Page 21 of Secrets of Ruin

“Brokk,” she whispered as she stepped toward him.

“Don’t,” he growled. “I can’t control myself around you.”

And he wasn’t about to rip off her head, although that might be better than what he would do to her.

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to.”

Her voice was far stronger and more confident than it should be for someone approaching the man who could kill them. “Kaylia⁠—”

“You won’t hurt me, and you certainly won’t kill me. I know it.”

She may know it, but he was far less certain as he drank in the miracle of her while she glided closer. She was offering herself to him, but he didn’t think she fully grasped the possibility that it could be as a sacrifice.

The ophidians had continued to taunt him with nymphs while watching him grow weaker; he suspected the emperor was planning this all along. It would be far more fun to watch him destroy Kaylia.

“Not in here,” he said. “Not like this.”

“Then where? This could be our last chance, and I want it. I don’t care about them; this is about us.”

“No.” If he touched her now, it would be ugly. “No.”

Before she could get any closer, Brokk finally found the strength to move. He threw himself to the side and into the bars there. The second he connected with them, they launched him backward.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When Brokk hit the ground and crumpled into a heap, Kaylia’s heart sank, but she wasn’t astonished by what he’d done. He was trying to protect her, but she didn’t require it from him.

Without hesitation, she strode closer and knelt before him as anticipation sizzled throughout her. He wasn’t the only one who was hungry.

She wasn’t starved in the same way as him, but she craved feeling his touch again… one last time. He wouldn’t be the one to kill her—she was convinced of that—but she could feel their time here coming to an end.

The emperor would soon call for their demise, and she had to know the joy of him again before that time came. Their joining would be rougher than before, desperate, and he’d probably take more than he normally did from her, but she’d walk away from it.

He didn’t have faith he’d stop himself before it went too far; she did.

She tenderly caressed his cheek as his head rolled to the side; his red eyes briefly met hers before his lids closed again. Her fingers rested against the white starburst scar over his heart from where a dark fae ran him through with a sword.

Most dark fae would have succumbed to such a blow, but not him. Other scars crisscrossed his chest from the beatings he’d sustained while here. They weren’t as numerous as Ryker’s, as the ophidians had shifted their attention to tormenting Brokk with women.

She couldn’t see them, but on his back, he also bore the marks of the spikes. His ciphers remained a dull gray as they swirled over his flesh; after this, she hoped some of their vibrant color returned to them.

“Don’t do that again,” she told him.

He didn’t respond; he was probably still too dazed by the bars to form words. She was playing with fire and hoping to get burned as she rested her hand against his cheek and kissed him.

The kiss was familiar and strange all at once. She easily recalled the warmth of his lips, the way it sent tingles through her, and his fresh-rain-and-man aroma, but the last time they kissed, he didn’t have a beard that tickled her cheeks and chin.

The way his kiss made her body come alive was a welcome reprieve from this abysmal place. She broke the kiss to plant more on his forehead, cheeks, and neck as her fingers found his chest and roved over the changed contours of his body.

He was far thinner but still so powerful as her fingers explored the etched muscle of his physique. Every part of her became focused on him as excitement raced through her.

She was finally able to feel so much of him again. She’d dreamt about what it would be like for them outside of here, but she’d always awoken to the nightmare and her inability to do anything more than hold his hand.

But this wasn’t a dream; it was a reality she’d plunged herself into. She forgot all about those watching them while she continued to explore him.

She loved him so much that nothing else mattered, and no one else existed outside them. When she stroked his erection, he found the strength to grasp her wrist, halting her movements.

Leaning back, she met the vibrant red of his eyes as he gazed at her with longing and distress. “Kaylia⁠—”