Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Heather Long Page A

two different things. He sucked in a deep cleansing breath, found his center, and grounded the chaotic swirl of emotions in him. Cassie complained once that she found it hard to get her equilibrium around them, that they robbed her of thought. He hadn’t really understood it.
    Until now.
    The hum in his ears diminished, and his pulse calmed. Confident he had some measure of control back, he turned to look at the man he was beginning to think of as a best friend, if not his closest ally and yes, on some level, his family.
    “Is it Cassie?” Was this a reflection of their need for her? Their ties to her bound them in the beginning, but it went deeper than that now. He wasn’t too hidebound or stubborn to admit to those changes.
    “No.” Helcyon shook his head slowly. The dark length of his hair seemed to slide over the cotton shirt, a riot of untamed darkness shadowing his reserved expression. All trace of his earlier humor seemed to have evaporated.
    “But you know what it is?”
    He knew the answer before the Elf nodded.
    “I’m about to be really pissed off, aren’t I?”
    Again, he expected the grave nod and blew out a long breath. Hands on his hips, he dropped his gaze to the wooden floors. The house that Cassie’s love built. The house they built together. It decorated every notch in the wood, every stitch of the furniture, and reflected in every blade of the grass.
    For better or worse, they were all in this together.
    “Fine. Coffee first. Then you can explain it.” He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen.
    Helcyon followed at a more sedate pace. “Jacob…”
    “Uh-uh.” He turned and pointed a finger at him. “Not a word. Not till after I have coffee and you have whatever the hell it is you’re going to drink. Just keep your happy hummy thoughts to yourself. I want a clear head when we discuss this.”
    Amusement speared him at the faint upward twitching of the Elf’s lips. Jacob sighed and focused all of his attention on the coffeepot. He paid particular attention to measuring the coffee, adding the filter and pouring the water into the reservoir.
    Because whatever the hell this was, if it meant he was falling in love with the Elf, he may just have to punch him before he kissed him.
    Hell, he might punch him anyway.

Chapter Eleven
     
    Helcyon chuckled at the image in Jacob’s mind. The last thing he wanted to do was kiss the Wizard. But the mild offense coupled with the intense desire to hit him struck his funny bone. The amusement rolled through him and redoubled when it struck the open connection between him and the Wizard.
    Bastard. Jacob didn’t even try to disguise the thought as he flattened his hands against the counter and laughed until tears crept out of the corners of his eyes.
    “Sometimes.” It was the maudlin apology in the word that dried up the dregs of humor soaking through his mind. It felt good to laugh. To really laugh. He’d not had much in the last few hundred years to be cheerful about.
    Loving Cassandra brought the light back. Jacob’s acceptance and friendship turned up the warmth. But the family they were forging, the lack of censure and judgment, it reminded him of everything he’d missed in the centuries since bad feelings hardened into war between Wizard and Fae.
    Too many centuries Underhill left him a diminished shell of himself. He’d forgotten who he was, what it was to be Helcyon, Lord of Sun and Sword. He tested the silver twining silver that extended through him to Jacob. The connection remained new, delicate almost, yet stronger than he expected. The connection bypassed Cassandra, despite the silver twining through her, bridging them together. They were bound on another level.
    The bond was different than one he shared with Cassandra. The differences were not subtle, the shape of the silver twining on silver, the dimension of it. They were more slender, tighter woven, and where Cassandra’s link pulsed, even in sleep, with the constant