Eclipse Sector (V-Clan #3)

29. Ivana

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

IVANA

I blinked out of my erotic haze, my focus falling on my best friend. “B-Benz?” I stammered, confused by his appearance in my space.

“Servant Benz at your service,” he drawled, bending at the waist while holding a pizza box in one hand and a drink in the other. “Glad to see that you’re somewhat more coherent, though, Sunshine. Wish I could say the same for your Alpha.”

Cillian narrowed his gaze at Benz. “Careful, Beta.”

Benz looked at him and said, “You’re welcome, Alpha ,” before setting the items on my kitchen counter. “Is there anything else you need, Alpha ?”

Cillian bristled beneath me. “You’re lucky my Omega favors you as much as she does, Benz. It’s the only thing keeping me from teaching you a very important lesson.”

Benz grinned. “Perhaps I would enjoy the lesson, Alpha. Ever consider that?”

My snarky friend vanished before Cillian could reply, leaving the Alpha rumbling beneath me. “Did he just proposition me?”

“I think so.” My lips twitched. “I guess that means he’s starting to like you.”

Cillian’s expression told me he wasn’t a fan of this development. “I don’t need him to like me. I’m an Elite. He just has to respect me.”

“He’s my best friend. Him liking you is important to me,” I pointed out.

Some of Cillian’s irritation melted into an indulgent look. “Couldn’t Quinnlynn become your best friend instead?”

I could hear the lightheartedness underlining that question, causing my smile to grow as I replied, “No. You’re going to have to learn to love Benz.”

His head fell back on a groan. “ Love ? That’s too far, Omega. The only one I love is you. No one else.”

My smile faltered. “No one else?” I repeated. “Not even Kieran or Lorcan?”

He considered it for a moment before saying, “I respect and care about Kieran and Lorcan. They’re my brothers. But the way I love you is different from them. It’s more intense. More consuming. Just… more .”

My heart constricted in my chest, his words ones I’d never thought I’d hear from him. I’d hoped for a mating, maybe the opportunity to raise his pup.

But this?

Cillian admitting his love for me? Not just lust?

I…

“I love you, too,” I breathed, clasping his face between my hands. “Gods, Cillian. I really love you, too.”

His palm on my nape flexed, his gaze holding mine.

And then he was kissing me.

No, not just kissing me, owning me.

There was nothing tentative or restricting about this embrace. It was freeing. A new level of existence. A cataclysmic event.

“Gods, I want to bite you, Vana, but you need to eat first.” He kissed me again before I could reply.

But fuck food.

I want you to claim me, I thought at him. Please, Cillian.

“I want to, macushla. Fuck, I need to. But you just passed out from my inherited power, and you haven’t had anything since waking earlier. You have to eat, love. You need the energy. Because once I bite you, I’m going to rut you. Hard .”

I shivered at the mental image his words evoked inside my mind. Yes, yes.

He growled, his forehead meeting mine. “I asked Benz to bring your favorite—pizza with pepperoni and green olives. At least eat a slice, okay? If not for me or for yourself, then for our baby.” His hand left my nape to palm my stomach over my sweater.

I stilled, the meaningful motion causing my heart to skip a beat.

Our baby .

I placed my hand on his, our fingers locking together as I glanced down.

Our baby, I thought again.

“Our baby,” Cillian echoed out loud, pride underlining the words. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Ivana.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t feel very amazing.”

His opposite hand reached up to cup my cheek. “You’re an inspiration, macushla. You’re just a little tired at the moment, and rightly so. Let’s eat and see how you feel after, okay?”

I bit my lower lip, my insides seeming to spiral in twenty different directions at once.

Probably because I’d woken up with half a mate bond and a baby, and thought my Alpha didn’t want either of us.

Then I…

I can read minds , I marveled, wincing. Sort of, anyway?

I’d just learned that everything I thought I’d understood about Cillian earlier wasn’t accurate at all.

