Saven Defiance (The Saven Series Book 4) (34 page)

He storms off before I’ve even had time to say goodbye.

I sigh. I’m completely fed up with all the tension and drama.

Logan winds his way through the over-crowded room, weaving in and out of crammed beds, overflowing carts, and sidestepping reams of medical staff rushing all over the place. “Where are we?” I only now think to ask. “And what happened outside? Are the others okay?”

“We’re in the palace, and this is usually the ballroom, but it was the only space big enough to house a makeshift hospital. The Council commissioned it due to the high number of casualties.” He jerks back quickly, narrowly avoiding colliding with a mobile cot.

“Has the fighting stopped? Are you in control?” My hand creeps up his neck into his hair. It’s longer, I note, as I run my fingers through the velvety-soft strands.

“We have control of the city, and Haydn has taken control of the guard. He has dispatched men to all of the larger districts to ensure they are cooperating. I touched base briefly with the Royal Advisory Council when we first arrived in the palace. They’ve been holed up here, holding the fort the last few days, awaiting our arrival. Emissary notes have been issued, and I made a brief broadcast to the nation. Hopefully, everywhere will have settled down by nightfall.” He ducks out of a nurse’s path as he makes a beeline toward the exit.

“I’m keeping you from your duties.”

“I’m right where I need to be. Where I want to be.” He kisses my cheek.

“Logan? Is that you?” a timid voice calls out.

Logan’s heart thumps furiously underneath my hand. Spinning around, with me in his arms, he urgently searches the room.

“Evana!” he cries, scanning row upon row of beds, anxiously seeking her out. My eyes follow suit as I try to locate her.

“I’m here.” A small hand shoots up in the air, and Logan takes off sprinting as if his life depends on it. I bounce up and down in his arms.

Evana is sitting up on a cot wedged in between a line of other cots. Sweat and blood mix with more sterile-like smells and other noxious fumes that I’d rather not think about. Logan places me on the end of her bed before carefully enveloping Evana in his arms. They hug silently for ages, and emotion bleeds into the air. Tiny beads of moisture well in my eyes.

He eases back, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you okay? Have they been taking good care of you?”

She bobs her head as she smiles at him with huge affection. “I’m fine. Still weak and tired, but there’s no long-lasting ill effects.”

He presses his forehead to hers. “Thank the stars. I was so worried about you.”

“As I was you. I’m so glad you’re safe and well.” She peers around him, smiling at me. “Both of you.” She gestures me forward with a wiggle of her fingers, and I move up the bed. Logan wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his warm body.

I clasp Evana’s hand. “I never got to deliver your letter. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know where it is. It was under my bed with the … with some other stuff, and I think my apartment was blown to pieces and I…” I trail off, realizing I’m babbling. “Yeah, I should probably stop talking now.” I look away, trying to deflect my embarrassment. It’s just I feel so badly for letting her down. I know how much it meant for her to find her son.

She pats my hand. “It’s okay, Sadie. You don’t need to explain.” Her words appear at odds with her crestfallen face, but I know she is sincere and that her crushing disappointment isn’t directed at me.

Logan’s gaze jumps between us. “What letter?”

“I gave Sadie a letter for Glenn. She was going to try and find him.” Her eyes well up.

“Jarod was working on it,” I tell Logan.

“When all of this is over, Evana, I promise I will find your son and bring you back home. You have my word.” He bends down and kisses her cheek before pulling me upright with him. “I’m sorry to have to rush off, but I’ve a meeting to attend to, and I need to get Sadie settled first. I promise I’ll visit you later, and I’ll arrange to have you moved to your private quarters.”

“You don’t need to go to any trouble,” she says, leaning her head back. “You have enough to deal with.”

Logan crouches over and cups her face tenderly. “Nothing is too much trouble for you.” His voice trembles. “You know I love you, right?”

I wonder if he’s ever told her that outright before.

“I haven’t.”

Her eyes glitter with unfettered emotion, and though I can’t see his face, I’m certain he is displaying the same intensity. “Oh, my sweet boy. I love you too. You know I would never have survived without you, don’t you, Logan? Loving you saved my sanity.”

It’s such a sweet, tender moment, and I’m on the verge of bawling like a baby.

When Logan turns around to face me, his eyes are moist. Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kiss him. He grabs me into his arms, nuzzling his head into my shoulder. Evana smiles at me behind his back.
“I want to tell her. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine by me.”

He kisses me softly before bending down and whispering in Evana’s ear. Her eyes grow wide, and she claps her hands in quiet glee. A massive grin breaks out across his face as she hugs him to her. “I’m delighted for you both. This is perfect news. Perfect.” She motions me down with her fingers and I oblige. She hugs me close. “Take care of my boy.”

“I will,” I promise.

Logan escorts me from the temporary ward out through the main wing of the palace. We garner more than our fair share of inquisitive stares though that could be because I’m in my bare feet and only wearing a knee-length hospital gown. I feel semi-naked. Logan offers to give me his shirt but I decline. I don’t want him parading the halls bare-chested. I haven’t misinterpreted the admiring glances he’s received from the females we’ve passed.

He points out various rooms as we walk, but it all goes over my head. This place is massive; the myriad of corridors are like an elaborate, confusing maze. Not for the first time, I can’t help contrasting our diverse upbringings.

