If this was what his life was like when he wasn't with her, she would never again feel amus.e.m.e.nt with his need for such tranquility. Only tenderness, and grat.i.tude that the G.o.ds had brought him home to her once again.

She definitely wanted to be gone from this place, gone from Berlin, and back home. But there was more to her pensiveness than that. She'd heard some of the things Gideon had said to Daegan, and those words had twisted a knife in her heart. He was right and wrong at once. Right, in that he'd convinced her tonight he didn't belong, would likely never belong. Wrong, in that he thought she'd come to the realization because he'd screwed up. She wanted to push away the painful knowledge lodged in her breast like Gideon's arrow, avoid the pain of pulling it out, exposing it to scrutiny. But truth was truth, however it happened.

She would have used her vampire strength and will to force him or the girls to do whatever was necessary to restore Daegan's strength. She would do the same for Gideon if he was injured. Through her transition, she'd been "becoming" a vampire. Tonight she truly was one, and she could no more change that than Gideon could change what he was. Even now, Gideon's eyes were closed so he couldn't see what she was doing, unable to handle seeing himself as a servant. But his mind was an open book to her, and what she saw on the pages of his soul broke her heart.

Everything she and Brian had discussed, everything she'd known since the beginning about Gideon, that she'd learned about vampires through Daegan and now herself, had come to the surface in this most brutal of moments. Gideon was right about that part, too. But it still wasn't his fault. She couldn't bear for him to blame himself, and hoped that when she had the courage to cut him loose, she could do it without making him feel it was. She'd rather have him hate her than hate himself, more than he already did.

Bending to her task, her hair curtaining her face from Daegan, she let Gideon drink. She held on to the miracle that they were all alive and let that be enough, for now. It was as she'd always known, always believed and tried to practice as her one enduring faith.

It was always best to live in the moment.

19.

LORD Stephen had disappeared, confirming his guilt and cowardice. Lady Barbra was nearly meek in the subsequent review of events. It was a wise choice, considering her head could be on the same chopping block. The Council shake-up, the renewed debate of whether made vampires serving on the august body was a dreadful mistake, rendered the question of Gideon Green serving as a fledgling's servant, or Anwyn's state of mind, much less high-priority issues.

Gideon was intrigued to hear through Daegan that the Council thought they could pressure Lord Mason, the second-oldest vampire after Lady Lyssa, to take Stephen's slot. Lyssa, having a long history with the antisocial Mason, would find that pretty amusing.

In short, when Daegan firmly indicated they would be departing for home, the Council simply waved them off. Uthe, with dry humor, indicated they would trust him to monitor his domestic situation and advise the Council if there were any problems. Though Gideon still felt Daegan had taken an excessive gamble, it had paid off. The exposure of Lord Stephen, and Daegan's dispatch of Xavier's potential threat in the Council's very backyard, had restored their full confidence in their personal a.s.sa.s.sin. For now. He had no illusions about the consistency of vampire loyalties.

Any short-term conflict they faced going forward wouldn't likely come from the Council, though. The most immediate problem appeared to be that still-unthawed wall of ice Anwyn had erected around her, threatening to freeze him to death every time Gideon came near her.

He studied her now as the Gulfstream leveled from takeoff. She'd chosen a seat diagonally from him, which prevented any casual contact. She'd touched him very little during the past twenty-four hours, except for disgustingly neutral Mother Teresa-type touches of his brow or pulse, making sure he was recovering well. It wasn't like she was angry. She was just . . . withdrawn. Deep inside herself, chewing on something he knew didn't bode well.

"I don't know whether it's rea.s.suring or scary to find out that vampire governing councils can be just as f.u.c.ked-up as human ones," he observed, making another foray.

"I think Daegan handled the situation capably. It left no doubt in their minds that you and I are in good hands," Anwyn responded, her gaze not leaving her laptop screen.

Yep, still in full pa.s.sive-aggressive mode, which made it impossible to penetrate or aggravate her. So far she'd stayed impervious to any attempt to draw her out, though he'd withheld some of his more obnoxious tactics. None of them wanted more issues to address until they were safely on home turf. She'd made it to the car that night before she had a full-blown seizure, one that had pretty much rendered her insensible for half a day and destroyed the interior of Brian's Mercedes, which Daegan promised to have restored. Thank G.o.d for the Council's distraction and Brian's discretion.

