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“I should leave.” He did no such thing.
Arianna whispered, “Why?” She felt his jaw clench and the silence stretched, neither daring to move. “Talk to me,” she urged.
He let out another breath, bathing her in his scent. “I thought, after everything that just happened, you’d be afraid of me.” She should be. After seeing flesh ripped from bone and the sheer number of bodies lying lifeless on the ground. After hearing the fierce roar that had chilled her blood and left her shaken. She should’ve been too afraid to return. She should be trembling even now, her instincts begging her to run back to Eoghan and home. But—
“I’m not.” Rion lifted his head slightly. “You came for me. I’m grateful.” Because she wouldn’t have known what to do if he hadn’t. Eoghan wanted to free her, sure, but his brethren didn’t feel the same and if Rion hadn’t shown up, she would have proven useless.
He took in a breath as if about to speak and let it out again. Arianna felt his body tense. He shifted but remained silent.
“Tell me.”
His lips grazed her shoulder and Arianna’s body ignited. “I should leave because I want to touch you, kiss you, hold you—” He cut himself short.
Her throat had gone dry. “But you’re afraid I’ll want to do the same.”
He pressed his forehead back onto her shoulder and whispered, “Yes.” Arianna carefully turned to look at him and Rion pulled away to meet her gaze.
He looked so unsure of himself, so at odds with the male she’d seen on the battlefield.
“When I scented your blood, I knew exactly why they’d taken you. Finding you alive was the last thing I expected. I hate that they hurt you. I hate knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it. In the aftermath of that hatred—” He cut himself off again.
“Kiss me.” She said it before she could stop herself and Rion’s breath hitched. His eyes flashed to her lips and back again and a thrill of excitement shot through her body when he leaned forward, those emerald eyes never leaving hers.
Their lips met and Rion’s hand laced through the back of her hair to pull her closer. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, moving his lips against hers in silent desperation. Arianna met the movements with equal fervor, relishing in the taste and feel of him.
It was needful, passionate and she couldn’t help but deepen that kiss just a little more. Rion pulled away breathless and pressed his forehead to hers. They sat in that stillness, listening to one another’s ragged breaths. She wanted so much more, but how when Rion’s fear blocked their path?
“What if I make you a promise? Just for tonight.” He pulled back with a questioning gaze. “You can kiss me, hold me, and I promise not to touch you.” His eyes searched hers though she couldn’t discern what he looked for. Trickery? Fear? He caressed her cheek and Arianna leaned into his calloused touch, relishing in the warmth of his palm.
Rion pulled away and her heart leapt in despair at the suddenness of his action. Then she saw what’d grabbed his attention. The blood and gore covering their clothes.
“We should clean up first.” She didn’t disagree, but the way her body was shaking told Arianna she wasn’t ready to stand just yet.
“I need to rest for a minute.” Rion stood but bent to press another kiss to her forehead before closing himself in the bathroom.
I want to touch you, kiss you, hold you.
Her entire body flushed, yet exhaustion also threatened to drag her into its comforting depths. He cared for her. She’d suspected it before but knew it now. He’d grieved thinking her lost and, in his grief, a rage had risen to consume him. The Demon’s twisted face flashed in her mind’s eye and Arianna wondered, not for the first time, if Rion could lose himself completely to the bestial part of himself. Perhaps he almost had this time.
Though her body ached, Arianna forced herself to stand and slowly make her way around the bed, tugging off the sheet. The blood from her wound had soaked through to the mattress, but there wasn’t much she could do about it in her current state. Her side tugged and she winced, grabbing the wall.
Arianna honestly wasn’t sure if her body trembled from the battle’s aftermath or from Rion’s admissions or from the sins she’d committed.
He wanted her. He cared for her.
She’d killed. Arianna tried to shake away the feeling but it ate at her, digging into her soul.
How many?
Rion finished quickly, emerging from the bathroom wearing those same black pants he always did. Her gaze roamed over his bare torso and back as he refilled the washbowl and returned it to the bathroom.
Arianna bit the inside of her cheek, trying to reign in her thoughts. She focused on the cuts and scrapes all over his body instead. Nothing looked serious but—
“You’re hurt.”
Rion eyed one of the marks on his shoulder. “I’ll survive.”
She couldn’t have healed them even if she wanted to. She didn’t have the energy for it and maybe that was part of the reason Rion was agreeing to her promise. But wasn’t he exhausted too? One wouldn’t know by looking at him.
