**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, conspiracy theories or epic awesomeness of The Conspiracy of Us series. I am not making any money off of this story - just having some fun. All the glory goes to Maggie Hall - may she continue to write stories about Stellan for all time.

A/N: This story picks up right at the end of Map of Fates. So...finish reading before you proceed. M for a reason kiddies... Also - I just realized (now that the story is over of course...blerg) that I spelled Luc's full name wrong - basically the whole time. So my apologies there.

CHAPTER ONE

Everything had gone blurry again. With one quick blink the intricate white damask swam back into focus on the grey wallpaper and I felt my eyes water with the effort. These contacts were going to be permanently stuck to my eyeballs if I didn't remember to blink. Then almost immediately I felt it build again through my body. I clenched my teeth as it boiled up from the pit of my stomach, my hands balled up the comforter and I let out a short breath willing the feeling to leave. It wouldn't, I knew it wouldn't. I'd spent three days trying anything I could think of to will it away. Sleeping, not sleeping, eating, not eating, exercise, cold showers, pacing, meditation - nothing worked. The bile bite at the back of my throat as my hands shook from fatigue. I couldn't even formulate a plan for our next step. If that's what Lydia and Cole had been going for I guess I'd have to give them this win. Three days. We'd lost three days because I was so angry I couldn't function anymore.

The anger was the only thing keeping me afloat, my only anchor in this sea of wrong my life had become. I'd heard of people using anger as their driving force, but all it had done was stall me out. I pushed a long, slow breath out from between my aching teeth and blinked again. My hands cramped and I let my whole body release feeling burnt out and exhausted.

A knock came at the door and I ignored it. It had only taken a day of my angry stares for everyone to realize they needed to knock first. It had taken a second day for them to realize that I wasn't going to let any of them in. There were muffled words, an exasperated sigh, and then the door swung open - Elodie.

"Enough," she looked me up and down, her bangs falling across her eyes for a moment.

"What?" I croaked at her, my throat dry.

"That's enough, Avery." She crossed the room leaving the door open. "We have lost three days, we don't have time to mourn."

"Mourn?" I narrowed my eyes at her, "what makes you think I'm mourning?"

Elodie held back her immediate retort and surveyed me again with her critical eyes. She slowly stopped directly in front of me.

"If not mourning, then why have you exiled yourself to this room?"

I moved to stand but she shot out a hand and sat me back down on the bed.

"It is perfectly fine to feel how you do, you don't have to do this alone." Her fingers pressed into my shoulder and I shrugged her off.

"Leave please," I replied through my teeth, the anger swirling in my stomach.

"I will not. The Saxons have three days on us now. It seems that Lydia and Cole," she stopped only for a moment as I flinched at their names, "are planning something larger scale. There hasn't been another test."

"So do something then." I shook off her hand and moved to stand. I knew she wouldn't stop now that she'd gotten me talking. I also knew I wouldn't be able to hold in my anger for much longer.

"Not without you." Elodie said matter of factly and crossed her arms over her chest. "We understand you are upset but the time for action…"

"I'm not upset." I snapped and then bit my lip trying, most likely in vain, to hold in the explosion.

"Then what are you?" She angrily countered. I saw flashes of movement next to the door - so I had an audience for this lashing. The anger exploded out of my mouth before I could stop it,

"I'm furious. You all know that. I am so angry I can barely breathe. I don't want to take it out on any of you, but I don't know how to stop it."

"You think some anger is going to push us away," she gave a little snort, "I highly doubt you could be scarier than Madam Dauphin."

"You don't get it. The five of you are all I have left now. If I push you away then all of this was for nothing. My mother died for nothing!"

"And if we just sit in this house until the next attack it will all have been for nothing as well." Elodie countered and rose an eyebrow at me.

I saw the flash of a white shirt at the doorjamb and focused my anger there, "get in here you two."

Jack and Stellan cautiously entered, sticking close to the wall, not making eye contact. It would appear Elodie was the only one that had the balls to confront me.