Oh, and I was pregnant.

So yeah. I was a little dizzy. My eyes were leaking. My heart kept beating a weird rhythm. My stomach growled. And heat seared my belly where Cillian’s hands and mine touched.

It was a lot to take in at once.

“Food,” I said, my voice thick with a thousand competing emotions. I cleared my throat. “Food sounds good.”

Cillian smiled, his thumb wiping away one of my tears. “Then let’s eat.”

I nodded and started climbing off of him, intending to grab some plates and set my two-seater table in the small dining area off the kitchen.

But Cillian caught my hips and gently sat me on the couch. “I’ll get it,” he told me, pushing away from the sofa and heading toward the kitchen.

He found the plates on the first try, as well as the silverware, confirming his familiarity with my space. Probably from feeding me while in heat.

My thighs clenched with the thought, and I cleared my throat again, my skin suddenly hot.

If Cillian noticed, he politely didn’t comment and instead brought me a plate. The scent of gooey cheese mixed with spicy pepperoni made my mouth salivate. Add the salty kiss of the green olives, and I was practically drooling.

“Did Benz tell you this is my favorite?” I wondered as I accepted the platter of Italian goodness.

“No,” Cillian replied before going to grab himself a slice.

Or that was what I thought he was doing, but instead he brought me a drink.

I would recognize that scent anywhere .

“Strawberry lemonade,” I said with a sigh before taking a long drink. My insides practically rejoiced in response to both the flavor and finally imbibing something. “Did Benz pick this up on a whim?”

“Nope,” Cillian murmured, grabbing himself a plate this time. Only, he didn’t immediately return, causing me to frown at his back.

“Do you like strawberry lemonade, then?” I guessed. “And pizza with pepperoni and green olives?”

“Strawberry lemonade is fine.” He turned around to join me, his plate holding a slice of mutilated pizza on it. “Pepperoni is okay, too. But I actually kind of hate green olives.”

And that explained the murdered slice of pizza on his plate. “Then why did you order green olives?” I asked, confused.

“Because it’s your favorite, at least when San Marinos makes it. I’ve noticed you forgo the olives from Eddie’s down the street, but you definitely prefer San Marinos. So that’s where I asked Benz to go.” He took a bite of his food while I gaped at him.

“You know my favorite pizzas?” I asked, stunned.

“I know a lot of your favorites, Vana,” he informed me with a wink. “Now eat, please. Before it gets cold.”

I wasn’t sure what surprised me the most—his admission or his use of the word please .

Regardless, I did what he said and nearly groaned at the flavor explosion on my tongue.

However, it only distracted me for a few bites before my curiosity was piqued again. “What other favorites do you know?” I couldn’t help the suspicion in my voice. Mainly because I couldn’t believe he actually knew these intimate things about me. I never thought he cared enough to notice.

“Hmm, let’s see.”

He set his mostly empty plate aside—I swore he ate that slice in, like, three quick bites. A small pile of olives was all that was left.

“Mint chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, not rainbow,” he began. “Bourbon chicken is a go-to meal. You’re also fond of grilled cheese, broccoli salad, and the occasional pierogi. And vodka tonic is your alcoholic drink of choice.”

I gawked at him.

Every detail was accurate.

“You also like your steaks served rare, typically marinated with lemon and pepper, and you’re not too keen on fish—which is unfortunate, given where we live. But you’ll tolerate it so long as there are condiments nearby to smother the fish in. And you’re not fond of mushrooms, carrots, raspberries, or black olives.”

All true.

“How do you know all that? From my thoughts?”

He shook his head. “No. I just pay attention.”

“Oh.” That made sense. He was in charge of guarding everyone in the sector. “I suppose you have to, with your job and everything.”

“No, Ivana.” He leaned forward, his hand cupping my jaw. “I’ve paid attention to you. I always have. And I always will.”

Oh , I repeated to myself. Oh.

