Текст книги "Destroyed"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The tension in the car throbbed and my skin was hyper-sensitive for his touch. After staring death in the face, I needed reminding of life. I needed to believe that Clue was right and there was such a thing as reincarnation or a better life. I needed Fox to remind me that I couldn’t give up.

Fox slowed for a traffic light. His hand disappeared into his pocket and pulled out Clara’s star necklace.

I sucked in a huge breath. The tinkling pieces of my heart rattled in my chest as he reverently clasped it around his neck. He stroked the silver, a look of love and misery on his face.

I looked away, unable to bear the sharp arrows of sadness piercing my soul. The pain of her death was shared—by a man who’d known her for such a little time. A man I still didn’t really know.

The light turned green and Fox sighed heavily. Throwing the car into gear, we zoomed down roads and through suburbs I didn’t recognise.

Kilometre after kilometre, we remained in silence. Either too wrapped up in Clara to risk speaking or figuring out if our argument had cleared the air enough to start anew.

He looked so odd, so fierce, wearing a simple silver star. Up till now, the only adornment he wore were his scars and tattoos, but I knew in my heart he would never take it off. Every time I looked at him wearing it, I would remember her. Just as it should be.

“Where did you go?” I asked as we travelled down roads and through city mania.

He glanced at me, his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. “I went to deal with something.”

A chill sent goosebumps down my back. “You were in another fight.”

“What makes you say that?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t explain the change in him when he fought—the ease, or relief from whatever demons he suffered. Yet, this time, he seemed lighter—more grounded than I’d ever seen him. “You seem different.” He was…softer. His grey-white eyes weren’t as haunted, as if he’d decided finally to put his past behind him.

“Do you know why I fight? Can you understand the need to find an outlet from internal pain?” He looked over quickly before focusing again on the road.

“Yes. I can understand that.”

“Can you understand when I say fighting to me is a medicine? But it’s the pain that’s my salvation. I self-harm because I haven’t found any other way to free the darkness inside.”

He reached across and stole my right hand, squeezing hard. “I’ve self-harmed for a very long time. I hate it. It fills me with shame, but as much as I want to stop, I can’t. I can’t promise I’ll be able to give it up entirely, but from now on, I’m going to try and find some other way.”

He smiled. “Clara helped with that, too.”

“How?” I barely whispered, too captivated by learning more behind his mask.

“Because her death has given me an unlimited supply of pain. I only need to think of her, and the urge to self-mutilate disappears.”

I didn’t know how to reply. I hated the thought of him using Clara’s memory to avoid hurting himself. Was he tainting her memory by using it for selfish reasons? But then again, I was pleased she continued to help beyond the grave.

“Don’t fight. He needs you.”

Clara’s lyrical voice came and went. I asked, “You didn’t just go to fight, though. Did you?” There was a difference in him. A tightness and barely found tranquillity.

“No. I went to see someone. To say goodbye to a past I never wished I lived.” Fox squeezed my fingers once more, before placing his hand on the wheel. “I went back to Russia.”

My heart raced as my mind filled with images of snow and ice.

“I killed the men who made me like this. I decided to stop relying on others to fix me and find a cure myself.”

Had he done what I’d hoped all along? Had something snapped and fallen from his mind? Hope blazed, chasing away the black cloud of mourning for a wonderful moment. “Is that why you could hug me? You can touch?” I ignored the voice telling me he’d tensed and vibrated with energy when I’d hugged him back. “You’re free?”

His shoulders slumped; he smiled sadly. “Not free, but better.”

I hated the desolation in his eyes. He looked guilty, as if he’d done something wrong by returning to me only marginally repaired. He couldn’t be further from the truth. The fact that he’d tried to heal meant wonders.

“Can I touch you?”

His eyes flew to mine. His jaw clenched but he nodded slowly.

Very carefully, I laid a palm on the hard heat of his left thigh. “I’m so proud of you. I know that sounds strange to say, but you took control and you should celebrate your progress rather than hate that it isn’t cured completely.”

His eyes flashed and he leaned over to press a gentle kiss against my lips. “I swear I could live a thousand fucking years and not deserve you.” Pulling away, he turned into a driveway of a gated property right on the esplanade of Narrabeen. The suburb boasted huge modern architecture, all new and sparkling, and right across the road from the beach.