"Avery," Elodie dropped her arms, "We might be the only people in this world that understand your anger. We're all orphans because of the Circle."

For a second the anger caught in my chest, frozen, for the first time. I looked at each of them and could imagine all of our lives spiraling out from this current destiny. I could see our fates in a Circle-less world. I could see Elodie chatting and laughing at a cafe in Paris, I could see Jack and his friends cheering at a football match, I could see Stellan teasing his sister during dinner with his family. I could see myself graduating from the same high school I had started with - my Mom waving from the crowd. My eyes burned again and I let them slide closed, the pooled anger slowly simmering in the center of my chest.

Perhaps they were, literally, the only people who understood. Elodie understood enough to know to call me an orphan despite having a parent still alive. I heard Jack nervously clear his throat and popped my eyes back open, blurry and burning.

"You're right." I whispered, and watched all three of them let out a collective sigh of relief. "I just don't know how to channel this," I pressed a hand to my throbbing knot of anger in the center of my chest, "into anything productive."

"This is a moment of regrouping," Elodie started slowly. "We have drawn the line, now it's time for everyone to pick sides. We need to convince people we are the winning side."

"There are whispers everywhere but no decision. It would seem that the Saxons have come to the same realization." Jack palmed the back of his neck, "Scarface reports that there has been very little Circle activity at the manor since they returned from Paris."

"We can still pull ahead if we're a little more strategic about our next steps." Elodie started to build steam when I turned to look at her.

"If you three have been doing all this recon without me why haven't you made a choice yet?" I rubbed at my eyes again, the contacts painfully tacky. When I pulled my hands away I saw Stellan staring at me. He held my gaze only for a moment before his eyes slid down my body to rest on my locket. His words washed over me,

'The Circle might not have a single leader, but the closest to it is you. And if we were together, us.'

The Circle needed a leader. Apparently, I was that leader.

"Alright," I rubbed my eyes again and felt a contact flop out and onto the ground somewhere. The boys moved to look for it when I waved them off. "They're ruined anyway. Let me change them and ask Colette to join us in the kitchen if she isn't too busy."

I pulled the other contact out of my eye and tossed it in the trash as Stellan and Elodie left the room. I felt, more than saw, Jack slowly shadow me to the bathroom. I fumbled around with my clear contacts box before spinning around to face him.

"What Jack?"

"I have been thinking." He stopped and passed me my bottle of contact solution. "Now that the Circle know that Stellan is The One…"

He leaned against the bathroom counter, rubbing his hand over his compass tattoo. Through my blurry vision I could see his brow furrow and his jaw tense before he met my eyes. The anger in my chest bubbled at his hesitation and I bit my tongue to stop the retort before nodding for him to continue.

"He is the only one with family left. I'm afraid they might use her as leverage. We need to secure his sister."

"But Stellan told me she was secure. Are you saying you think she's in even more danger after what happened in Paris?" My voice cracked from misuse over the last few days. I busied myself at the sink putting drops in my eyes and blinking away the excess water. Jack quickly closed the door and I looked up startled. He moved closer before mummering,

"Stellan might think she's safe, but unless we have constant eyes on her that means Lydia and Cole might have eyes on her. The safest place for her is with us." He stopped for only a moment - thinking.

"What is it?" I tapped my contacts box impatiently on my arm. "You obviously don't want anyone to hear this." I gestured toward the door.

"I just," he stopped for a moment and with a deep breath looked directly into my blurry eyes, "I might not be as close as I once was with Stellan, but I do know this about him. If it comes down to it - he will always choose his sister. I don't want to put him in a position to have to make that choice."

He didn't have to say what he really meant, it was ringing clear through all his hesitation. But he at least had the decency to look away as I slowly nodded in agreement. If it came down to choosing me or even himself or his sister - Stellan would choose to save his sister. I couldn't blame him, but then everything would be lost. Both of us had to stay alive. We had to eliminate this option from the Saxons.

"Also, Scarface has been attempting to bolster the ranks for us. We'll need to make a trip through London at some point so they can be sworn to you."

