She and Malachi had been married in Malibu the month before, with her father and mother in attendance. Lena had been excited, thrilled to inform her friends about her daughter’s exotic new husband and home in Istanbul. Jasper had seemed… better. Slightly more stable, but still a giant mess. He’d also lost about ten years to his face, Jaron’s glamour dying with him. Luckily, he was in entertainment. Plastic surgery was almost expected.

That would work for now, but Malachi knew a serious conversation was inevitable.

Ava, by virtue of living in Turkey, was now on call for a lot more shoots in Asia, which kept her out of Los Angeles and away from curious eyes. Malachi was pleased. Ava… didn’t really care. She still enjoyed her job, but she could take pictures anywhere.

And though they kept the mansion in Southern California, they lived in Istanbul, sharing a house with his four brothers and Damien’s mate. It was crowded, but Ava was growing used to it. And when they periodically left for his grandparents’ house in Germany or a random photography job, Malachi’s people said nothing.

He watched her work, enjoying the sun on his face and the balmy air of Southern China. They were in the hills around Lijiang, and the weather was mild. The people were friendly, but he still kept an eye on the crowd. More were looking at the trio of American models posing with the old man in tribal costume, but a few had their eyes on his mate.

Because she was electric.

The anxiety, worry, and stress of living in danger had drained away, leaving Ava the woman she was born to be. Vibrant and curious. Funny and strong.

She had drawn him back from the edge of darkness more times than he could count. He still avoided children. Still flinched when he heard them laughing. The guilt assaulted him at the most unexpected times. He hated his weakness. Adored her strength.

“It will get better,” she told him, over and over again. “We have time.”

If Malachi wasn’t quite healed yet from the mental anguish of the battle in Vienna, someday he knew he would be.

His mate—his wife—had told him so.

She spun as if she’d known he was thinking about her and captured the smile he couldn’t hold back.

“Gotcha, handsome.”

HE rolled her to her back and moved down the bed.

“Yes,” she panted.

“Yes?”

“Mmmm.” Ava arched back, unable to say another word because the thing Malachi was doing should have been illegal. It probably was illegal in some countries.

He smiled against the inside of her thigh. “You have to be quiet.”

“When you say you want to take a break from work, you really mean a break.”

“I was feeling tense.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

“Better.” Malachi’s tongue circled her belly button and she groaned. “Much better now.”

“I live to help work out your tension.”

“Such a supportive mate.”

He laughed quietly and bit her thigh before he lowered his head again. Then his arm wrapped around her leg and his hand pressed down on her belly and Ava wanted to move, but she couldn’t and he—

The door crashed open. “Malachi, did you borrow the—Gabriel’s bloody fist!”

Ava screamed, and Rhys spun around to face the open doorway as Malachi roared and came off the bed, throwing a blanket over Ava’s body as she curled into a ball.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“Haven’t you heard of locks? Locks, Malachi!”

“Try knocking, you bloody—”

“Get out of our room and close the door!” Ava yelled.

Malachi shoved his brother out of the room and slammed the door shut. Then he locked it and leaned against it for good measure.

She pulled the covers over her head again and tried to get the image of Rhys’s face out of her mind. She pulled a pillow over her head too. It didn’t help much.

Malachi sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry.”

She burst from under the covers and battered him with the pillow. “You. Forgot. To. Lock. The. Door!”

“I’m sorry!” She could tell he was trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. I was just… distracted. And there were a couple hundred years when privacy wasn’t an issue.”

She fell back on the bed and covered herself with the blanket again. “I live in a supernatural fraternity house.”

“It’s not that bad.” He peeled the covers away and spooned her from behind. Ava tried to hide her head under a pillow, but he stole it. “Canım?”

“What?”

He kissed the back of her neck. “Does this mean you don’t want to—”

“Go back to work before I stun you.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Germany

HE WOKE WITH A START, the face of the child in the front of his mind. He sat up and put his head in his hands. This time when Malachi had caught the small body, the boy hadn’t dissolved. Instead, his eyes had opened and he’d lunged toward Ava, leaping on her and tearing into her throat before Malachi could catch him.

“Babe?” her sleepy voice asked at his side.

“I’m fine.”

“Come here.”

“I’m fine.”

“Come here anyway.”

He lay down next to her and gathered her into his arms.

Maybe it was the winter wind that echoed outside the house, reminding him how it had shrieked through the Stephansplatz. Maybe it was the way the snow fell outside. He hadn’t had a dream of the boy in months.