I blinked as he pressed a remote and the gate rolled open. The house was a two-story white and glass design. The ocean crashed behind us, sounding like muted thunder, welcoming us onto the property. The large double garage door opened, granting shade and a huge concrete home for Fox’s Porsche.

“Where—where are we?” The Northern Beaches were on the opposite end of town to Obsidian. I’d lost all bearings while driving through the city.

Does he own this, too?

I flicked a glance at the man I’d agreed to return home with. How much did I truly know of him?

Nothing.

I didn’t know his favourite foods, or pet peeves, or even his birthday. I didn’t know if he was allergic to anything or how many assets he owned. I’d given him my life all because he proved he could love so fiercely.

And I’m pregnant with his child.

“See, mummy. He needs you after all. He needs someone to love.”

Clara’s voice once again suffocated my lungs. She’d taken up residence in my head, and I never wanted her to leave. Even if it was me telling myself what I needed to hear.

“This is incredible.”

Fox smiled, pulling to a stop inside the garage. “It couldn’t get any more different from Obsidian. I never want to see another gargoyle again.”

I nodded, eternally grateful that I wouldn’t have to enter the dwelling where Clara had died. There was nothing foreboding about this place. It looked welcoming, pristine. A fresh beginning.

Turning off the ignition, Fox said, “We’re home.”

I froze in my seat as a rainbow of emotion filled me: happiness, heartache, hope—all overshadowed by grief. Clara would never see this. She’d never know the massive impact she had on this man.

Turning to face him, I whispered, “I don’t understand.”

Fox gave a half smile and climbed out of the car. Coming around the bonnet, he opened my door and helped me clamber upright. “There’s a lot you won’t understand until I grow some balls and tell you. What I shared in my basement is nothing compared to the involved story—but for now, all you need to know is I bought this two days ago. The moment I found the piece of land for Clara, I found the perfect house for us. I couldn’t return to the club. I need to get away from violence—to try and fix myself once and for all.”

He’d done so much—all behind the scenes while I’d cried myself into a stupor.

“What did you do with Obsidian?”

He smiled. “I sold it to Oscar. He practically ran it himself anyway. I’ve sold it to him for a rock bottom price.” He laughed. “Let’s just say he got a steal.”

My eyes widened at the joviality—so odd coming from Fox. “What steal?”

Aliveness flashed in his eyes for the first time. “I made him give me ten dollars and an oath that he will never talk to me about it, or mention the name Obsidian Fox again, and the club was all his.”

My mind whirled. How could he do that? How much wealth did he have? My eyes narrowed, trying to decipher the conundrum in front of me. “Just who are you?”

He shrugged. “Do you want the long story or the short story?”

Oh, God. I didn’t know if I should be terrified or excited to find out every skeleton in his closet. “Short story, for now.”

“I’m wealthy. From an inheritance.” His jaw twitched—the only sign that it was a painful subject for him. “I can take care of you. I want to take care of you.”

I swallowed.

Fox reached out and dragged me close. His arms wrapped around my waist, forcing my hands to rest on his chest to keep my balance. Every part of me froze; my fingers itched to grab my hair-clip knife, just in case.

His nostrils flared and his face darkened, but he didn’t regress or terrify me. Bowing his head, he pressed his forehead against mine. “You asked me who I am. My name is Roan Averin. Forget you ever knew a man named Fox. He wasn’t a man. He was the product of a past he hated. I never thought I’d be able to use my full name again, but I want to. I want a new beginning. With you.”

My heart broke open and grew wings.

“Roan Averin.” The name sounded sweet on my tongue. A world apart from Obsidian Fox. “I like it.”

He huffed, body tensing as I trailed my fingertips up his chest to his throat.

“Can I?” I murmured, very aware of every muscle tightening inside him.

He squeezed his eyes, nodding.

Slowly, I grazed my fingers along his smooth jaw and cupped his cheeks. He trembled in my hold. Standing on tiptoe, I brushed the lightest of kisses over his lips. His forehead furrowed; teeth clenched.

The innocent kiss reminded me of how delicate he was with Clara, and I struggled to hold onto the moment where grief didn’t interrupt.

I dropped my hands and backed out of his grip. “It will get easier. You’ll see. I’ll help you.”

Am I talking about missing Clara or his condition?

He nodded. “I know. As long as I have you, I can get better. Just please, remember to call me Roan. It will help.”

I knew it would be hard to stop calling him Fox. It was the name of the man I fell for. But I saw how important it was to him. Fox had died with whatever he’d done in Russia, and I needed to obey his wishes to put the past where it belonged.