I turned to the mirror and quickly placed my contacts in as an idea started to percolate up through all my scattered thoughts.

"Stellan told me he recognized Scarface. He was the Emir's Keeper, the one who was supposed to be dead. He has a," I started and Jack cut over me.

"Olive branch tattoo under his compass tattoo." Jack nodded. "Stellan told me as well."

"What if," I started, dropping the contact box to the counter when there was a knock at the door.

"We're ready," Elodie called from the other side and without another glance at each other we made our way out of the bathroom toward the kitchen.

Colette sat at the head of her kitchen table, Stellan to her right. Elodie moved a giant vase of lilies from the center of the table before taking a seat to Colette's left. Jack settled in next to Elodie and I slowly sank into the other head of the table.

"So," she clasped her hands onto the smooth white tabletop. "What's next?"

I leaned back in my chair for a moment trying to gather my thoughts. I hadn't forced myself to think in so long now. At least it seemed so long that my temples ached from the lack of clarity. Lydia and Cole had a version of the weapon. We didn't know how much, or when they would next strike. But, we did know that they would be attempting to bring Circle families to their line of thinking. That meant that our most important mission was to gather support from the Circle faster than they could.

We had the prophecy on our side. Stellan and I were what was promised now that the 'union' was complete. If Luc's goodwill mission back in Paris was working we at least had the Dauphin's on our side, but that wouldn't be enough. I looked back down at the group and my eyes landed on Colette, large purple bags hung under her eyes almost permanently now.

"Colette and Jack - you're going to America." It fell out of my mouth even before the entire plan had solidified in my brain.

"Pardon?" Colette rose a skeptical eyebrow at me.

"We need more families on our side. If Luc's goodwill mission worked we have the Dauphins. You still have a link to the Fredrick's, it's our in. Plus, if Stellan's observation of Scarface is right it might mean that Xan is actually still alive. We could use some more man power."

Both Colette and Jack opened their mouths to protest but then thought it through and closed them sinking into silence.

"Elodie - you're going to Russia." I said next.

"No." Stellan snapped and turned startled eyes on me.

"Work with Stellan on the location of his sister. We need to get to her before the Saxons do. Bring her back here to us. She needs to stay with us, wherever we move she moves, so she can't be used as leverage." I took a steadying breath and looked directly at Stellan.

His eyes blazed with anger, but deep in them I could see the panic start to rise at the thought of it. The thought of Lydia and Cole getting to her before we could, what they might do to her, torture her to say when she didn't know anything. With a curt nod he broke our gaze and concentrated on the table.

"But what about you?" Elodie asked.

"I'll be fine. I'll stay here with Stellan." I folded my hands and moved to stand before Stellan interrupted.

"I want to go to Russia."

"You can't." I quickly answered.

"Send Elodie with Colette and keep Jack here with you." He countered.

"That won't work Stellan. Everyone should leave tonight." I said it as a dismissal but Stellan leaned forward and everyone else leaned back in anticipation.

"It has to be me, she won't trust anyone else coming to get her."

"Then send something with Elodie that will comfort her, something that she'll know only you could send." I moved to stand again, the group hesitating around me.

"But," he started and I clenched the edge of the table with my hands. It did not go unnoticed.

"No." I barked. "The two of us have targets on the backs of our heads now. We don't know who is working with who yet. The point is to keep both of us alive." Everyone flinched as I finished in a yell. I closed my eyes, trying to settle before finishing. "If something goes sideways in Russia you would protect your sister before yourself. None of this works if you die, Stellan."

Jack started fiddling with his phone and Elodie examined her manicure. Only Colette seemed to be glancing between the two of us. I exhaled and slumped back into my padded chair.

"You three told me to come out here. You told me I needed to lead you. That's my order." I swallowed hard against the swelling worry that was starting to creep back into my body. I didn't like everyone leaving again. Maybe this was a mistake. But the only way to recover the ground we lost was to split up.

