“Is that a threat, brother?” Lucien growled.
“No. It’s a fact.” Lorcan passed him and went out the back door. He slammed the door behind him, rattling the windows.
Lucien turned his attention to his mother. “You should have told me he was coming tonight.”
“I had no idea. Lorcan usually arrives late at night and leaves early, before I get up. The only way I know he’s been here is finding his unmade bed.” She shook her head. “I don’t like that he’s an Assassin. That’s not him. It’s turning him into a monster.”
Bitterness seeped into his soul. Once again, she was making excuses for her son. He should have known better than to think she’d take his side for once.
Lucien took a long, hard look at his mother. “Mother, Lorcan was a monster long before he joined the Assassins.”
***
Catty couldn’t tear her gaze away from Lucien as he slept. It was becoming a hard habit to break.
The pain in her chest had woken her up early in the morning. She found Lucien sleeping next to her, still fully clothed. His dark lashes rested on his cheek and his lips were slightly parted. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept, mesmerized by his handsome features.
Her heart melted. He’d not left her side since they’d arrived.
She looked around the elaborate room. The crown molding and ceiling height hinted that the house had been built years ago. But the décor suggested it had been updated recently.
The light blue walls and crisp molding complemented the earthy color of the comforter and drapes. The floors were original hardwood and the furniture was large and ornate and expensive. A small sitting area near the window was complete with a chair and tufted ottoman.
“Good morning.”
His deep voice melted her heart. She turned her head in his direction. He pushed up on his elbow and edged closer to her, his eyes studying her face for any signs of pain.
“Good morning.” She smiled.
“How are you feeling?” His brows creased and his fingers found the top of the sheet and he tugged it down. He ran his fingertips across the bandage and looked up at her.
“Better. Still hurts but not anywhere as bad as last night.” Her heart pounded against his fingertips and her body heated.
“I’m going to take this off and get a better look, okay?”
She nodded, and he went to work removing the tape around the bandage. Slowly he pulled back the gauze. She looked down. The wound was beginning to close up. Soon there would be no sign of an injury.
“You don’t need this anymore.” He placed the bandage on the bedside table.
“Is this your home?” She cleared her throat and looked around. It was hard to imagine a badass biker growing up in opulence.
“It was my grandparents’ home. My father inherited it after they died. I spent the better part of my youth here.” The corners of his lips tugged upward as he brushed a strand of blonde hair off her forehead.
“Whose room is this?”
“Mine.”
“How did you know it was empty?” Her stomach warmed at the way he was staring at her.
“I didn’t. And it wasn’t.”
She pushed up on her elbows and cringed.
“Wait, let me help.” Cradling her in his arms, he helped her up in a sitting position. He grabbed a pillow and placed it under her back to support her.
“I’ll go get you something to eat.” He turned to get off the bed, but she placed her hand on his arm.
“Thank you,” she said softly. God, he was beautiful. Not just in appearance, but he had a beautiful soul. “For taking care of me.”
“I didn’t do much.” He shrugged. “My mom bandaged your wound.”
His mother. Holy shit.
Lucien’s mother was here. Her heart sped up as her eyes widened. She wasn’t ready to meet his mother.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll have to thank her then.” Maybe he would say his mother had already left, or maybe they could leave before she woke up.
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Catty froze at the sound of the feminine voice. Holding her breath, she turned her head.
A beautiful older woman with dark hair and familiar blue eyes stood in the doorway, dressed in a white silk robe. Her hair was pulled up in a messy but chic bun, and she had an air of natural elegance, like she rolled out of bed looking beautiful without trying.
“I hope you’re hungry.” She mother held up the tray. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made a little of everything.”
“You made, Mother?” Lucien arched his brow and took the tray out of her hands.
She narrowed her eyes at her son. “James made it.” She looked back at Catty. “James is the butler. But I told him what to prepare.”