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His hands squeeze mine so tight that I lose feeling. “She would leave the box with my summoning stone just out of reach, then loosen the chain enough to make me think I had a chance and watch while I tortured myself in my desperation to escape.”
My heart squeezes painfully. We had left him to suffer that, thinking he was dead. If only we’d looked sooner, he could have been spared.
As if he hears my thoughts, his gaze meets mine. “Your sire came to me once. He was trying to bargain my contract away from Lord Talkis. He told me you all thought I was dead, so I never expected you to come for me.”
Tears burn my eyes for the depth of his suffering. “We did come, the second we found out you were alive.”
“So you did. And threatened the High Council in order to set me free.” Darius gives a wry smile. “And you and Marceau were even planning a memorial for me.”
Sensing his need to change the subject, I force a smile past the tightness in my throat. “Yes, well, you deserved a proper goodbye.”
He chuckles softly, the warm sound stroking over me like the brush of flame. “How would you have memorialized me?”
I lean my head back against the wall behind me. “I don’t know. Maybe built a big statue?”
He leans in closer. “I’ve never had a statue before.”
My pulse quickens. “Marc would have cussed a lot about what a pain in the ass you were.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Darius’s eyes soften as he gazes at me. “And you?”
I lick my lips. “It probably would have been something about how you were a skilled hunter and kept your word.”
“Merri,” he chastises softly. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “What words would you have given me?”
My walls crumble, and I melt into the heat of his eyes. “That I held on to grudges for too long, and that I should have forgiven you sooner. That you gave mercy in the only way possible. And that you are too honorable for a demon.”
He leans down, his lips a hair’s breadth from mine. “I could be less honorable for you, Merri.”
The warmth of his body sinks into me, melting away my resistance, and I lean forward that last breath. His lips burn against mine, fever hot with centuries of pent-up desires.
He lets me lead for only a heartbeat before his head tilts, his mouth slanting over mine, and his tongue pushes past my lips, greedy for more.
I clutch his shoulders, rising onto my toes so our bodies slot together like puzzle pieces separated by time and finally finding their way home.
A hungry growl rises from his throat, and he presses harder against me, shoving me back against the wall.
His hands drop to my waist, lifting me that last inch to bring our bodies into alignment, and the hard proof of his desire presses against me. He groans and rocks his hips against mine, as if unable to restrain himself a second longer, now that he has my approval.
An answering desperation fills me, and I hook a leg around his waist, needing to feel this man against me. This body, a distant memory, yet so familiar and now real once more. This mouth that tastes of fire and promises to burn.
As if summoned, flames rise from his depths and sweep past his lips to pour down my throat, feeding that well of endless hunger inside me that craves to destroy, to unmake the world and give it new life.
With a gasp, he pulls back, his breaths coming fast as he presses his forehead against mine. “If we continue, we will burn.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting his mouth back on mine. “It is inevitable.”
With a groan, he lifts his head and presses a kiss on my forehead. “I’m not ready to give up this life just yet. I promised to save you.”
“There’s that pesky honor again,” I grumble in thwarted desire.
“It was inevitable,” he teases, though strain fills his voice.
With a moment to cool my head, I realize he’s right, and as much as my body desires him, in a pit of bones with an unknown monster lurking nearby, now is not the time for such things. I drop my leg back to the ground and release my hold on him.
I smooth back my hair as I will my pulse to slow. “Okay, what’s our new plan?”
His lips part before his head moves up and to the side. “Marceau.”