"I already have tickets. We leave in twenty Colette." Jack shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"Please tell me it was at least first class." Colette pushed back from the table and stood, they looked at each other and she made a disappointed sound in the back of her throat.

Elodie turned to Stellan and started planning in French. With a few nods they stood and moved back toward his room. I continued to sink further into the padded dining room chair. My bare feet smoothed across the heavy rug under the table as I looked out toward the manicured shrubbery of Colette's private villa. No matter how many times I was ushered into a new location I was still having a hard time adjusting to all the opulence. This padded wingback chair was more comfortable than most of the beds I'd slept in back in America.

Colette was laughing in a back room, chatting quickly in French before I heard a door close. Without warning a duffle bag landed next to me and Jack zipped it up resting his eyes on me.

"You did the right thing Avery."

"Sure I did." I gave him a withering look. "None of you will have to deal with Stellan. He can't even storm off to drink because A," I rose a finger toward him, "someone will attempt to kill him and B," I held up another finger, "if he leaves I'm defenseless."

"It will be fine. We've all had to carry out orders that we weren't thrilled with." He looked toward the back of the house.

"That's just it though." I lowered my voice to a near whisper, "who is in charge here Jack? He has just as much claim as I do, we're the yin and yang of this stupid mandate."

"It will," he stopped, thinking. "Stellan can," he stopped again as we both looked over as Elodie clicked into the kitchen, zipping up a jacket.

"Stellan is a big boy," she shot me a smile. Of course she'd heard, Elodie missed nothing. "He can take it."

I frowned and sunk deeper into the padding of the chair. Colette emerged wearing a baseball hat and zip up hoodie. She slung a small overnight bag over her shoulder,

"Luc might drop by. He said he had some updates. I didn't tell him what we were all doing."

"It should take me a day to get to Anya in Russia, and probably two to get back." Elodie checked some pockets and then straightened.

"Likewise, we shouldn't be in DC for longer than a day. We'll have our answer pretty quickly and I already have a contact set up over there to go with the Keeper theory." Jack slung his bag over his shoulder. "Ready?" He looked at Colette.

"Au Revoir!" Colette pushed giant sunglasses onto her face and then waved to Stellan. He had silently snuck up on us and was standing at the kitchen counter. He thinly smiled and the three took off. Once the door shut we looked at each other for a moment, mirthlessly. Then without a single word we both went back to our own rooms.

After I'd watched the news anchors change for the fourth time I turned the TV off. It was always the same projection of what the past two weeks of terrorism could mean. It was midnight now and despite the near constant indigestion from my anger I realized I was hungry. Stellan was still nowhere to be seen. I thought for sure I would have heard him ambling through the house at some point during the day but I hadn't. Perhaps he was like me - anxiously waiting. Only his waiting would be rewarded with something I would never have again. The thought caused a flash of bile at the back of my throat that pushed me to my feet.

I was fumbling through the fridge when I finally heard a door close. With a quick peek around the fridge door I saw him stretch above his head and come to stand behind me. I settled on some leftover pasta. Despite grabbing it with purpose Stellan didn't move, forcing me to duck around him toward the microwave.

As I sat down at the table, in my same spot from earlier in the day, he tossed his makeshift sandwich at the table. It flopped around coming a bit undone before he settled on the seat to my right. Without even looking at me he adjusted it and started to eat.

"I thought you'd eat in your room." I casually threw out, anything to break up the silence.

"The camera's aren't as well positioned in the kitchen." He pointed to an almost invisible globe in the corner of the ceiling. "It's easier to babysit you in person."

"Babysit," I retorted and then looked over at him. "You've been spying on me all day?"

"It's not spying when I've been ordered to do it." He answered and shoved another bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

"I didn't order," I started and then just stopped. I hadn't ordered him to, but he was still going to punish me anyway. Engaging in this would only make me explode with anger which wasn't fair to either of us. We should be a team about this, we were a good team, but something had changed since the Paris Fashion Show. I couldn't figure it out and I had been so preoccupied with my vengeance that I'd missed all the little moments that could have clued me in to what it was.

