My One and Only (Bewitched and Bewildered #10)(32)

"No," was his muffled reply.

Laughing she rolled him to one side. As she scooted to the edge of the platform she ran her hand where her body was just lying.

"How? It's not even sweaty?"

Micah grinned. "Self-cleaning sheets. Leif perfected them for Vivi. Since he owed me a favor I got the next sets for the platform and the bed upstairs."

Serenity squirmed and made a face at him. "It didn't clean me. I'm heading to the shower."

Micah waved her on. "When I get feeling back in my extremities I'll join you."

She shook her head. "Poor baby."

"Feel free to start again without me. I'll try to make it up there before you finish."

"No offense, because you literally rocked my universe, but I don't think I can handle any more tonight. I feel like we had a lifetime's worth of orgasms when we claimed one another."

Micah frowned and she laughed. "Don't worry Romeo, I'm sure we'll both feel better tomorrow."

She blew him a kiss and headed inside to clean up.





*****





He tried to stay calm as she walked away. There was no way Fate gave them a lifetime in one moment because he was going to lose his mate. His nightmares haunted him as he lay on the platform staring up at the false night sky.

He didn't care if he had to fight the gods themselves. He wouldn't lose his mate, he'd save her, even from herself.





*****





Serenity lay beside her mate in their bed for their first night together. The room was dark except for a tiny globe that looked like a miniature moon. The soft glow was comforting and illuminated the room just enough so she wouldn't stub her toe in the middle of the night going to the bathroom. She rolled on to one side and studied her mate's face.

Their claiming had been nothing like she'd ever heard of. It hadn't affected just her body, but her heart and mind as well. Each one of those fragments had become like memories to her. She felt in her soul that she and Micah were mated years instead of hours. Were they premonitions of moments to come? She snorted as she remembered aiming a paintbrush at his head.

"What?" Micah asked turning to face her.

"I was remembering how I threw the paintbrush at you when we were decorating the nursery."

"Was it for the nursery?" he asked. "All I got from that moment was my frantic efforts to calm you down."

She reached up and traced his lips. "Yup, it was for the nursery."

His smile turned goofy then he frowned fiercely. "Childbirth is traumatic, I don't think I could handle watching your pain. Couldn't we just lay an egg?"

She rolled her eyes. "When the time comes Laelia will be with us, Radclyffe too. We'll be fine."

Micah brightened. "Do they know a spell to pop the baby out without all the screaming and blood?"

"No, but they'll keep me from killing you."

"Definitely a good thing," he said.

"Micah?" she said softly, wondering if she should ask about her nightmares.

"Yes? My one and only."

"Did you have dreams before you met me?"

He frowned and simply nodded.

"I did too. They frightened me because in them I lose you. I never saw what chased you but knew it was your past, the secrets you kept. You wept for the dead men at your feet and I knew they were close to you. After meeting your unit I am pretty sure it was them." She shuddered remembering the tearing sense of loss each nightmare provoked.

He pulled her under his chin. "I could face anything but the deaths of my brothers," he whispered. He pulled back and looked her in the eye. "If I asked you to leave here with me, would you?"

She nodded without even needing to think about it. He was her mate and where he went, she would follow. "I would hope that before we leave you would trust me enough to tell me why you're so scared.

"I'm not scared," he protested immediately.

"I thought my mate was progressive enough and secure enough in his masculinity to admit to being afraid."

"It's technically not fear, it's an inborn sense of survival."

"Survival of what?"

"A massacre," he said softly.

"What massacre?" she asked.

"One that took place nearly five thousand years ago in Storm Keep."

"There was no massacre in Storm Keep," she scoffed.

"There was," he insisted.

"I think I would remember reading about that," she replied.

"There was," he repeated calmly.

"There wasn't!" she shouted, frightening herself. "Micah? What just happened?"

"That, my one and only, is a conditioned response that has been passed down at a genetic level based on a citywide manipulation of the people's memory." He pointed around to the darkened room and down to where they lay. "Most people react better in a dark, quiet room where they aren't distracted by what they see or hear. Physical contact also helps." He gave a low chuckle. "Yet another reason why I prefer you naked."

"There was a massacre?" she asked, afraid to believe her own mind.

"Yes. Storm Keep's royal family was driven from the castle and their most loyal retainers killed when the manipulation failed to work on them."