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They couldn’t touch me. I was here with my mate, and he would protect me.
Odhran had one hand still covering my cheek, the other one curling gently around the side of my throat. His brows were pulled down low, his nostrils flared, and his jaw was clenched tightly.
“Larkin, lass…” His voice was thick and filled with pain. “Ye… Ye fear me?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, leaning forward and resting my forehead on the center of his chest. For long moments, I said nothing, just stayed in that position as he cupped the back of my head and held me.
My memories and fear tried to pull me under, to take me back to that dark, dirty, and ugly place. It tried to keep me in hell.
“It’s not you I’m afraid of,” I whispered and clutched at his shirt, feeling tears well in my eyes. For a frightening moment, I was sure I was broken, that although only a few days had passed since we escaped, no amount of time could ever heal the kind of damage that ran the entirety of my soul.
He didn’t respond and didn’t make me say anything else. He gently wrapped his arms around my body and continued to hold me. We stood like that for long moments until finally I pulled back and looked up at his face, showing all the vulnerability and all the fear I felt. Because I wouldn’t hide it. I wouldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, least of all from Odhran.
The smile he gave me was soft, gentle, and when he gestured for me to go over to the bed, I didn’t say anything and obeyed.
We both sat on the mattress, and he proceeded to feed me from his hand, the silence and his strong presence a welcome companion.
I hoped that fate wasn’t so cruel that it would give me Odhran only to keep this wall between us so we’d never find peace.
Surely we deserved to be happy after all this time.
13
Larkin
The storm was raging outside, angry and loud, letting the world know it was powerful and strong and all-consuming.
The power had flickered on and off for half an hour before we were finally plunged into darkness. And now I sat on the couch in the living room, the fire Odhran had started roaring in the hearth, my focus on a book I found on the shelf.
But I wasn’t paying attention to the words, my eyes skimming over the sentences without taking anything in. I kept thinking back to how I reacted when he held me, when he kissed my neck and desire had licked through me so fast and hard, I never wanted it to end.
I looked away from the fire and stared at my mate. He leaned back in the leather chair, a glass of whiskey balanced on the armrest, his fingers curled around it. His focus was on me, and the shadows played across his face, flickers of light making the masculine angles seem sharper.
He gave me a small smile, and I wondered if he was thinking the same things I was. Because even if I panicked earlier, it felt good, and I hadn’t wanted it to end, even if my mind had done that job for me.
“How are ye feeling, lass?”
I licked my lips and didn’t miss how his gaze dropped to my mouth or how his pupils dilated.
“I’m okay.” I have to be.
I could see the worry on his face and knew no amount of me telling him it wasn’t him who made me react the way I had earlier, but me, would alleviate any kind of worry he had.
I kept thinking over and over that something was terribly wrong with me, something so broken that it could never be repaired, could never be put back together.
I’m stronger than this. I’m stronger than my horrors.
I set the book down and slowly rose. The shirt I wore was Odhran’s and hung to my knees, and I wore a pair of thick wool socks that were pulled up so they got swallowed by the hem of the shirt.
Although he’d gotten me a few pieces of clothing from a small boutique in town, I found myself still wearing his shirts and socks. It made me feel closer to him.
As I walked toward him, any lingering twinges of pain from the wound at my side faded to the background. I watched as his fingers tightened around the glass, saw his throat move as he swallowed. I felt this unwavering heavy weight of sadness fill me suddenly.
When I stopped in front of him, he tipped his head back and stared at me, his eyes hooded, the fumes of the whiskey he drank mixing with the dark and wild scent that clung to him. My belly fluttered, and desire made its way through me once more.
I wanted him.
“Larkin?” His voice was a husky rumble.
