Bound to Four

Season 2 Thing Not Said

Liora’s breath trembled as she pressed soft kisses along Kael’s bare chest, her hands clutching at him like she could keep him here by force alone.

“I can help,” she whispered against his skin. “I promise I can help.”

The room was still dark in the early morning, the city outside barely beginning to glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Their sheets were twisted around them, warm and tangled, and Kael had not slept at all.

Neither had she.

His hand moved slowly up her back, fingers tracing her spine, memorizing. His mind was somewhere else entirely, already halfway gone, running through routes, supplies, names, every possible disaster waiting for him beyond those walls.

But his body betrayed him.

It always did with her.

His thumb brushed beneath her chin, lifting her face so he could look at her.

“You know I can’t take you.”

His voice was low, rough from exhaustion and everything he was trying not to say.

“We don’t know what’s waiting out there. I’m not walking you into that.”

With easy strength, he pulled her onto his lap. Liora wrapped herself around him instantly, arms around his neck, her mouth finding the side of his throat.

Kael groaned softly, his hands tightening on her hips.

“That’s not fair.”

Her lips moved against his skin.

“Neither is leaving me here.”

That landed.

Hard.

His jaw flexed. His body wanted one thing. His chest was splitting open with another.

He lifted her off him and set her gently back on the bed, towering over her for a moment before he kissed her, deep and desperate, like he was trying to leave enough of himself behind to survive the distance.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.

“Please,” he said quietly. “Don’t make this harder.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes now, barely held back.

“It’s Thalen.”

The words hit like a blade.

Kael stood so suddenly the mattress shifted beneath her.

Of course it was.

Thalen.

Always Thalen.

Jealousy came hot and ugly, sharp enough to make him hate himself for feeling it.

He dragged a hand through his hair and grabbed the duffel bag from the floor, shoving clothes into it with far more violence than necessary.

“Right,” he muttered. “And somehow I’m still the one packing the bag.”

Liora stood, robe half hanging from one shoulder, and stepped directly into his space.

She put one hand flat against his chest, right over the frantic beat of his heart.

“I would send an army for you.”

Her voice shook.

“If you were the one out there, I would burn the world to get you back.”

That stopped him.

Completely.

She reached into the open bag between them and slowly pulled out a pair of black lace panties, lifting one eyebrow through her tears.

Silence.

Then Kael let out one broken, disbelieving laugh.

Because of course.

Because even in the middle of grief, she was still her.

His shoulders dropped.

The fight left him all at once.

He dropped the bag.

Then he lifted her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her back to the bed, kissing her like he was starving, like jealousy and fear and love had all become the same thing inside him.

His mouth was rough, possessive, desperate.

Not because he thought she loved Thalen more.

Because he was terrified she would lose him too.

Because he was terrified he would let her.

Downstairs, Rook stared at the pan of breakfast potatoes and sighed.

“Ten minutes,” he muttered to himself.

Maybe.

From the kitchen table, Cassian looked up from a battlefield made of maps, shipping routes, and enough coffee cups to qualify as a personal crisis. His laptop fan whined in protest after being left on all night.

From upstairs came the unmistakable sound of furniture hitting walls.

Cassian didn’t even blink.

“Maybe,” he said dryly, “if it were you, Kael would be finished in five.”

Rook slammed the spatula onto the counter.

“You’re not getting breakfast.”

Cassian lifted both hands.

“That was affectionate. You’re very sensitive this morning.”

Rook turned off the stove with far more force than necessary and dropped into the chair across from him.

“Find anything?”

Cassian rotated the tablet toward him.

A map lit up with red marks along the coast.

“There was a private boat chartered from the mainland the same day Thalen disappeared. No return record. Offshore route here.”

Rook leaned closer.

Neither of them spoke for a second.

Because neither of them said the real thing.

If Thalen had gone willingly, that was one problem.

If he hadn’t,

Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs.

Kael appeared, carrying his duffel bag and wearing absolutely no clothes.

Rook threw both hands over his eyes.

“Dude. Clothes policy.”

Kael ignored him completely, walked straight to the stove, picked up the entire pan of breakfast potatoes, and started eating them with his bare hands.