I'd lost my appetite. I looked at the half eaten bowl of pasta and pushed it away. Stellan was finishing off the last of his sandwich and rose an eyebrow at me.

"Good night." I mumbled and grabbed my bowl. As I rinsed it out he cleaned up his own makeshift dinner. We both turned to go in opposite directions and he took a breath, as if deciding something, before murmuring to me across the silent hallway,

"Just because it was the right choice doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I'm sorry, Stellan." I murmured back.

"There is nothing to be sorry about kuklachka." He replied and slunk around a corner back to his room.

I felt it then, battling against the pooling anger and swirling anxiety within me - the nervous fluttering in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't felt that between us since...Cannes? I couldn't remember now so much had happened. I tugged on a pink highlight, contemplating, and then shuffled toward my room.

I shut the door and scanned the walls and the ceiling before I finally spotted the small white bump in the far corner of the room. It was perfectly placed, you'd be able to see everyone coming in and out of the bedroom door, you could see the bed, you could see the bathroom entry, even the window. I moved to stand right under it and stared at it for a long minute knowing that Stellan was watching me. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was already asleep, or catching up on all his favorite television shows. That thought made me internally laugh and I turned from it with a small smile.

Stellan watching TV shows. What would he even watch? Something ridiculously French probably. My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I grabbed it to see a single word,

Yes?

I texted him back:

Babysitting usually entails direct involvement. This is just voyeurism.

It pinged back instantly:

It's only voyeurism if it arouses me.

I was glad my back was to the camera now because I could feel the flush forming across my cheeks. I stared at the phone for a long moment unable to think of any come back. I marveled again at how often Stellan was able to render me speechless. The idea of him watching me took me right back to that night in this same house. His room, his clothes coming off, tasting like vodka and limes. My face flushed further and I texted back:

I thought you'd be into that.

There wasn't even time to breathe before my phone buzzed in my hands:

Oh, kuklachka, you have no idea what I'm into.

I looked to the side and laughed, then shook my head and moved to the bathroom. It had now been three days since I'd taken a shower and if my current insomnia was planning to make a re-appearance tonight I'd need to find some way to fill the hours. I set the phone down on the bathroom counter and turned on the rain shower, the pipes creaking in the wall before it started to steam.

"Want some company?" Came from the doorjamb and I jumped at least a foot in the air and spun around.

"Jesus Stellan!" I screeched at him, clutching a hand to my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't see you when you are in the bathroom." He sat on the bathroom counter.

"I appreciate the stellar service, but I think I can manage a shower without someone murdering me." I pulled a towel out from the cabinet and hung it next to the shower. When he didn't move I turned to face him and glared.

"History would dictate no," he leveled a challenging look at me. "I take my orders seriously."

I didn't take the bait and turned away from him removing my locket from my neck and setting it on the counter.

"Then I absolve you of your Keeper duties when I'm taking a shower. I'm not a toddler." I quipped. But I didn't hear him move. "Leave."

He slid off the counter and closed the door behind him and I took a big breath. The close proximity in this small bathroom had flooded me with the memory of how his lips had felt on my neck as I'd gasped for air, squirming on his lap. My body started to tingle from the sense memory but I just undressed and got into the shower.

At 2AM I was watching bizarre european music videos wondering if it was all a fever dream when my phone buzzed again:

Can you even enjoy these music videos when you don't understand the language?

I looked at the small white bump in the corner of the room and rose an eyebrow. I texted back:

How could you tell that's what I'm watching?

I shifted on the bed, pulling my tank top back down from my exposed midriff. My phone buzzed:

I have to find some way to stay awake. Do you ever sleep anymore?

I sighed and just shrugged. A new video came on the screen, full of lasers and metallic boxes - it made absolutely no sense. A dark form filled my door jamb and Stellan seemed to drag himself through the room.

"Move over," he grumbled and I shifted slightly as he landed hard on the opposite side of the bed. "If you insist on staying awake you can wake me up if you hear anything."