My eyes fell to the star in the hollow of his throat. “She could always see who you really were.  She was so much better than me. Always saw the best in people. So trusting. Too trusting.” I had to stop as my throat closed, and my heart thudded a painful staccato.

Fox’s eyes glowed. “You were the same. I recognised something I needed in you the second I saw you. I didn’t know what it was, but stealing your knife and marching you up those steps was the best fucking thing I’ve done in my entire life.”

I laughed softly, trembling as he captured my chin. “You’ll never lose her, Zel. We’ll never stop talking about her or keeping her alive in our thoughts.”

Pulling away, he shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Handing it to me, he said, “Seeing as I’ve put so much in the past, to begin anew—this belongs to you.”

I took it, frowning. I opened the handwritten contract between Obsidian Fox and Hazel Hunter. My heart swooped and I met his eyes.

Roan murmured, “Tear it up. That man no longer exists.”

He was asking me to rip up the past. Walk away from everything bad that had happened and embrace a future together.

With trembling fingers, I obeyed. The sound of shredding paper echoed off the garage walls.

Roan went to take my hand, but I pulled back. “Wait.”

I bit my lip as I reached into my dress pocket and pulled out the thing I was terrified of. The thing I’d stolen from Fox the day I knocked him out with the small wolf statue on his side-board. Nestled in a piece of tissue paper sat the blue pill.

I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was poison. I also knew Fox had moments of weakness where he might’ve done something irreversible.

I stole it to prevent him doing something recklessly stupid.

“Here. This belongs to you.”

Grabbing it, he unwrapped the suicide pill. His face darkened; eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck do you have this?” Anger blazed across his features. “Do you know how dangerous this is? What the hell were you think—” Then panic replaced his fear and his fingers dug into my elbow. “You weren’t going…please tell me you weren’t thinking of using this. For fuck’s sake, Zel. What were you going to do?”

I jerked back, hot temper filling me at his wrong conclusion. “You thought I’d be weak enough to kill myself? How could you think that? I may have lost my daughter, but I haven’t lost my mind!”

“Then why do you have it?” Roan bundled up the tissue, clenching his fist.

“Because I didn’t want to walk in on you dead. I hated the thought that you couldn’t stomach living and would rather commit the biggest treason of all and kill yourself. I stole it from you as I didn’t want you to die!”

He moved forward a step, crowding me. “It still doesn’t explain what it’s doing in your fucking pocket.”

I shouted right in his face. “Ever since I took it, I’ve been terrified of it. I didn’t know what to do.” The relief that came with no longer being responsible for such a dangerous thing quietened my anger. “I kept it taped to the underside of my bed to prevent anyone finding it by mistake. It haunted me, and I don’t want the responsibility anymore. I want you to destroy it.”

Without saying a word, Roan grabbed my hand and stalked toward the door leading into the house. He jangled a set of keys, trying to find the right one, never letting go of my hand. The moment he unlocked the door, he dragged me down the corridor and to a bathroom off a room that looked like a shadowed cinema.

The immaculate ensuite looked like a show home ready for viewing. Fluffy turquoise towels with sparkling silver tiles were so different to the black facilities at Obsidian.

“Can’t believe you’ve been walking around with this in your pocket.” Flipping open the lid of the toilet, he threw the tissue and pill into the basin. Flushing it, he snapped, “There. Gone. Now Fox is really dead, and it’s about fucking time you met Roan.”

I squealed as he scooped me off my feet and carted me up the wide white stairs to the second floor. I couldn’t see much in the whirlwind of speed, but everywhere I looked was white. Not one inch of black.

Kicking a door open, he prowled inside and gave me exactly one second to glance around the room.

White king-size bed covered in silky pillows that looked like pristine clouds. The huge expanse of glass welcomed the sand dunes and sea inside. The carpet was white, the bedside tables and small sitting area white.

Everywhere I looked white, white, white.

And then all I saw was black as Roan threw me on the bed and crushed me against the softness of duck down. I moaned as his body heat smothered me and for one joyous moment I let go of my grief and thought only of him. This man who’d turned my world upside down, back to front, inside out.

His hands went to the little pearl buttons of my dress, fumbling with the dainty buttonholes. His breathing accelerated, and he growled in frustration. His touch brought me crawling out of the fog of sorrow and latching onto life.

