Page 65 of The Missing Sentinel
“Shhh, love,” Ducarius said, cupping Drexley’s head. “As you may have guessed, the necromancer was Adney Blackwell. He died in his sleep a couple of hours ago.”
Chander closed his eyes. “And his realm disappeared. I’m so sorry.”
Drexley set down the plate, which Ducarius was pleased to see was already empty, and scooted so he could lean his head on Ducarius’s chest. “Thank you, I hope he is watching me now from the other side of the veil. He would be so proud to know I was here with you, Arch Lich. He often encouraged me to read books about your rise to power.”
“Please call me Chander or Chand. You flatter me. We’ve checked in at Blackwell House as part of our search for you, and Adney’s housekeeper still calls it home.”
“Everything is well maintained,” Alaric added. “She has allowed Adney’s legacy to flourish.”
“The rest of our questions can wait,” Chander decreed, and no one argued. “Is there anything we can do for either of you?”
“More cookies, maybe?” Samson asked. “B has filled this place with all kinds of yummy stuff. I could get you a cupcake or maybe a lemon bar.”
“Drexley does not know what those things are,” Ducarius replied.
“Then he definitely needs to try them,” Samson exclaimed as he hustled toward the kitchen.
“Drexley, I am sorry for your loss. We are here for you if you need us. It is so wonderful to know you are well; we were concerned for you,” Alaric stated.
“Did you lose your daggers as the realm fell apart?” Baxter asked.
Ducarius shook his head. “Not every sentinel needs to carry weapons.”
Baxter’s mouth fell open. So did Benton’s. Cassius blinked but offered no comment. Eduard scowled. Albrecht crossed his arms. And the Lich Sentinel stayed stone still. They could hear the truth in Ducarius’s voice, but none of them wanted to believe it. Ducarius understood their incredulity, but he supported Drexley.
Even if that meant his mate remained the lone sentinel never armed.
Chapter 28
Drexley was not around the Darays for long. After consuming the most delicious things Drexley ever remembered having the pleasure to eat, Ducarius insisted they escape to the sanctity of his private room. As Ducarius had described, it was gray everywhere. That did not bother Drexley. It reminded him of Ducarius’s uniform, and everything about his mate soothed him.
“I have no dressing gowns, but Larissa D’Vairedraconis famously provides our entire extended family with mountains of colorful pajamas,” Ducarius explained as he handed Drexley some folded fabric in shocking shades of green and yellow. “You can sleep in these if you wish.”
Stifling a yawn, Drexley set the pajamas on the smooth surface of a long table with a flat panel on it he had learned was a television. He was tired. But that was far from Drexley’s biggest concern. In a few tumultuous minutes, his life had changed. And he had foolishly pretended that if ignored Adney’s coming death, it would push it off.
Drexley had been hopelessly wrong.
But Adney had taught him to be strong and take things in stride. So, Drexley would stitch together the broken pieces of his heart to honor the necromancer’s memory. It would not be easy. Nor would it happen in the next few hours.
So, Drexley focused on what mattered most now. And that was indisputably Ducarius. Their completed matebond was incredibly new, but it was already reassuring to feel Ducarius’s emotions alongside his own. Ducarius’s love flowed into him like a constant steadying wave. It was beautiful.
Despite the devastation and pain of the past few hours, Drexley knew sleep would not come easily. He was not ready to rest. He wanted to ignite a spark within himself. To touch his other half and have passion consume them both. He yearned to experience a taste of Ducarius’s desire. The thought had no more than crystalized in his mind before it became an irresistible urge he refused to ignore.
Drexley wanted to please Ducarius and be reminded of how lucky a man Fate had made him. He wanted to feel alive. Whipping off his borrowed shirt, Drexley allowed it to fall to the floor. He stepped into Ducarius’s personal space and threaded his fingers into the other sentinel’s tangled hair.
Two questing hands cupped his arse and squeezed. But mixed alongside the rush of lust, Ducarius’s concern bled into Drexley.
“You need sleep, love,” Ducarius insisted. Contradicting his words, he bit gently on Drexley’s jaw.
“We will rest later,” Drexley promised. His shaft was hardening in the strangely comfortable underwear he had on beneath the coarse fabric Ducarius had labeled jeans.
Thankfully, Ducarius did not argue. He slipped his tongue into Drexley’s mouth and kissed him deep and hungrily. Clinging to Ducarius, Drexley relished the heavy thrum of his heartbeat and wiggled against Ducarius until their pricks bumped through the fabric of their clothes.
Ducarius pulled away abruptly. But Drexley smiled. The Skeleton Lord was not putting a stop to their lovemaking. The only thing Ducarius was feeling was a feverish thirst for him.Drexley watched with rapt attention as Ducarius bared his lovely chest and belly.
Moving in a blur, Ducarius planted himself in a nearby chair and tugged at the laces of his boots.
“Drexley, at least take off your shoes and socks,” Ducarius ordered.
