Page 54 of With This Witch
“I know it’s late, but I haven’t eaten yet. Would you like something?” he asks, surprised there is still enough blood in his brain to form sentences.
“Are you feeling less like a troll now?” she prods.
Lachlan grunts back at her, making his best sarcastic troll impression.
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
Lachlan slides his eyes toward her. He knows she is trying to ease the tension between them and lighten the mood, but he’s not quite ready. He wants nothing more than to keep her safe, and while he knows he can’t be around her 24/7 to ensure that happens, he feels that she should at least be able to go to the mall with a friend without being threatened. The demon within roars, pushing to rise to the surface. He fists the pillow beside him, trying to move through the tension inside him.
She leans back in the chair, crossing her arms in frustration. “Look, I get that you’re concerned, but I will not have you stomping around like a troll ready to bash heads. I appreciate the concern, but I am more than capable of handling myself, and while it sucks to have to replace my tire, I’m not worried. I wasn’t hurt.”
“Someone stabbed your tire with adagger. That’s a threat,” Lachlan retorts. “What if you had been in the car when they did that?”
“But I wasn’t. So they stabbed my tire? So what?”
“I just worry,” he says, softening his tone and shoulders, looking down into his lap.
“I know,” she says, moving off the chair to kneel before him. She takes his hand and waits for him to look at her. “I know. And I appreciate your concern. But if I’m going to be Premier Witch, I can’t have you going off at the slightest bit of provocation.”
Lachlan grasps her hands, kissing the back of each, before taking her face in his hands and looking deeply into her eyes. He kisses her soft lips gently and carefully.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better,” he says, resting his forehead against hers.
“Thank you, that’s all I can ask,” she replies, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels the touch all the way to his toes, warming his soul and bringing him back from his edge.
Petra leans back, looking up at Lachlan. He wants to take this further but doesn’t want to risk burning the place down. Instead, he slides his hands down her curves and cups a plump ass cheek in each hand, squeezing firmly with a promise.
“Fuel first,” he whispers huskily into her ear.
She blushes at his hint of what’s to come and then nods.
He releases his hold on her, already feeling incomplete, and then returns to the kitchen to make something to eat.
His phone vibrates in his pocket as he opens the fridge door and, without looking, he pulls it out and answers.
“Lachlan.”
“Finally,” the caller replies.
Fuck!
“Lachlan? Are you there?” Selene asks.
He grunts as the tension rolls through his body as his demon rises to the surface and shadows flow out around him. “Yes,” he says, closing the fridge door.
“Good. We need to talk.”
“No,” he barks. “Get someone else to deal with it.”
“Lachlan, it needs to be you. You are our leader,” she pleads.
“No. Find. Someone. Else,” he says before hanging up.
Guilt immediately replaces the tension in his body. He rests his forehead on the door, letting the feeling sink in. Is he being unreasonable? Perhaps. He knows he needs to spend more time in the underworld, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Every time his presence is requested, he finds an excuse not to go and delegates the task to one of his staff. Thankfully he has staff who are relatively self-sufficient. Despite this, he also knows he can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep running from his life and responsibilities as their leader.
What kind of leader runs from his people?
A shitty one.