From Daegan's speculative glances, Gideon suspected the reticent b.a.s.t.a.r.d understood what was going on with her, but he wasn't talking, either. Gideon hadn't yet sunk so low he'd go begging for answers.

He suppressed a sigh as she kept on working, obviously intending to pa.s.s the trip home immersed in her backlog of paperwork from the club. Membership applications to review, invoices to process and approve, proposals for a renovation she'd been planning for some time. That VIP weekend thing. Anything to keep from talking to him.

d.a.m.n it, he missed her. It was stupid, because it had been only a matter of freaking hours, but ever since he'd gotten that third mark, bonded with her over that and so many other things, he'd gotten used to the feeling of closeness . . . emotional, physical and all points in between. Easy touches and warmth, even barbed comments or her Mistress coolness. He couldn't help comparing this moment to the trip to Berlin. She'd sat next to him for part of that flight, doing the same thing she was doing now, but telling him about it, sharing things about her business as if she wanted him to be a part of it. Leaning against him so her shoulder brushed his, giving him absent smiles, both of them responding to Daegan's comments as he read the paper.

As he shifted, he stifled a quiet curse, finding himself stiff and tired again. He'd walked out of the club standing in his own boots, as Daegan had predicted, thanks to Anwyn's blood, but his body was going through lethargic cycles. Lord Brian, after a quick examination, had noted he'd be fine, but should rest whenever his body demanded it. While he was impatient with it, it wasn't the first time he'd had to make himself do what needed to be done to recover as quickly as possible from an injury. All in all, it was pretty nifty. Take an arrow through the heart, drink some blood, rest a few days, and he'd be good as new. The metal tip on the thing was the only part that made the injury serious enough to prevent a faster recovery.

If the arrow had stopped in your heart, instead of puncturing out the back, it would have killed you within seconds, Lord Brian had offered cheerfully. Of course, he'd seemed pretty cheerful about everything since Debra had returned. When Gideon had visited him for the quick checkup before leaving for the airstrip, he'd come into the lab to find Debra pouring something into a beaker, Brian right behind her. He had his hands planted on either side of the counter, lips on her neck, hips firmly pressed up against her pretty heart-shaped a.s.s as she smiled and tried her best to concentrate on what she was doing. Lord Brian had offered cheerfully. Of course, he'd seemed pretty cheerful about everything since Debra had returned. When Gideon had visited him for the quick checkup before leaving for the airstrip, he'd come into the lab to find Debra pouring something into a beaker, Brian right behind her. He had his hands planted on either side of the counter, lips on her neck, hips firmly pressed up against her pretty heart-shaped a.s.s as she smiled and tried her best to concentrate on what she was doing.

Yeah, he knew what that was like. s.h.i.t. There seemed to be no cure for the heavy weight that Anywn's self-imposed distance seemed to be placing on his heart. His limited experience with women told him that there was little he could do except be as ingratiating as possible until she decided to let it go or vent. He didn't ingratiate himself very well, but he'd give a lot right now to put his head on her thigh, feel the absent brush of her fingers in between typing e-mails. Hear her voice as she fussed about someone's incompetence, or shared a funny story that Madelyn had e-mailed her about a client. G.o.d, he was pathetic.

Gideon pushed his seat back into a reclining position, turned his face toward the window again and tried not to think about it anymore. He couldn't be anything more or less than what he was. If she had a problem with that, she'd have to deal. Though he wished to h.e.l.l he knew what to do to make it better.

Anwyn looked up from her computer when Gideon's even breath, the relative stillness of his agitated mind, told her he had succ.u.mbed to sleep. He'd done that frequently in the past day, making her realize how rarely the man actually slept. When they'd first returned from the Coffin, he'd refused to give in to it, to go to their rooms. Not until he was certain Daegan would emerge, safe and sound, from the Council chambers. She'd learned that from Brian, who'd watched over her until she regained consciousness. Vincent had reported that the vampire hunter had dozed against a column outside the great hall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, face pressed against the stone, jacket still stained with his own near-mortal blood. It had apparently made an impression on Belizar's majordomo. Of course, Gideon had that effect on people.