I grabbed the back of his head, whispering in his ear. “Tear it off. I never want to wear it again.”

“Thank God,” he groaned. His hands bunched the material and tore. The dress went from encasing my body to being ripped into pieces, laying scattered like death on all the perfect whiteness. His eyes dropped to my black underwear. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

He bent over me, biting the swell of my breast with gentle teeth. “I’m going to love you every day. I’ll never get enough of these.” He cupped my breasts, brushing my pebbled nipples with his thumbs. “I’ll never get enough of this.” His right hand trailed down my stomach to cup between my legs.

I moaned as the possessive heat of his palm sent mini explosions in my blood.

My body welcomed the energy Roan conjured, but my mind skittered away. It was wrong to focus on myself. So wrong to thrill in life when Clara no longer had any.

I can’t do this.

I froze.

Roan’s hand dropped from me and he exhaled heavily. “Fuck. I’m an asshole.”

“No, you’re not.” I shook my head, cursing the trickle of tears seeping from my eyes. Would I ever be able to stomach the thought that Clara was no longer in my world?

Roan scooted backward, bringing me with him. I stood on my black dress and something sharp poked the bottom of my foot.

Bending to rub my sole, I found the My Little Pony badge from the funeral. I picked it up; the girlish horse design swirled with my tears.

My insides twisted until I no longer knew how to live. My heart had to relearn how to beat. My mind had to come to terms with loss. My body had to prepare itself to bring more life into the world.

There was too much. Too much sensation. Life was moving too fast, putting distance between me and Clara every second.

I looked up at Roan, begging him to fix it.

“Shit, Zel.” He dragged me against him and held me tight. His warmth helped comfort but at the same time reminded me Clara was no longer warm. I’d stolen her heat as she grew cold in my arms in his office.

My heart squeezed until I couldn’t breathe.

How can I move on when the guilt will kill me?

I didn’t know how long we stood there. But Roan never stopped stroking my hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be so strong. Let go. I’m here.” His voice soothed me, rough and masculine. He didn’t pull away, despite the damp patch growing beneath his shirt from the stress of holding me.

Finally, when my silent shudders had stopped, he disappeared and came back with a white bathrobe from the bathroom. Wrapping me tight, concealing my half-nakedness, he asked, “Can I show you something? It might make it a little easier.” His voice hitched. “Or it might make it fucking worse. I don’t know. I second guessed myself the entire time I did it.”

Trepidation prickled my spine. “Show me what?”

Pulling away, he captured my hand and dragged me from the room. We travelled down a short corridor before he turned a doorknob and pushed me into a snapshot of my past. I felt as if I walked through a time machine.

Clara.

Everywhere.

Huge canvases of her smiling, running, dancing. I couldn’t breathe. I was sure my heart ceased to beat. This must be the gateway to heaven.

Had I died from sadness?

I could sense her. Hear her laugh. Smell her apple scent.

Roan’s strong presence appeared on my right. “Are you okay?”

I barely nodded, too consumed with the blown up pictures of Clara. Her smile radiated, so full of life. “H—how?”

“Obsidian has security cameras. I went back through the footage and saved some shots to remind you she’ll always be here. Even if she’s gone.” He drifted forward, toward the largest picture decorating the walls. It was a portrait of me and Clara walking hand in hand in the gardens. Her purple ribbon had wrapped around my arm and we were laughing, trying to untangle ourselves.

All the air deflated from my body, but instead of collapsing in a waterfall of tears, I sighed with a strange mix of peace and nostalgia. Roan had stolen my daughter by falling in love with her but he’d given her back to me, too.

“I—I don’t know what to say.” I clutched my stomach, holding in the pain of missing her.

He smiled. His scar looked less angry, making him softer, tamer. “Don’t say anything. Whenever it gets too much, come in here and talk to her. She’ll always be with you.” He hung his head, trailing a fingertip over a horse statue I hadn’t noticed.

I spun, taking in the details of the room. In every corner rested bronze and copper horses from Roan’s collection at Obsidian.

“I know it’s stupid, but I hear her. In here.” Roan tapped his temple, then dropped his hand to his heart. “I feel her. In here.”

Oh, God.

Sadness, heartache, and overwhelming tragedy bubbled in my chest. Popping and fizzing until my insides rained with glistening tears. But my eyes stayed dry.

I stayed strong to accept the incredible gift Roan had given me.