"Is that what they teach you in Keeper school? Have Family warn you if something is wrong?" I joked and scrunched my face in confusion at the music video again.

"They teach us how many 5 Hour Energy's you can drink before your heart explodes." He replied and settled onto his side. The bubble of laughter escaped my chest and I looked over at him to see if he was being serious. He was.

"One day you'll have to tell me all your Keeper secrets." I settled back down into the pillows as another music video started up. We both tilted our heads to the right as the whole picture itself made a slow clockwise rotation on the screen.

"The first rule about being a Keeper is," his voice rumbled in his chest as he said it and paused looking at me.

"Don't talk about being a Keeper," I deadpanned and a ghost of a smile twitched on his mouth.

"Family, then Circle, then self." He replied. "And if you're going to sleep with a Family member - you better not get caught."

Another bubble of laughter rolled out from my chest to fill the quiet room and we both tilted our heads to the left as the music video shifted to a counter clockwise rotation.

"You're tired, kuklachka. You're getting punchy." Stellan smoothed the blankets right next to him and gave them a little pat.

"I'm always so exhausted I don't even know what tired feels like anymore." I yawned ignoring his invitation. My exhausted body told me to roll up against him, settle down and give in to oblivion. But the simmering vengeance in my chest whispered I could stay awake forever if I thought of ways I could beat Lydia and Cole to the tomb. I stuck in my spot as the TV channel sputtered to nothing but fuzz.

The static sound filled the room, like a white noise machine, and Stellan rolled toward me. He shifted until he was close enough that I felt his body heat along every inch of the left side of my body. The simmering vengeance sputtered and then cooled and I let myself relax just enough that our bodies touched. The sound of Stellan's breathing mixed with the white noise of the TV and my eyes slid shut for the first time in days.

I stretched languishly in bed, shifting my hips and back until they cracked and rolled right into something very solid. Stellan threw an arm over my hip, my backside spooning against his lap, and murmured something into my hair in Russian. The room suddenly seemed far too bright, the sun high above the house now, the TV was muted and rolling some kind of talk show. I attempted to move out of his grasp but his palm just smoothed further across my pelvis until his fingers brushed against the other hip. He shifted as well and I felt something hard press against the small of my back as another whisper of Russian fell into my hair. I was 90% sure what that was and I was 100% sure I wasn't ready to deal with that right now. Either because it was unintentional and would make things even more awkward between us. Or because it was completely intentional and if we stopped again in the heat of the moment I would literally die from embarrassment.

My stomach shuttered in anticipation, as Stellan shifted next to me. Was this really about to happen? Actually...finally...happen? I was torn between knowing I shouldn't do this, I should concentrate on everything we still needed to accomplish and giving in to the building throb between my legs. He might not even know he was doing this, he was still asleep, right? I held my breath, unsure if I should just jump out of the bed and then I felt his lips. The first line of kisses brushed across my shoulder toward my neck and the breath I'd been holding came out with a whoosh. His fingers snaked up under my tank top, his palm flat across my stomach as he dropped some more kisses onto the juncture of my shoulder and neck. It felt like all the blood in my body rushed toward where his hand was burning into my skin. His fingers inched slowly up my stomach and he whispered in my ear,

"Dites-moi d'arrêter."

He shifted, his hips and hardness pressed against me with the movement, and I felt my pulse hammering through my body with every pump of my rapidly beating heart.

"What?" I whispered trying to steady my breath. I felt my lower back, under its own will, arch further into him. Stellan let out a small groan that sent a wave of goosebumps across my arms and planted a harder kiss on my shoulder.

"Skazhi mne ostanovit'sya." He tried again in Russian his fingers brushing over ribs on their way north. A slow burn was licking out from somewhere above my pelvic bone across my body. I leaned into him, his hips shifted toward me, his hardness throbbed and we both took a shaky breath before melted back into each other again. His lips moved up my neck toward my ear and I felt my entire body flush with heat.

"English," I panted. "English."