Setting her computer aside, she shifted over to the seat next to him. She studied his handsome features, the lines around his eyes, the rugged toughness overlaying the fresh handsomeness of the far more carefree young man he'd once been. Swallowing, she feathered her knuckles over his brow, down along his cheek, a hard burning in her chest. She'd almost lost him. She'd heard what Brian said as well. Gideon would have died in that horrible place. She thanked whatever G.o.d's genius insight had made vampire and servant mortality affected by different weapons, so the same could not be used against both.

Still, when the arrow had taken him in the chest, she'd doubled over in the car. Debra had twisted around as Anwyn cried out, grabbed the back of the seat for support, her hand pressed to her chest. From Debra's expression, Anwyn had experienced a moment of total terror, thinking this was what the girl meant about knowing when one's servant had died.

Daegan, however, had quickly caught her spinning mind in his sure grip, sending her what was happening, even as he was shielding Gideon from further attack.

She didn't know Gideon's favorite color, or if he preferred his eggs scrambled or boiled. Brian might say it was all biology, the blood connection, that made it feel as if a vital part of her heart resided within his powerful frame. But it didn't explain why he'd attracted her long before he'd become her servant, or why, when he'd spent his life moving toward solitude and sure death, that he'd finally joined his life to hers.

Maybe it had been desperation, his soul reaching for something his mind and heart were too far gone to accept. Too little, too late. The truth was she couldn't keep him. He'd always known it. Now she knew it, too, and she wouldn't risk his life, or her heart, any further.

Bowing her head, she let the pain of it wash over her, and slid back into her chair. Glancing up, she saw Daegan watching her. While there was pain in his expression, telling her he heard her thoughts, she shook her head. She couldn't handle any advice that would be a balm on the obvious. At the moment it hurt too d.a.m.n much. All of it hurt too much, and it was all the wrong kind of pain.

"It's time for you to choose, Gideon."

Gideon jumped as he came out of the bathing chamber. She'd startled him.

Anwyn bit her lip at his reaction, another tiny pain amid many larger ones. Even though she'd gone up earlier with Daegan to do a nighttime round of Atlantis while Gideon showered, Gideon usually stayed locked into her whereabouts, a comforting presence in the back of her brain. However, given that she'd been shutting him out the three days since they'd been back, she couldn't fault him for withdrawing some. h.e.l.l, he'd probably been relieved not to have to walk on eggsh.e.l.ls around her for at least a half hour.

He'd tolerated her treatment longer than she would have expected. Gideon Green wasn't a doormat, and his patience was zero. Maybe he'd sensed what was coming and wanted to delay it, as she did. Or maybe it was because he would let her abuse him in a way she'd never permit anyone else to do, a shameful thought.

He hadn't completely avoided it, though, like she had. On the first day back, he'd approached her with heartbreaking tenderness, asking her point-blank what he could do to fix whatever it was he'd done. But she, who had stood up to the Council, who'd faced down Xavier in his club, surrounded by hostile vampires, couldn't tell him. At least she hadn't lied. She'd said it was something she was working out and she'd tell him in her own time. Told him to focus on recuperating and stop worrying about her.

At night, she stayed busy in her home office, leaving them to watch television or do whatever men did. Practice weapons or martial arts. Daegan even started teaching Gideon how to use a bullwhip, something she'd been almost tempted to go watch, and give tips, but had stopped herself.

That first dawn, and each of the two dawns after, she'd gone to Daegan's bed and hadn't invited Gideon to join them, as she might have before. She'd shut her mind like a trap, unable to handle his confused and hurt reaction. She couldn't even look at his face as she vaguely encouraged him to use her bed rather than the couch for his comfort and recuperation. Day or night, she'd said carelessly, whichever suited his sleeping schedule best.

