance I get, in every way I can think of.”
Smiling, I dozed for a while, warm and full and wrapped in a ridiculous robe I never wanted to take off.
On the one hand, I was so content and comfortable in Mikas’s arms that I could have believed we’d been lovers for months or years. But in reality, only a day ago I’d been nervously pacing around my apartment, worrying Mikas might not want to leave Onat’ras with me.
I think he will, Brae had said in response to my concern. At the time I’d wondered why he sounded so wry. Only now did I start to wonder if my shadowbat had some kind of inside knowledge.
“Mikas?” I murmured.
“Yes?” he rumbled.
“Did Brae know about you?”
“Yes.” He squeezed me gently. “But I only found out yesterday that he has known for some time.”
I found myself caught between surprise, disbelief, and a little bit of hurt that Brae hadn’t said a word about how Mikas felt.
“What happened yesterday?” I asked.
“He came to my apartment just before my shift and urged me to get you away from Nubo and Onat’ras.” He laced his fingers through mine. “He said ‘If she is your mate, you need to do what is right for her.’ That is the first time I had ever spoken to him, and the first I knew that he was aware of the situation.”
Confused, I asked, “If he knew all along, or even knew for a while, why didn’t he say something to me?”
“Perhaps he did not think it was his secret to tell.” He stroked my back. Even through the plush robe, the heat of his hand soothed me. “And who but you and I could know the right time for the truth to come out? He loves you very much. I am sure he wants only the best for you. Perhaps he thought you were not ready to hear it until now.”
“He might have been right.” I sighed. “I don’t hold it against him. I had a lot of healing to do after I came to Fortusia. I’m still healing. Maybe it wasn’t the right time until it was.”
“As difficult as it has been, I think you are right.” Mikas squeezed my hand. “I would like it very much if we could heal together.”
That was a lovely thought…but the sudden heaviness in his voice compelled me to tug our entwined hands into my lap so I could cradle his much-larger hand between both of mine.
“Tell me how you came back to Fortusia,” I said. “And about Slug.”
He frowned. “Who is Slug?”
My cheeks heated in embarrassment. “Oh, that’s the nickname I gave the Atolani female who thought you of all people would want to be a raider. You didn’t tell me her name, so I decided she was a Slug.”
He laughed.
Oh, gods, his laugh. It rolled through our suite, rumbly and deep and wonderful. It made me warm inside, but very unexpectedly, my eyes filled with tears.
“My Isla.” He lifted me up so he could kiss me, and then he rested his forehead on mine. “Why do you cry?”
“Because this is the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh,” I said, my throat tight.
He cupped my cheek. “My hearts have been heavy for a very long time—since long before you and I met. The moment you came into Zaa’ga they began to heal, but I ached for you. And I was full of rage at Nubo for keeping us apart and afraid he might harm you. I did not have the hearts to laugh until now.”
My poor Mikas. I kissed him gently. “Tell me about Slug.”
“Her name is Kona Landus.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “We served together in the Cludian Corps. I had not seen her for two years when she came into Zaa’ga this past week.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “We were lovers for a time. Ican only say that we were soldiers at war and it was a miserable life. In my suffering, I sought some kind of comfort and meaning.”
“You don’t owe me any justifications or apologies.” I held his gaze so he could see I meant it. “I’m not bothered that you shared a bed with Kona. Of course you would want something good in the midst of chaos and misery. Goodness knows I needed the same.”
“It was never good.” Mikas took my hand and pressed my palm to his jaw. “I do not think I found any comfort or meaning either. At best, it was pleasure.”
“Was it more than that for Kona?” I asked.
