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I tried to picture it—a vivacious woman on a ruthless high-blood chain.
“But she was younger. Stronger. They chose to use her body.” A look of torment crossed his face. “I had to see her walking toward me, smiling. But it was not her. Only a small part of her was left. And it could not get out. Not until …”
“Until?”
A long stretch of silence. I listened to the waves crash on the beach.
“She wanted to die,” he said finally. “I knew that. I ignored it for as long as I could. Finally I could ignore it no longer.”
“You set her free.”
“I killed her. I wanted to kill the highbloods who had done it to her. I managed to do both.”
“You did the right thing.”
“Did I?” He released my chin and looked away. “I will never know.”
“You did,” I said softly. I stepped closer to him. Put my hands against his chest. They looked so small there. “I would have wanted the same, Nyxaris. You set her free.”
“The world is so cruel, Fireheart,” he said wearily. “And the cruelty never seems to end.”
“Yet there is good in the world. I have to believe that. There is still some beauty and kindness.”
“Is there?” He didn’t look convinced.
“Yes. Because you’re here, aren’t you? And you …” My throat threatened to close up. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And the marvel is … You seem to want me, too.”
His head whipped toward me. “Me, want you? Me, beautiful? Then what are you?” He seized my shoulders. “What are you, Fireheart? You are not of this world. This world does not deserve a woman like you in it. So pure of heart, noble of soul, and your form …” He stopped. When he resumed, his voice was husky. “Want doesn’t begin to describe what I feel. I yearn. I have yearned for you from the moment I saw you lying in the courtyard, bleeding. But I was a coward. I feared losing you all over again—like Christina. And so I made your friend beg me to save you. I made her beg me for your life.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “But … I understand.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You didn’t want to lose another rider.” I touched his cheek. “You had spent so many years alone.”
“Yes. But it is no excuse for how cruelly and coldly I behaved.”
“Then, be warm with me now.” I pressed my breasts against his chest and lifted my face to his. “Take me now. I give you my blood and my body freely.”
A choked sound came from his mouth. “You don’t know what you offer.”
“I do,” I said stubbornly. “Trust me the way I trust you. I’m not afraid of you. You can’t keep punishing yourself for the past. Live with me here, now.” Tears were in my eyes again. “Or else what is the point of all this, Nyxaris? Tell me that. What is the point if we can’t be together the way you know we’re supposed to be?”
I felt his body tremble.
“You smell too sweet,” he whispered finally. “And you are standing far too close.”
“Would you like me to go back to my room?”
For a moment, he didn’t move. He held as still as the statue he used to be. Then his hand came up, hovering at my waist—not quite touching. I pressed it to my hips. The moment his fingers closed there, I felt something in him snap into place. He pulled me closer, his wings tightening around us, sealing us into his shadows.
His breath ghosted along my neck. “If I start … Tell me to stop now, Florence. For if I start …”
“I won’t ask you to stop,” I swore.
He groaned, deep and low in his throat, and the sound vibrated straight through me. His mouth brushed my skin—not biting, not yet. But it was enough for my knees to tremble.
“You are undoing me,” he murmured.