He slept on the couch, refusing her bed. He couldn't handle her scent there, without her in it. When she saw the thought in his mind, she almost broke, so she tried not to listen to anything else, pouring more energy into that screen between them than she ever had before. She knew she'd successfully been able to keep him out of the part of her mind dealing with this issue. He'd probed hard a couple times, and she'd set him back on his heels for it, so he'd quit, with a mutinous look, but he didn't know what the worried look in his eyes did to her heart. She felt like a mult.i.tude of cracks were starting to run through it, the prelude to a full shattering into dozens of pieces.

It had made her even crueler. When she'd needed blood, she'd asked him-or rather the wall in front of her-to drain it into a cup and mix it with wine for her. She knew how he antic.i.p.ated the intimacy they shared when she took her preferred position in his lap and brought her lips to his throat. She'd denied him even that. The first time she'd done it, he'd left it on the kitchen counter, reaching out into her mind to let her know it was ready, and then left the apartment for several hours.

She couldn't risk any of it. Couldn't risk his thoughts, sharing a bed or drinking from him. It wasn't deliberate cruelty; it was resolve. If she twined herself around him, touched him, allowed herself his body, she'd rationalize herself away from the truth. Pleasure was a poor subst.i.tute for what she really wanted-his heart and soul.

On day three, hurt had begun to shift to his familiar bitter anger, his mind twisting in ugly thoughts. As she prepared to leave him for the dawn, headed for Daegan's bed, Gideon had demanded she tell him what the f.u.c.k was going on. She'd felt numb, because she knew it was time. She told him she wanted one more day.

Daegan wouldn't help or hinder, d.a.m.n him. She hadn't asked his opinion, but she would have welcomed it. However, when she came to his bed that morning, she'd seen in his eyes he knew too well what was happening, and that he knew this was her decision to make. Instead, he let her spoon inside the shelter of his body, curl in a ball. He'd folded himself around her, giving her shelter but no sanctuary from her own thoughts.

When she rose for the evening, she found Gideon had fallen asleep on the couch. She'd wanted to slide onto that lean body, twine around him, hold him close to her heart, but she couldn't bear it. She'd gone up top upon rising, with Daegan, to do rounds. She'd worked upstairs, cognizant of Daegan's presence, his watchfulness, and then she'd asked him for privacy when she went back down to face what she had to do.

So here she was. She'd come back in, heard Gideon in the shower, taken a seat in her wing-backed chair. Allowed herself to slide into his mind fully for the first time in three days and almost sobbed at the pleasure of it. Experiencing the roll of water down his body, watching his hands rise to slick the hair back from his skull. Feeling the loneliness in his mind warring with irritation and anger at her treatment of him, the confusion and apprehension.

He always sensed her in his mind, so it spoke keenly of his state that she'd startled him when he stepped out of the bathroom.

She knew what he saw. A Mistress in full regalia, no softness to her. A corset and snug skirt, high boots, hair slicked back. She'd greeted some high-dollar clients tonight, introduced them to the staff members who would pleasure them, but that wasn't why she'd dressed this way. Gideon reacted to her remote and tempting appearance, his barely leashed irritation rising again, a cloak for more jagged emotions.

He knew, as she did. Except he thought there was something to fight about, but there wasn't. She wished there was. There was nothing to change or fix.

"What do you mean, I need to choose?" He spoke stiffly.

When she let her gaze course down Gideon's bare chest, the arrow of hair that disappeared into the towel, she heard his hopeful, hungry thought that maybe she was ready to make up, ready to take him into her body, use his as she wished. It made him despise himself, made him feel like he had no pride.

It made her despise herself, because of how desperately she wanted to accept less than what they both deserved, so she wouldn't have to face this moment.

"s.e.x is the great anesthesia, isn't it?" She c.o.c.ked her head. "For men at least."

His brow furrowed. She felt him reach out to her on instinct, but she kept that wall steady between them. She was becoming better at making her screen opaque, possibly a c.u.mulative effect of Brian's serum. She wanted to celebrate how much control she was reclaiming for herself, but not only was Gideon a cornerstone of that control; she actually missed the intimacy of giving him easy access, letting him share her thoughts, something she'd never thought she'd appreciate with anyone.