Rook stared.

Cassian nodded once.

“Yes. That seems emotionally stable.” Holding up the map to Kael.

Still chewing, Kael looked at the map, grunted approval, and shoved it into the bag.

Then he turned toward the balcony doors.

“Don’t steal my wife while I’m gone, vampire.”

Cassian smirked.

“You mean my wife, ”

He stopped.

Because Liora came flying down the stairs in nothing but a hastily tied robe and panic.

“Wait.”

Kael turned.

Morning sunlight poured through the glass behind him, catching the hard lines of him, the scars, the sheer impossible size of him.

Liora launched herself into his arms.

He caught her like he always would.

Their kiss wasn’t soft.

It was desperate. Angry. Terrified.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“I don’t want to lose you too.”

The words barely made it out.

Kael cupped her face, his forehead touching hers.

His voice was rough.

“I’ll bring him home.”

A pause.

“And you do not need to worry about me.”

He gave her the faintest smile.

“I breathe fire.”

She laughed once, wet and broken.

He kissed her again.

Then stepped onto the balcony.

His body shifted.

Bones cracked.

Muscle stretched.

Black scales rolled over the skin like shadows coming to life.

Wings erupted wide enough to darken half the city below.

Massive. Ancient. Beautiful.

Dragon.

With the duffel bag looking absurdly small in one claw, he launched himself into the morning sky.

Liora stood there long after he disappeared.

Only when the cold finally reached her did she feel Cassian behind her.

His arms wrapped carefully around her waist, like she might break if he held too tightly.

He kissed the top of her head.

Soft.

Apologetic.

“How did this happen?” she whispered.

Cassian was quiet for too long.

She turned.

One look at his face told her everything.

Her stomach dropped.

“You knew.”

His jaw tightened.

“I didn’t know. I suspected.”

“That’s worse.”

“Liora, ”

“No.”

She stepped away from him, grief turning sharp and hot.

“You do not get to decide what I can survive.”

His voice stayed maddeningly calm.

“I thought he could handle it.”

“I am not a child!”

The vase hit the wall beside him and shattered.

Flowers exploded across marble.

Cassian retreated toward the kitchen with the survival instincts of a man who had lived with other monsters for too long.

Rook peeked around the corner just in time to dodge a couch pillow thrown directly at his head.

“I come in peace,” he said. “I have breakfast.”

Liora stood in the wreckage, shaking.

Then suddenly she wasn’t standing anymore.

Rook crossed the room and pulled her into him before she could argue, and the second his arms closed around her, she broke.

Her sobs hit hard and ugly against his chest.

He stroked her hair slowly, letting her cry.

“He’s been up all night trying to find him,” Rook murmured. “Don’t punish him for loving you badly.”

She laughed once through tears.

It sounded awful.

“I’m not mad at him.”

Her voice cracked.

“It just hurts.”

Rook’s own jealousy moved sharply and quietly through the bond, but he only kissed her temple and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I know.”

Then, softer:

“But starving dramatically won’t help.”

She let him guide her back toward the kitchen.

Cassian was leaning against the stove, eating scrambled eggs directly out of the pan with a fork.

He looked up mid-bite.

“Oh. Were these for everyone?”

Rook closed his eyes.

“You couldn’t wait five minutes?”

For the first time that morning, Liora smiled.

Small.

Real.

A vampire is eating her breakfast.

Perfect.

Then a phone rang.

Cassian dropped his fork and grabbed his phone.

Not his.

Rook had already gone still.

Slowly, he reached into his pocket and looked at the screen.

Something changed in his face.

“Who is it?” Liora asked quietly, reaching for the cereal box.

Rook didn’t answer.

He walked into the living room instead, voice low as he answered.

She followed.

Not close enough to hear words.

Just enough to feel the tension.

His shoulders were rigid.

His jaw locked.

When he turned and saw her standing there, he ended the call immediately.

Too fast.

Too practiced.

She folded her arms.

“Who was it?”

Silence stretched between them.

Morning light spilled across the expensive floor. The apartment felt too quiet again.

Rook looked at her.

And lied.

“No one.”