His fingers reached the ribs just below my bra-less breasts. He ran a firm thumb across the rib, the back of his hand lightly brushing the bottom of my breasts and I let out a small pleading sound in the back of my throat as the licking fire burnt out any other lingering emotions in my chest.

"Tell me to stop." He whispered, his fingers froze on my chest - waiting. I was worried anything I said, even not to stop, was going to come out pathetically needy so I bit my lip and pressed harder into his length in response. "Avery," he growled and a wave of shivers raced down my spine.

With a move as swift as a jit-su flip I was suddenly on my back and Stellan was on top of me his head near the waistband of my pajama bottoms. His fingers dove under my shirt again, but this time they pushed the fabric up toward my breasts as he left a trail of kisses on his way toward my face. I couldn't help but squirm underneath him and then my hips rose against him and I looked up toward the ceiling sucking in a lungfull of air. His lips left the lightest kiss on the underside of my breast and I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his face up to mine.

Our lips crashed into each other's, his weight fell onto me, pinning me to the bed. In between gasping breaths and frantically kissing I dropped my hands from his hair and started to pull his shirt off his back. With one swift movement he ripped it off and threw it at the wall, our stomachs now touching each other, and I knew I needed to take my tank top off - immediately.

I rose up against him and with a push to his left shoulder we rolled. Now he was flat on his back and I quickly straddled his lap, my pajama bottoms pulled tight against me as I settled down onto his hardness. We both let out small noises as his eyes widened and the gold flecks sparked against the blue. I tucked some hair behind my ear and he sat up his hands running up my bare back as I lifted my arms above my head. His eyes never left mine as he pushed the fabric up, we paused just gasping breath and throbbing bodies and then he threw the shirt aside. I felt him throb against the thin fabric of my pants and felt a surge of heady power wash over me.

Stellan would do anything I asked in that moment, his face vulnerable and feral at the same time. If his heavy breathing was any indication he was just as wound up as I was. Yet he was waiting, always waiting for me. The sense of power washed over me again and I knew, in that moment, that this was happening. We were going to happen. Not harmless flirting - this was the tipping point. He had been keeping a safe distance from me in this way since that night in Cannes for a very specific reason. I would unravel him if we touched like that again. All his tightly wound secrets, his carefully buried emotions, his trust - they would thread apart if I touched him one more time. So I did.

I pressed my breasts against his bare chest, his breath caught and then he pulled me against him and we fell back onto the bed. Pillows started spilling onto the ground, sheets were being kicked and pushed around by our feet. His lips were all over my face and then my lips. Deeper and deeper the kisses grew until I could taste him and he was pulling at the waistband of my pajama bottoms. My hands ran up onto his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck and he let out a hiss. I dropped my hands starting to pull away but he just expertly flipped me over so I was on my back again.

"Your scars," I panted as his mouth made quick work toward my breasts. "I didn't mean to," I started to say and then his mouth made contact with my nipple and the thought flew out of my mind to be lost forever. The burning throb in between my legs let out a pulse so strong a low moan escaped my mouth and I arched toward him. One hand came up under my back holding me there, his tongue teasing my left before moving to the right breast. My whole body was starting to build toward combustion with this frantic need for release I had never felt before. I could barely stand it. His hair tickling my collarbone, his mouth and hands expertly working me over, his own desire hard against my inner thigh. It built and built until I started begging him for something I couldn't even comprehend,

"Please, please Stellan."

One of his hands moved down to between my legs and over my pajama pants he pressed his fingers firmly onto the part of me that was almost too sensitive to be touched and moved them in quick circles the same moment his mouth found mine again. Blood roared into my ears, I bit down onto his lip and a small, strangled cry broke free from my throat as my world went white.

There were whispers in French as I started to fade back into existence, drunk on endorphins and buzzing with bliss. When I could start to make out the corners of the room from my blind eyes I sucked in the most delicious breath. It filled my lungs so deeply that my chest actually lifted Stellan a bit and he buried his head in my neck murmuring my name over and over again in his thick Russian accent. I trailed a hand slowly up his backbone eliciting a buck from his hips against the still tingling place between my legs. We both let out a gasp that quickly turned into a moan. I was caught somewhere between that white place of my orgasm and needing to fall into a deep, relaxing sleep. But I could hear it in his voice, feel it in the tension of his shoulder - the desperation.

