For the Clan
Page 20
"Any day. I'm betting Tuesday. Jace says Thursday."
"And yet the majority of the clan thinks you're crazy. It'll be Saturday." Sheyla punched Roan's bicep. "These two are going to be partiers, I just know it. Double the trouble and a whole lot of fun."
Roan snorted. "Sure, 'cause statistics has nothing to do with it." He drew his fingers over his stubbly jaw. "And I really hope you're wrong. Nan and Rigo run me over like a four-wheel drive on a regular basis. Really hoping the twins are quiet, behaved, amused but I know what they're up to, you know? Like Hart when you tell him to choose between being an ass and screwing himself or being a man and getting some."
Sheyla shrugged. "He knows what's good for him if he expects to keep me. Apparently I'm a whole galaxy better than being alone, even if I can kill him with my pinkie." A salacious smile curved her lips. "Whatever he believed about Vens before is nothing but bull now. He'll take out anyone who lays one finger on us or those kidlets of yours. It's kinda hot, really. Him, and his loaded gun, and no clothes, cock hard as titanium—"
"Okay, overshare." Roan held up his hands. "I got mine, you got yours, let's just leave that there."
"Sometimes you're absolutely no fun." Sheyla winked, patted his cheek, and spun away to return to the puppies.
The way Sheyla blended into the group and drew adoring gazes from the excited children pushed their conversation out of his mind. She belonged to Teach as much as he did. Although the clan had been wary after she'd first arrived, they'd come around to appreciating both her and Roan, accepting them as family.
Marriage helps. Roan glanced at the wedding band tattooed on his ring finger, identical to that of Jace and Cayra. There'd be no question of their loyalties to the clan or their children's legitimacy. When Jace was ready to step down from leadership, Nannie would be the next in line—if she wanted it. Given her stubbornness, clever ideas, and the magic already making itself known, she'd be a force the governtary would want to avoid. Roan could imagine what she'd be like in ten years, especially after he and Jace taught her how to defend herself. That was without factoring in the abilities of her siblings.
The prospect terrified him. Still, he couldn't wait to see what they could do. After hating himself for so long, it took seeing his children delight in their abilities to accept it wasn't all bad. Their faces lit up whenever they used their magic. They considered it beautiful, and their unrestrained excitement instilled something in Roan he'd always had trouble holding onto: hope. If he could continue to safeguard their freedom—if they never knew bloodshed or lost their clan—it would be enough to take comfort in his own abilities.
If they were lucky, the governtary had learnt their lesson. For five years, they'd left Teach and the other Old London clans alone. Even the rogue militants didn't bother the clans. Once Teach had reclaimed the settlement days after it was leveled, the rogue soldiers disappeared. Thanks to both Cayra and the outcome of the attack, Teach had formed an alliance with the Windsor clans, posing a threat to anyone looking to start trouble in the southern regions of the province.
Soon after, more than one Ven had stumbled into Teach seeking refuge. They weren't refused by any of the clans in the region. Roan was no longer alone: more than a dozen Vens lived in the safety of the clans, banded together in a security commission that aimed to be the governtary's living nightmare should soldiers attack.
They'd never be rounded up for torture again.
And the governtary would never touch his children.
Heaven help you bastards if you do because there won't be enough of you for anyone else to work with.
Scuffling sounds snatched him from his thoughts.
"What'd I miss?" Jace murmured behind Roan. He kissed Roan's neck, his lips lingering with a slow, warm breath. His arm slipped around Roan's waist as he rested his chin on Roan's shoulder, his mouth pressed to Roan's ear. "And what's our daughter up to?"
Roan shivered. His skin tingled, raising goose bumps in its wake. A rush of warmth pooled in his chest and shot through him, driving joy to his head and desire to his groin. The "our" in "our daughter" or "our son" always got to him. He'd never tire of hearing it. He was addicted.
"She's found the puppy she wants," Roan replied, taking a shallow breath. Reaching around Jace's naked torso, he hooked his thumb into the waistband of Jace's pants. "Which one of us is going to say no?"
"Neither." Jace nuzzled Roan's ear. "I'm leaving the decision to Cay. Let them hash it out and do the girl thing. I know my place."
Just like Roan knew his. Here with you, and that's never going to change. No longer was he homeless or alone. This was his family—his blood. Jace and Cayra would never let him be taken, and he would fight to the death for them.
In some ways, he already had.
The settlement's fight with the governtary soldiers had destroyed who he had been. The clan couldn't see it, but Roan felt it. Anger didn't consume him. He no longer saw enemies in the clan members. The respect and gratitude they'd offered him after he'd nearly died on the field gave him a chance to forgive them for their ignorance. That day, they weren't the only ones to learn he was Clan Teach at heart after all. Roan did, too.
And from the first time he peered into Nannie's eyes, cradling her just after she took her first breath, he'd come to peace with who he was and what he'd done. After a lifetime of not truly knowing himself, he'd finally figured it out. He wasn't a freak, slave, or coldhearted killer. He wasn't nothing. He was a husband, father, protector, freedom fighter, and a game changer—everything that made life worth living.
This was his second chance, his deliverance. He'd been lost, and now he was found. He loved and was loved, pledging to Jace, Cayra, and their children his unwavering commitment.
He'd never be lost again.
FIN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Archer Kay Leah was raised in Canada, growing up in a port town at a time when it was starting to become more diverse, both visibly and vocally. Combined with the variety of interests found in Archer’s family and the never-ending need to be creative, this diversity inspired a love for toying with characters and their relationships, exploring new experiences and difficult situations.
Archer most enjoys writing speculative fiction and is engaged in a very particular love affair with fantasy, especially when it is dark and emotionally charged. When not reading and writing for work or play, Archer is a geek with too many hobbies and keeps busy with other creative endeavors, a music addiction, and whatever else comes along. Archer lives in London, Ontario with a same-sex partner and their cat.
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