"Anwyn, what's happening?" His voice stayed wooden, though, his expression already closing against her.

"I'm letting you go, if that's what you want," she said. "I don't care about the Vampire Council, what they say about not releasing a servant. As far as they're concerned, I'll just say you travel for me a great deal."

He reached for the jeans he'd left over a chair, yanked them on and tossed away the towel with a jerky movement. It gave her only a second to enjoy bare flesh, though she was hypercognizant that he put no briefs on. Only thin denim separated her from him. Thin denim and a chasm only he could cross. And wouldn't.

"I guess I knew this was coming." He shrugged. "Whatever."

Anwyn rose, her eyes on his face, though he wouldn't meet her gaze. Didn't he know she could read everything in his mind, feel his pain and betrayal rising to the forefront to tear him apart, even as he used it as his only defense?

"You're not listening, Gideon. You have two choices, and neither one is wrong. I'm not angry with you, I promise. This was never your decision, becoming a servant." She pushed aside her own anguish. "While becoming a vampire wasn't mine, it's one I can live with."

"I've been here. I've been f.u.c.king doing what a servant is supposed to do. I haven't asked you to be different-"

"Do you know what I notice about you?" she interrupted quietly, stepping forward. He pulled on his shirt, raked his hands in his hair, and rocked away from her, avoiding her outstretched hand. Anwyn dropped it, firming her lips. "You won't refer to yourself directly as my servant, except when necessary for the perception of others. You close your eyes when you feed, when I feed, because you can't handle seeing yourself feeding or being fed by a vampire. At the Coffin, you couldn't accept the part of me that would have forced those girls to feed Daegan. You considered it a great and n.o.ble sacrifice to offer Daegan your blood, because it was still something you were deeply reluctant to do. When he refused, it angered and hurt you, but there was relief as well."

"Doesn't sound like there's a choice anywhere in there," he said gruffly.

"If you wish to stay with me, you accept three things. You accept me as a vampire, not as a victim of one. You accept yourself as a servant, with me as your vampire Mistress. If I see in your mind that you can accept that right now, then you can stay."

"Fine, I accept it. That's only two things."

She arched a brow at the obvious lie. "You accept Daegan. Feed him tonight, and let him take you to his bed, without me."

He stepped backward involuntarily, though he tried to catch himself. "See?" She nodded with a sad smile. "Your mind rejects all those requirements, Gideon, perversely because your heart and soul don't don't. It's exactly what they want, but your mind is the guard at the prison gates. You won't free yourself until you're ready." Her emotions spiraled upward, like there was a geyser in her heart, needing to release pressure, but she fought it back down, kept her voice steady. "Remember that first session between us, when I walked out because you wouldn't give me your real name? This is that, all over again. I need you to admit what you really want, surrender that to me."

"That isn't a choice. And this is bulls.h.i.t. You're just ready to be done with me and choosing a chickens.h.i.t way to do it. h.e.l.l, Anwyn, it hasn't been that long. I can't just change overnight-"

"No, you can't. But I can't change at all. You were right, what you saw in my mind in the Coffin. I am a vampire, Gideon, and that will continue to grow stronger inside me. I hope it won't change certain things about me, but it has changed other things, and will continue to do so. Gideon, I need a true, dedicated servant." I need you. I need you. Though she held that yearning thought back. "A servant is my link to my humanity, to the values and beliefs that have guided me throughout my life. I'm going to need those. I need to hold on to some of what I am, figure out what parts are really, truly me. I need a servant to help me do that, but one who will, at the same time, accept whatever I'm becoming fully." Though she held that yearning thought back. "A servant is my link to my humanity, to the values and beliefs that have guided me throughout my life. I'm going to need those. I need to hold on to some of what I am, figure out what parts are really, truly me. I need a servant to help me do that, but one who will, at the same time, accept whatever I'm becoming fully."