"What can I do?" I whispered into his ear and he cursed into my shoulder and bit down hard. I sucked in a startled breath between my teeth, he pressed his length against my pajamas, and then quickly released my shoulder and blindly started slapping around the nightstand until he landed on the tissue box. He shakily grabbed a fistful and then re-adjusted himself. He teetered on top of me now one hand between both our legs, he leaned hard into his propped up arm and I felt his tongue lick around where he'd bit me before I felt his teeth again. My stroking hands quickly turned into claws and I raked them up his back as he tensed above me. Without meaning to do so my nails raked over his scars, he cursed, released me, and then convulsed all at once before collapsing next to me, our legs still tangled, his mouth leaving kiss after kiss on my injured shoulder.

"Lyubov' moya," he said and kissed my shoulder again. He kept repeating it over and over again until it petered out and I could hear his hitched breath smooth out into someone who was sleeping. I settled back into the pillows not even minding all the weight still on top of me and closed my eyes when I heard the knock from the front door.

"Bonjour? Êtes-vous ici?"

It was Luc Dauphin. I surveyed the room. Pillows were everywhere, tissues littered across the floor, I couldn't find our shirts, the sheets were twisted and messy - this wasn't good.

"Stellan," I whispered. He groaned. "Stellan." I tried to sound a little more urgent.

"Stellan? Avery?" Luc called out, sounding much closer now. Stellan jerked and then quickly rolled off me and dashed for the bathroom.

"Hey!" I hissed at him and pulled the sheets up over my naked chest. He grinned and tossed me his shirt off the floor. I pulled it over my head and quickly jumped out of the bed - big mistake. My legs tried to give out, still shaking from the aftermath, and I stumbled and landed against the wall when Luc turned the corner. The bathroom door slammed shut and Luc jumped and then pressed his lips together his eyebrows rising on his face.

"Did I wake you Avery? I assumed you'd be done with lunch by now." Luc smiled at me, it was full of mischief and dread filled my gut.

"I was just," I trailed off and attempted to stand again, fumbled, and parroted back like an idiot, "Finishing up my lunch."

"Was it Stellan flavored?" Luc smirked his eyes shining.

I felt myself go scarlett and my mouth dropped open unable to speak. From inside the bathroom Stellan yelled out,

"Quelle belle joue, Luc!"

"Elle le rend trop facile!" Luc pouted and leaned against the doorjamb. Stellan appeared a moment later, flushed, his lower lip slightly swollen and he gave Luc a challenging stare.

"Il est injuste du faire en français." Stellan entoned.

"Oh I agree," Luc smirked and looked the two of us over again for a moment. Stellan turned toward me moving to the bed when Luc's eyes went wide and he seemed unable to help himself, "Elle est une peu sauvage?"

Stellan turned to face Luc again and positioned right in front of me. That line translated pretty easily when I saw Stellan's back. Scratches. Long fingernail scratches all up his back, over his tattoo, over his scars. I clamped my hand at my side so I wouldn't reach out to touch them and felt my shoulder pinch. My hand instinctively went to the soreness and lifted the shirt sleeve of Stellan's baggy shirt to reveal the forming bruises on my shoulder.

Luc clapped and then threw his hands at the ceiling as if this was all a gift from the gods to him. "Perhaps you are perfect little savages for each other."

I quickly dropped my shirt sleeve and crossed my arms over my chest. "Didn't you have an update you needed to give us?"

"But this is so much more fun," Luc teased. Stellan pointed to the living room and we all moved out toward it.

A/N - Special thanks going out to the always helpful and awesome maidenpride. So glad we've progressed to new obsessions together. To Laura - my French translator! You went above and beyond the call of translation duty! Merci!

Chapter Soundtrack:

Chains - Nick Jonas

Pillowtalk - Zayn