The far side of the palace has clearly borne the brunt of the devastation. Crater-sized chunks are missing from the polished, cream floors, and we have to maneuver around them like an obstacle course. Dust and debris litter our path, and the air is cloying and dry. Cracked, broken framed photographs hang loosely from the walls. Others are shattered to pieces where they hit the ground. Tables, chairs and other exquisite pieces of furniture are overturned or fragmented beyond repair. Vases and decorative ornaments—no doubt expensive and most likely irreplaceable—lie smashed to smithereens. Fist-shaped holes mar the walls in an intermittent fashion.

This part of Logan’s home is a total mess. “Stars. This is awful. I’m so sorry, Logan.”

“Evana says Dante is responsible for a lot of this damage. It must have been one hell of a temper tantrum. This way,” he says, motioning at the elegant curved staircase in front of us.

My eyes flit over the succession of official-looking images and paintings lining the walls as we ascend the stairs. There’s a remarkable resemblance in the paternal line as I clap eyes over a succession of Logan’s relatives all with the same inky-black hair and striking blue eyes. I stop in front of an obvious one of Logan. He is only a child, but his distinctive features easily give his identity away. His twinkling ocean-blue eyes and cute little dimples dominate the picture magnificently. “How old were you there?”

“Ten.” He shoves his hand in his pockets as he inspects the photo.

“You look adorable.” I reach out and muss up his hair.

He quirks a brow. “Are we looking at the same picture?”

I nudge my elbow in his ribs. “Where’s Dante?” I’m curious to see what a douchebag-in-the-making looks like.

“His picture isn’t there.” He takes my hand, leading me up the stairs.

I slant an inquisitive look his way. “Why not?”

“The gallery is only for kings and heirs.”

That kind of sucks, but I don’t verbalize the thought. While I don’t have even a shred of sympathy for Dante anymore, a teeny-tiny part of me can sort of understand how Dante ended up like he did. Logan’s father was very callous toward him. It’s obvious who the favored son was. A part of me can relate, but I didn’t turn into evil incarnate.

Logan guides me to his room and stalks to the bathroom to run me a bath. I wander around his suite—no space this large could ever be referred to as only a room—and marvel at the clean sophisticated décor, the sleek, modern furniture, and the quirky little touches that brand it his space. I’m staring at a large digital board with a shit-eating grin on my face when Logan reappears.

“You are such a dork,” I exclaim as my fingers flit over the multitude of images and videos of Will Smith. Pinned quotes and sayings are highlighted, and I chuckle when I recognize a few. “Oh. My. God. Did you actually learn these on purpose?”

He reels me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “Will I be cementing my dork status if I answer affirmatively?”

“Absolutely.” I look up into his beautiful eyes. “But I only love you more for it.” I place my hands on his broad chest.

“I thought it might impress the girls.”

“Well, it impressed this girl.” I grin and he grins back at me. “What?”

He gives me a saucy wink. “You’re kinda feeling me up.”

My eyes trail my hands as they move on autopilot, sweeping and caressing the rippled planes of his muscled chest and shoulders. My eyes flick back up to his, and I raise my brows. “Are you complaining?”

“Angel, I would never complain about that.” His lips smash against mine, and fireworks burst to life in my chest sending hot tremors cascading throughout my body. He groans reluctantly as he pulls away. “I have to go and sort out Evana’s room before I attend the Council meeting.” He presses a tiny kiss against my collarbone and I shiver. “Your bath is ready, and I left some of my stuff in there for you. I’m not sure where your bag is, but I’ll get someone onto it.”

I feel cold the instant his arms are no longer around me. “Can I attend the meeting with you?”

He contemplates that for a second. “Sure.” He slips me a proud smile. “Going forward, you will have a rightful place at all meetings as my queen.”

And, of course, my cheeks burn flaming-red.

He snickers. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

I stick out my tongue and turn toward the bathroom. His laugh is even louder. “Go.” He swats my butt and I shriek. “Get in the tub before I change my mind and join you.”

A sizzle of electricity whips through the air, and our connection sends happy, naughty thoughts to my mind. With slow, deliberate movements, I sashay forward, lifting the hem of my hospital gown up and over my head. It flitters softly to the floor as Logan emits a clear intake of breath.

I tease him with measured thrusts of my bare hips and toss him a cheeky kiss over my shoulder.

“You. Are. Killing. Me.” His lustful look does funny things to me.

“Save those naughty thoughts for later,
My King
.” I lick my lips and flash him a look loaded with promise.

He moans, looking torn, and I take pity on him. “Go on, you need to get out of here. I’ll make it up to you later.”

His eyes gleam brightly as he blows me a kiss and exits the room.

As I ease my body into the warm water, I silently applaud myself for my first successful seductive show.

I’m spread-eagled across the couch, dressed only in Logan’s T-shirt when he returns about a half hour later. Closing the door, he stalls as his eyes trail a path up my legs. “You look frigging hot in my shirts. I’m almost tempted not to give you these,” he says, handing me a bundle of clothing.

“Almost?” I query, pulling myself up.

“There’s no way I’m bringing you to the Council meeting dressed like that.” He crawls over me and leans down. His mouth is only inches from mine. “This is for my eyes only.” His hand starts to creep up my thigh, and an ache begins to build low in my belly.

My back arches off the couch as his touch sends fiery shivers rippling all over my skin. Grabbing his head, I pull his mouth to mine, manically kissing him as if my life depends on it. He presses his body flush against mine and we groan in unison. My legs curl around his waist as he melts into me. Our kissing is growing more frenzied as we start to move against one another. I need to feel him, all of him, inside of me. The intensity of my need is thrilling and new, and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it. Of him. Logan’s delightful acknowledgment of my sentiment burns hot through our connection.