I really didn’t know what to say to that. I’d always thought Cillian paid me little mind, choosing only to notice my presence when I stood right in front of him.

But this…

“I had no idea,” I whispered.

His lips curled a little. “Now you do.” He gestured his chin toward my plate. “Finish eating, macushla.”

I shivered, the promise underlining those three words making my stomach clench in anticipation.

He’s going to bite me.

Yes, I am, he agreed into my mind. But not until you finish what’s on your plate.

Another tremble worked its way through me at the dominance in his voice, his Alpha tone speaking on an intimate level to my inner Omega.

I took another bite, followed by a sip of heavenly lemonade, all while he watched.

The darkening gleam in his gaze made his future objectives clear, but I couldn’t help feeling a little curious about what he was actually thinking. What he was planning. What he’s imagining…

His mind opened to mine in a blink, showing me just what he wanted to do to me.

How and where he wanted to bite me.

There were three—no, four —places he had in mind. And right now, he intended to indulge in all four locations.

My throat suddenly felt dry, forcing me to take several more swallows of lemonade. Gods, I needed a distraction, or I was never going to finish this meal.

Something grounding.

Something… something not sexual.

The baby , I thought, palming my stomach. Yes. Think about the baby… not the process by which the baby was created… or my heat… or… or Cillian’s desire to claim me…

I shut my eyes.

And I swore I heard Cillian chuckle in response.

But when I peeked at him, he was the epitome of seriousness.

Which meant that laugh had been in his head.

Reading minds is… overwhelming. The words were meant for Cillian, but rather than think them as I usually would, I tried to speak directly to him. Like he could with me.

“Not quite,” he murmured aloud. “That was still just a thought. But it’s possible you won’t inherit my telepathy at all, and just the mind reading.”

“Just the mind reading,” I echoed, picking up my pizza again. “Like that’s some small detail.” I bit into the cheesy goodness and forced myself to chew while I considered everything I’d overheard outside.

Every insult.

Every thought .

Although, I wasn’t sure if they were all comments from their minds or if some of them had been uttered out loud. With Miranda, it was hard to say.

“ Oh. My. Gods. Pregnant and unclaimed. She’s even more pathetic now than she was before. ”

I winced as I recalled her callous words, then cringed, as thinking about them seemed to pull me into her thoughts once more.

She was currently looking at a menu, deciding what to eat.

“Ivana,” Cillian’s deep tones brought me back to him, his gaze capturing and holding mine. “I’m going to have to teach you how to tune out the voices.”

I swallowed, no longer hungry. “I’m not sure I like this new ability.” Especially as I could still hear Miranda whispering in the back of my mind, her words cruel, her thoughts even crueler.

And it wasn’t just her. I could hear… more .

My eyes closed again as an onslaught of voices suddenly poured into my mind, all of them seeming to talk at once.

Limus finally restocked the cheese. Thank the Gods.

Why is that Beta looking at me?

She has a pretty smile. Oh, but those lips would look far more interesting around my ? —

Ivana.

What’s the code again? Three, five, six? No. Ugh. Three, four, six?

Ashlyn wouldn’t run away.

I frowned. Is that Quinn’s voice?

But before I could try to follow the strand, a dozen more assaulted me at once. All of them about daily activities, or eating, or sex .

I clapped my hands over my head, no longer able to focus on anything around me. Nothing tangible. Just thoughts .

B positive is always so tangy.

Why is the milk always left out on the damn counter?

Countdown from ten. And breathe.

That little rebel left teeth marks in the table again!

Fuck, this is getting out of control. If they find out where ? —

Ivana!

I shuddered, that dominating voice drowning out all the rest.

Except it only lasted for a second.

Almost immediately, more voices assaulted me.

All of them spiraling into a chaotic mess of words and growls and noise that I couldn’t comprehend. It was too much. Too overwhelming. Too?—

A rumble reverberated through my head, the sound one that instantly calmed my mind and enclosed me in a sea of consistent vibrations.

