CHAPTER THREE

As soon as Ciaran left, Knox gently pulled Harper flush against him and kissed her forehead. That gentle side of him hadn’t shown itself until she came along. Or maybe it hadn’t developed until then. “Stop feeling like you failed Asher.” Her shame was so strong that it brushed the edges of his consciousness. Even if their psyches weren’t joined, the emotion would have been easy enough to sense just by the look on her face.

Harper closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have left his side.”

“It’s not as if you left him in a room all by himself. Others were with him. And you weren’t gone for long, were you? No. Because you thought he was safe. He should have been safe. No one could have predicted that someone would be so bold as to try to get to Asher while he was in a house full of people. The important thing is that he’s fine, which he is.”

Intellectually, Harper knew he was right. Knew she’d had every reason to believe that Asher would be safe at her grandmother’s house. Especially since Jolene was a strong Prime who was well-known for retaliating hard. But that had obviously been what the mystery she-demon had counted on, hadn’t it? And Harper couldn’t help feeling like she should have been prepared for that, just as she couldn’t help feeling like she should have seen even halfway through Nora’s act.

Harper hadn’t suspected her half-brother, Roan, or Knox’s ex-bed buddy, Isla, of being part of some fucked-up group intending to see the fall of the Primes, but she had been repelled by both of them. Not Nora, though. No, Harper had actually liked the woman.

Stroking a hand down her hair, Knox pulled back to meet her eyes. So much torment there, he thought. It caused a twinge in his chest. “What are you thinking that makes you look like you want to slap yourself?”

“I’m thinking that it’s not even the first time I let Asher down. Yes, I know it’s illogical to feel guilty for not suspecting Nora of being a Horseman, but the guilt’s there all the same.”

“I can’t help feeling guilty that I didn’t escort you to the restroom the day she took you. If I had, you wouldn’t have been forced into early labor and you wouldn’t have gone through so much of it alone.”

Harper’s face scrunched up. “Why would you have escorted me to the restroom?”

“Why would you have suspected Nora?” he shot back. “If I’m not to blame, you’re not to blame.” But Knox understood why she struggled with the guilt. He knew it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t been at her side during every second of the labor, but that didn’t stop the guilt from creeping in. There was a truck load of anger there, too. It gutted him that he hadn’t been able to live up to his promise to be with her every step of the way; that he hadn’t experienced every single moment of the labor right along with her.

She absently rubbed at her upper arm. “I just can’t help feeling like I neglected Asher by leaving him with Ciaran.”

His demon pushed his way to the surface and spoke, “Your shame and guilt are senseless, little sphinx. You did all you could do. The child is unharmed. He is not in distress.”

“Which is the only reason I’m halfway rational right now.”

Knox seized control, forcing the demon to retreat and said, “You didn’t neglect Asher at any point. You protected him. No one could ever describe you as a neglectful parent, Harper.”

Knox knew why she was so hard on herself. She’d needlessly worried from the start that she wouldn’t be a good mother, considering her own parents were completely useless as not just parents but as living beings.

Her mother, Carla, was a twisted bitch who’d sold Harper to Jolene after aborting her hadn’t worked. Harper’s father, Lucian, was a self-centered nomad with the emotional age of a child. Knox had known that Harper would never be anything like either of them. She was everything a mother should be—caring, protective, nurturing, admiringly patient, and she loved Asher unconditionally.

Knox curled her hair around her ear. “We knew someone would try to get to Asher eventually.”

“I guess I was hoping that just maybe he’d be left alone.”

“They won’t get to him, Harper. No one will touch him. I’ll destroy demonkind before I let it happen.”

“I know. And I’ll be right at your side while you do it,” Harper vowed, meaning every word. And then he kissed her. As always, his potent sex appeal and alpha energy wrapped around her. Really, there was no escaping the effects of his raw sexual magnetism. No stopping her nerve endings from sparking to life or goosebumps sweeping across her flesh, making it hypersensitive.

Knox drew back and swiped his tongue along her lower lip. “You taste good.”

She smoothed a hand down his chest. “You look good. Far too good. It scrambles my thoughts.”

“Kind of like your scent scrambles mine.” He sipped from her mouth again. Inside him, his demon settled a little. It had missed her. Always did.

From minute one, she’d intrigued both Knox and his demon. Complex, guarded, elusive, and almost pathologically stubborn, his pretty and shiny little sphinx was a walking, talking challenge for any male. Barely five and a half feet tall, she was all carnal sensuality, innate grace, and iron strength. Her mouth, lush and erotic, was as tempting as her delicate yet sinfully curved body.

He loved knowing she was his. Loved knotting his fingers in her sleek dark hair as he fucked in and out of her. Loved watching her unusually glassy eyes, which were presently a soft violet shade, change color—it was something they did randomly yet often.

She was unique. Singular. There was literally no one like her … and she was all his. No one got to harm her and live, which meant the demon who made her bleed was on borrowed time. “Let me take another look at the scrape on your side,” said Knox.

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.”

“I want to see. Lift your shirt.”

“No, because you’ll fuss. I’m done with the fussing.”

His demon smiled at her snippy tone. People tended to do their best to please Knox, whether out of fear, respect, or a wish to win his favor. Not Harper. She’d never had a problem telling him “no”. Never bowed down to him. Never allowed him to intimidate her. Never sought his company or approval. Hell, she hadn’t even flirted with him.

Even now, she persistently defied him. Teased him. Frustrated him. Amused him. Constantly tested his patience. Pushed back if he pushed too far. Called him on his bullshit.

She also had a wicked temper and absolutely no problem unleashing it on him, just as she had no issue at all with standing up to his demon. Few people would dare to do the latter.

“You know I won’t drop it, Harper. Not when you’re hurt.”

She snorted. “And you know your tyrannical shit is absolutely wasted on me. You learned this on day one, and yet you keep on pushing. I’m confused.”

Knox wasn’t going to lie, he had initially tried to control her; it was instinct for him to control the things around him. It had been a pointless attempt in this case. His mate had her own mind—one he found supremely fascinating—and she knew how to use it. In truth, he didn’t want to control her. He liked that he couldn’t. Admired that she demanded that he respect her insistence on being heard and counted. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t always push to get his way.

Using his psychic hands, Knox shackled her wrists and pinned them behind her back. Ignoring her string of curses, he kept her plastered against him with one hand while peeling up her shirt with his other. “It’s healing well,” he said. “The wound’s closed.” He probed the cut on her head. “It seems to also be healing nicely.”

“I told you I was fine,” she clipped.