She took a step forward, holding him in her gaze, suffering, wanting to hold his rigid, angry body in her arms, soothe all those tense muscles. "When a person gives another time to change, Gideon, it's because they can't can't see into their head. They're just nursing hope that something about that person will alter. I can read your mind, your thoughts. Hating and killing vampires, seeing their excesses and violence, is something trapped so deeply inside of you." see into their head. They're just nursing hope that something about that person will alter. I can read your mind, your thoughts. Hating and killing vampires, seeing their excesses and violence, is something trapped so deeply inside of you."

"And what about those gremlins in your head? You know I'm the only one-"

"I'll manage. I have serums to help, and Daegan will help. I don't need you for that."

His features tightened as if she'd struck him. Anwyn swallowed the pain with the lie, tried to steady her voice again. "I could give you more time, both of us more time, but my heart won't take it. I already care so much for you. It may be selfish and cruel of me, but as you said, that's what vampires are. I don't want to wait. I want it all, and I want it now, or I want you gone. If you come back, you come back to me forever, with full commitment to those three things, no matter what. I know this hurts." Her voice quavered, despite her best efforts, and his gaze snapped to hers. She was going to die inside in another few moments. She managed the rest in a whisper. "But doing this now will be less cruel, to both of us."

"Fine. If you want me out, I'm out. Go back upstairs with Daegan. When you come back down, I'll be gone." He stepped forward, but she shifted, moving in front of him.

"I'm not done. I need to say something else to you, something I think you need to hear."

"I don't need your psychoa.n.a.lysis," he snapped. "Just get the h.e.l.l out of the way."

"No," she said, her tone becoming even softer. "When I'm done, I'll move, but you'll hear me out. I know you, Gideon. You won't strike out at me."

He planted his feet, his face hard as granite. "Fine. Say it so I can get the f.u.c.k out of here."

It almost stole her breath, the vicious anger in his voice, the fact that for a moment, he had had wanted to hit her, strike her down, knowing she'd get back up without a mark on her, because a vampire couldn't be wounded, not by a lowly human. The shadow creatures in her head stirred restlessly, antic.i.p.ating. Soon he would be gone, and the battle to fight them would be hers and Daegan's alone. They could do it. They would have to, because she couldn't bear this. wanted to hit her, strike her down, knowing she'd get back up without a mark on her, because a vampire couldn't be wounded, not by a lowly human. The shadow creatures in her head stirred restlessly, antic.i.p.ating. Soon he would be gone, and the battle to fight them would be hers and Daegan's alone. They could do it. They would have to, because she couldn't bear this.

She made herself pull out the harder edge of the Mistress she knew she could be. He needed it now, but more than that, it was the only way she was going to get through this without breaking down.

"It isn't that vampires repulse you, or that you can't let go of what happened to Laura. The largest part of it isn't about that anymore. It's because you want want to be my servant. You want to belong to me, and more than that, you want to belong to us. Both of us. It scares the s.h.i.t out of you. The only way you can handle that is to keep acting like a foster kid forced to be part of a family he knows he really can't do without. So he p.i.s.ses and moans about how he hates them, even as he hopes they'll always be there." to be my servant. You want to belong to me, and more than that, you want to belong to us. Both of us. It scares the s.h.i.t out of you. The only way you can handle that is to keep acting like a foster kid forced to be part of a family he knows he really can't do without. So he p.i.s.ses and moans about how he hates them, even as he hopes they'll always be there."

His jaw flexed and he crossed his arms over his chest, walling himself off to her. Deliberately, she curled her fingers over the rigid forearm on top, felt the quiver of reaction. "Surrender is your choice, Gideon. That's the thing you want the most and can't accept. If you ever accept it, you come back to us. But until then, we're done playing Mommy and Daddy to you."

"Go to h.e.l.l."

Anwyn thanked all the years she'd had to practice a neutral expression in volatile circ.u.mstances, because she had to draw on it as she never had before when the venomous words pierced her. His mind was pure roiling emotion. She could handle all that, the usual rage and fury, but not the sudden panic beneath the anger. He was realizing that she really meant it. Except he believed she truly wanted wanted him gone, because his mind wouldn't accept her words. him gone, because his mind wouldn't accept her words.

Oh, Gideon.