“I hear her, too.” I moved forward, tracing a finger over a beautiful sun-drenched photo of Clara picking daisies. “I think I’ll always hear her.”

I couldn’t believe the scarred man before me was the same fighter who’d bought me for sex. He’d changed so much—yet still seemed the same.

I needed him. I needed to show him how grateful I was. How much he gave me. “Take me back to the bedroom,” I whispered.

Roan’s eyes widened. “We don’t have—”

I shook my head. “I want to.” The grief suddenly receded, leaving me blessedly light. Standing in the room surrounded by Clara, I found the strength to put aside my tears and celebrate what I’d gained rather than what I lost.

You need to tell him.

I needed to make it official and stop hiding from the future hurtling toward me. I needed to tell him about his son.

Roan’s shoulders bunched and he came slowly toward me. His lips thinned. “I want you, Zel. God knows how much I fucking want you.” He dropped his eyes, glaring at his fists. “But I’m still struggling inside. I want to be gentle. To hold you and make love to you. But…I won’t be able to and I don’t want to take you violently. Not today.”

My heart raced. I didn’t reply. What could I say? I accepted that and still wanted him. I wasn’t asking to be held while I cried and be rocked to sleep. I was asking to forget—for a short while.

Clara’s memory would still be there to mourn once I’d thanked Roan with all my heart.

“I understand. I need what you can give me. I need to be reminded of how to fight. I’m sick of tears.” Giving him one last look, I moved toward the door.

I didn’t wait for him to follow. Pacing down the corridor, I entered the white bedroom, already prickling with heat and regret. Could I celebrate life and accept everything the new pregnancy would offer? Could I put aside my grief for just a moment to spend time with my future, rather than my past?

My eyes fell on the fluffy, perfectly crafted sheep resting by the large windows.

Clara’s sheep.

Sunlight struck the bronze, dancing like tarnished rainbows onto the white carpet.

“Don’t be sad, mummy. I don’t want you to be sad.”

My heart died all over again but this time, it restarted with a slight thread of hope. Hope that I could survive and wouldn’t buckle beneath the loss.

Arms banded around me from behind. Roan’s hot breath caressed my neck as he nuzzled my ear. “I’ll stop. Just say the word and I’ll leave.”

I arched my back into him. “Take me. Make me come back to life.”

Roan groaned, picking me up and carrying me toward the bed. “I’ll never stop kissing you or loving you. I’ll never stop working hard to fucking deserve you.”

Settling me on the mattress, his body collapsed on mine. His knee forced my legs apart as he rested his fully-clad body against me. The bathrobe fell apart and his hand landed on my side, sending electric fire darting all over.

I’d never get used to the ferocious tingles or sharp connection when we touched.

“You’ll never be alone again, Zel. I’m all fucking yours.” His mouth captured mine. His smoky scent intoxicated me and every taste bud came alive as his sinful tongue entered my mouth. He stole every thought. Every tear. He made me focus on one thing only.

Him.

Passion unfurled in my stomach, heating me, thrilling me. I let myself be selfish and only focused on that moment. Not the future. Not the past. Not anything but the slickness of Roan’s tongue and the hard heat of him between my legs.

He angled his head, his lips sliding against mine. His tongue licked mine in a possessive dance echoing in my core.

My fingers itched to tug his hair, scratch his back. Something feral unlocked inside me and I craved connection. Craved a fight. I wanted to know I was still strong enough despite what had happened.

Roan’s hand cupped my throat, pinning me to the mattress. My eyes flew open as he stopped kissing me. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

My heart exploded at the icy intensity in his silver eyes. I swallowed as his fingers tightened. Instead of fearing him, I accepted it. I willingly gave myself into his power. After everything he’d done for me, he shouldn’t need confirmation. It was obvious.

“I’m yours. Through and through.”

I’m having your child.

His nostrils flared and he moved suddenly, climbing off the bed. The residual heat of his fingers around my neck sparked with erotic torture.

Grey-white eyes locked with mine as he tore off his t-shirt and stood, letting me feast on his skin. Clara’s silver star rested in the hollow of his throat and the spasm to my heart crippled me. I forced myself to stop looking and my eyebrows drew together, noticing the new scars mingling with old. Silver and red, along with purple and blue bruises.

Sitting upright, I traced the two large squares of gauze stuck to his side. “You’re hurt.” I looked up, asking silently what happened. Small pinpricks of blood had seeped through the bandage.

