“At least promise me you’ll stay in HQ until they arrive.” He leaned close and kissed her neck, then whispered, “Do it for your handsome husband.”

Laughing, she said, “I promise to stay in bed for the rest of the morning as long as you stay with me. After that...no promises.”

“What if I give you a very good reason to stay in bed until I squash The Mosquito?”

She drew back, and desire burned in her gaze. “What’s the reason?”

“Me taking care of you until you’re out of breath and a puddle in my hands. A service I’ll be happy to perform anytime during your...bed rest.” He nibbled on her earlobe.

“Oh, my. Someone certainly has a high opinion of himself,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, yes! Show me what you can do, and I’ll consider your request.”

He grinned. “Accepted.”

Not giving her time to reply, Valek pulled her to their bedroom and made short work of her clothing. A few bloody scrapes marked her back and a number of bruises peppered her arms. Valek suppressed his fury with the knowledge that The Mosquito would soon be crushed.

Valek scooped her up and laid her on the bed, then kissed her for a long moment. She plucked at his clothing, and he grabbed her hands. “This is for you, love.”

“Exactly. Now strip.”

He peeled off the tight garment, but his gaze never left her. Once divested of his clothing, he joined her on the bed. He trailed kisses down her neck. Valek had been convinced he’d lost her when she hadn’t returned from her mission, and he planned to savor this time with her as if it were the last. His efforts left her gasping, and he gave her three very good reasons to stay in bed.

She stretched like a cat and curled up next to him. Yelena met his gaze. “You’re really worried about the bounty on me?”

Valek traced the recently healed cut along her side with a finger. Purple bruises ringed the bright red line. “I know you can handle an assassin.” He quirked a smile. “Or two, but with fifty golds at stake...a gang of wannabe bounty hunters could come after you together and split the money.”

“All right, I’ll stay in HQ until you’ve dealt with The Mosquito,” she promised.

A weight lifted from his shoulders. He pulled her close. She snuggled against him and fell asleep almost immediately. He smoothed her long black hair back from her beautiful oval face. The knowledge that he’d do anything to keep her and the baby safe comforted him, since it required no thinking, no weighing the consequences of his actions and no hesitation.

Valek had once felt the same uncomplicated feelings for the Commander, but not anymore. Even if the Commander’s behavior had been caused by Owen’s magical hold on him, Valek could no longer return to that place of blind loyalty. His new magic complicated everything, of course. However, that would just be an excuse. No. Yelena meant more to him than his own life and happiness, and much more than the Commander’s.

* * *

Valek woke a few hours later and slid from the bed without waking his wife. An automatic smile still spread over his lips every time he thought of Yelena as his wife. Not many people knew of their marriage, and even fewer were aware of the baby, but the fact that they had exchanged vows continued to thrill him, as if he’d won the biggest tournament in the entire world.

Going down one level, Valek stopped in Fisk’s office. The stark room contained a desk, a couple chairs and a table. The young leader of the Helper’s Guild bent over his desk. The fingers of his right hand ran through his light brown hair, leaving behind rows of spikes, while his left clutched a stylus. He frowned at a sheet of parchment spread over the desk.

Valek tapped on the open door, and Fisk glanced up. Dark smudges marked his light brown eyes. The poor boy appeared years older than seventeen.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Valek asked.

Fisk blinked at him. “Sleep? What’s that?”

“Not funny.”

Fisk dropped the stylus and rubbed his face. “Wish I was joking.”

“Bring me up to date, and then take a break.”

“But—”

“It’s not a request. Exhaustion will only lead to fatal mistakes. I’ll collect the information from your guild while you rest.”

He grinned. “Half of them are terrified of you and won’t report.”

“Then they can wait until you’re awake. What’s the latest intel?”

Fisk filled him in. “We think Hans Cloud Mist is a member of the Cartel. He’s been spotted at the Moon garrison twice, and we’ve confirmed Danae Bloodgood and Toki Krystal as members.”

Valek considered this for a moment. They were all influential businesspeople who thought their accumulated wealth and business acumen meant they could do a better job of running Sitia than the appointed Councilors. “I’m beginning to suspect there are eleven members, one for each clan, with Bruns designated as their leader,” he mused.

“Sounds like something they’d do to justify their actions.”

Interesting comment. “What do you mean?”

Fisk leaned back and spread his arms. “They decided that the Sitian Council was not doing a proper job of keeping Sitia safe from the Commander. Plus the Council also failed to rein in the Sitian magicians, letting them go about their business willy-nilly.”

“Willy-nilly?”

“Yeah, you know.” Waving his hands, Fisk elaborated, “Selling null shields to anyone, using their magic for selfish reasons. I think the Cartel feels they can do better than the Councilors, but they still honor the structure the clans have established long ago. So they’re not really usurping the Council—just replacing them.”