He recoiled from her touch. "I was around when you needed a nursemaid, or a big brother, or a quick f.u.c.k to scratch your itch," he spat. "I was your babysitter for Daegan. Now all you need is each other. You don't get to make yourselves feel better by telling me it's for some f.u.c.king magnanimous reason. You're tossing me out of the nest because that's what you want, what's easiest for you both. Well, you didn't have to come up with some sentimental excuse. I told you I'd eventually leave."

She moved in again; he moved back again. One more step, and he had nowhere but the corner, unless he wanted to knock her down. She lifted her chin so their faces were inches apart. His body was vibrating with fury, and a heartbreaking need to reach out, to offer something to her to change her mind. She visualized herself encased in solid ice, and was glad Daegan wasn't here, because she didn't think she could handle any acknowledgment of the pain she was feeling.

"I wanted to do the same thing. Rationalize it, tell myself to give you more time, the time you say you need. It was a comfortable idea. You've lived your whole life under one belief system, and it's difficult to change. You've never doubted your instincts as a hunter. It's what you know best. This transition threw me off, but somewhere along the past three days, I remembered that, as a Mistress, I never doubted my instincts. And I shouldn't have forgotten that. You're ready to make this decision, Gideon. This is a thorn that has to be drawn out immediately, no matter how much pain it causes. Leaving it in, hoping it will work itself out, will only lead to festering, infection. For all of us."

He was staring at the ground to the left of her body, closing himself off to her. But she could tell from the c.o.c.k of his head, the thrumming tension of his body, he was listening to every word. Probably looking for a way to change her mind, refute her logic, but he'd remember the words later. She hoped.

"As I told you from the beginning, you're not a submissive, Gideon, but you are a servant. You serve. That's your deepest dream, to protect and serve the love and needs of another to the fullest extent of your soul. And I think Daegan and I are the ones you wish to serve. But you have to believe that yourself. A Master or Mistress can help you with your belief. It doesn't have to be perfect from the very beginning. But you have to accept it exists before we can do anything else.

"I think I told you once it's easier for some submissive males to be forced. You give them the safe word they'll never use, and then you have a license to beat them, chain them, drag them to you by their b.a.l.l.s, no matter how much they fight or struggle or curse you. Because nothing is more frightening to them than being forced to face the fact they need, they suffer. They love."

He was drawing darkness around him with every word, shoving her away from his mind, shoving her back from him. She stopped, bit her lip, gave herself a full moment before she spoke again. He stayed silent, waiting. Waiting to escape.

"Go, Gideon," she said. "Because you're not a submissive, I won't grant your wish. You're my servant. I want your obedience and surrender, freely given."

Stepping back now such that she drew his attention to her face, she hardened her tone. "And I want it for both of us. You give it to me and and Daegan, belong to us both the way I know your c.o.c.k, heart and soul want to, or you don't come back. We are a family," she said, her voice laden with emotion. "But one of choice. You no longer have my permission to dishonor that with lies to yourself. Choose, or go with my love and best wishes." Daegan, belong to us both the way I know your c.o.c.k, heart and soul want to, or you don't come back. We are a family," she said, her voice laden with emotion. "But one of choice. You no longer have my permission to dishonor that with lies to yourself. Choose, or go with my love and best wishes."

Choose. Yeah, right. With her three freaking bullet points, she'd set an impossible bar. Probably because she knew it was impossible. They didn't want him here. But for a few moments, he was paralyzed. He guessed he'd known all along. The pain had been building for these three days, so now her words froze every nerve ending, made it hard to breathe or even function.

She'd turned on her heel without another word, and left their quarters. Leaving him to pack up his few belongings and get out. It took only minutes, something that felt like hours. When he was done, he didn't let himself look at anything. Not the morning paper Daegan had left on the sofa so Gideon could read it, a new routine they'd adopted, or the silk robe Anwyn had draped on the back of her vanity chair, visible through the open door of her bedroom. The fabric would smell like her, and he had to fight the desire to steal it, ball it up and stick it in his bag to take with him.

The stuffed gremlin he'd bought her was sitting on her bed, staring at him in a way that felt smug, not cute. Which just confirmed he was about two clicks from losing it.