Rhythmic.

Soothing.

Quiet .

I curled into the source of that repetitive thrum, realizing belatedly that it was Cillian’s purr. His arms were around me, holding me to his chest, his lips at my ear as he hummed softly against my ear.

I’ll teach you how to block them, he whispered into my mind. It won’t be difficult once you know how to form the mental walls, Ivana. You already have a natural inclination for it.

I-I do? I asked, shivering.

Yes. You’ve used it around me countless times. It’s why your mind is always so peaceful—you guard all your inner thoughts. Only the loudest ever escape your mind. His lips brushed my forehead. “We’ll figure this out, love,” he continued aloud. “I’ll help you.”

I leaned into him as another tremble worked its way down my spine. All I wanted to do was collapse into his purr and reside there for eternity.

My eyes were still closed, my insides nauseated from the onslaught of noise that had just assaulted my mind. But ever so slowly, I began to relax. At least a little.

I kept hearing all those statements on repeat, their owners a big blur.

Except for Quinn.

Her voice had stuck out.

Ashlyn wouldn’t run away.

My eyes opened. “Ashlyn’s missing.” I’d forgotten Cillian had mentioned that previously, when he’d been talking about prioritizing me over finding her. I’d asked a few questions, but then I’d been distracted by his confession about why he’d gone to see Kieran.

About me. About the serum. About how it may have altered my ability to consent.

But now… now I recalled clearly what we’d been discussing before that conversation.

“You put me first, even though Ashlyn might be in trouble,” I continued aloud. That was what he’d been saying when I’d interrupted him, asking about her whereabouts.

No, there was no might about it.

Ashlyn is in trouble .

And Cillian was too busy worrying about me to help Lorcan find her.

I’d realized a bit ago that I wanted to be his priority, but not at the cost of another life.

Ashlyn wouldn’t run away , Quinn had thought.

While I didn’t know the Z-Clan Omega well, I agreed with Quinn’s assessment.

“Yes, I put you first,” Cillian replied, making me frown.

What?

“It was the most natural decision in the world, Vana,” he went on, confusing me even more. “And it was the right one.” He cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing the hollow beneath my eye. “But I understand now that I pushed you away because it was the only way I could focus on Kieran and on Blood Sector. Embracing this—embracing us —changes everything for me.”

I blinked.

He’d said this to me before, while holding me in his arms.

Right before he mentioned Ashlyn .

I shook my head. “Stop distracting me,” I told him, causing his lips to curl down like mine had moments before.

“I was explaining why I put you first, or rather, that I’ve always put you first. I?—”

“No, I got that. I…” I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Ashlyn’s missing.”

“Yes, I know.”

“She wouldn’t run away.”

His mouth curved downward even more. “Okay.”

“No, I mean, I heard Quinn thinking about it, and I agree with her.” And I was definitely not making any sense right now because I kept changing topics on him.

With another shake of my head, I attempted to clear it.

Something about this was important.

Something about Ashlyn.

“She… she journals,” I mumbled, thinking aloud. “I mean, she writes. And she wrote in my journal on the plane. But she also… she told me about her…” I trailed off, recalling our conversation from our trip to Glacier Sector.

Her words were always so cryptic, like a warning.

“As a Z-Clan Omega, she’s prophetic,” I said slowly. “And she writes her visions down in her journals.” Which meant she should have seen this coming.

Maybe she did, I thought. Maybe that’s why she told me about her journals…

“I have so many notebooks filled with musings back in my nest. But only someone who knows where to look can find my diaries. ”

I’d been confused by why she’d felt the need to tell me this, but I was starting to think there might have been a very good reason indeed.

“I hide my journals beneath my nest, under the floorboards. That’s my secret.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“In case you ever need to know something.”

“Is there something I should know?”

“A great many things, I’m sure.”

My eyes widened. “We need to find those journals.”