He shook his head. “Later. If you want to know, I’ll tell you.” His hands fell to his buckle and I swallowed hard. “But right now, I’m going to take you. I need to know you’re mine. So I can give you everything that I fucking am.”

My pussy clenched at the raw need in his voice. I couldn’t look away.

His stomach rippled, muscles dancing beneath ruined skin as he undid the button and pulled down the zipper. He let the material whisper down his legs before kicking them away. He stood proud and naked. So different to when I first met him.

My mouth watered to lick every inch. To taste him. To drink him in forever.

His hands twitched by his sides. “Take your bra off.” His voice was dark, husky, heavily accented—the Russian dialect he tried so hard to hide coming through.

Sitting up, I pulled the dressing gown off and unhooked my bra. It came away; I let the cups fall to the bed.

Roan’s eyes fell to my chest, licking his lips. He groaned and cupped himself. His cock jerked in his touch as he stroked sensitive flesh. “You’re the only woman my cock reacts to. All my life, I’ve been alone. I was taught to hate sex. That it would fog my brain—ruin my focus for their missions. But now I look at you and I’m glad. I’m glad my cock only reacts to you. Because it means I fucking own you and you own me in return.”

The passion in his tone kept me locked in his spell. My brain kept poking at grief, kept trying to suck me back into tears, but Roan trapped me with him. I needed it. Desperately. I needed to remember how to be myself. How to survive.

“You’re the only man I’ve been attracted to. I wanted you the moment I saw you. You scared me, terrified me, but beneath it all I saw who you are now. I saw a man I could love. I’m yours, Roan.”

His eyes snapped closed; his entire body shuddered. “Fuck, call me that again.” His voice resonated with lust.

I didn’t know if he wanted me to tell him I loved him or call him by his name. So I did both. I threw myself into the truth and embraced my future with this scarred fighter.

“I love you, Roan Averin.”

His body, so cut and etched in muscle, rippled with need. His eyes wrenched open and for once I saw a sliver of blue in the white depths. I saw ragged passion and undiluted awe. “You fucking own me, Hazel.”

“I don’t own you. I’ll never own you. You’re free. You fought your past and you found your way to me.” My voice cracked with tears—but these tears were pride and gratefulness that he’d been able to fight.

“Fucking hell,” Roan growled. “I need you so much.” Letting go of his erection, he pounced. The bed shifted as he landed on top of me. Supporting his weight on his elbows, his lips crashed against mine, pressing my head into the mattress.

He commanded me to open wide, to accept his brutal kiss. His mouth consumed me. Every slide of his tongue fought and parried. Danced and worshipped.

I moaned as his hand trailed down my ribcage, spreading a wake of fire. Caressing my hip, he dipped inward, pushing my legs apart.

“I want you. I need to be inside you.” He kissed me so hard my teeth bruised my lips. “I can’t be gentle. I’m—sorry. I can’t be—”

My body shattered as he pressed two fingers deep inside me. Drawing wetness and sending exploding pinwheels through my heart. “It’s okay. I under—”

His mouth landed on mine again, swallowing my words. His fingers thrust in a perfect rhythm building me higher and higher. An orgasm gathered behind my eyes, in my heart, my chest, my core.

Every stroke and tease from his long, strong fingers sent sweat dewing on my skin. The sun streamed through the windows, capturing us in a spotlight of heat.

“God, I want to be inside you. Hard and deep. I want to claim every inch of you,” Roan panted, biting my ear.

“Do it. Take me.”

I wanted him now while I existed in this perfect selfish world where nothing else mattered. I’d put barriers up, segmenting the grief I knew was waiting for me.

He laughed, strangled with hunger. “God, you’re too fucking potent. I can’t think straight. I can’t control myself.”

I whimpered as the tip of his cock replaced his fingers, nudging, sliding in just a little.

Turning my head, I bit the billowing sheets, trying to keep my hands away from him. I wanted to pull him deeper, force him to take me fast. The fundamental human need to touch drove me nuts—knowing I couldn’t risk it. He strained himself so much already. Every muscle vibrated, his eyes tight and dark.

Roan hovered, teasing me. His hips rocked, giving me a small amount of his erection. He breathed hard, panting with stress. “Make me take you. Make me fuck you.” He thrust a little, twisting my mind with want. “Take me, Zel. Take all of me. Let me prove you have nothing left to fear.”

I stopped biting the sheets and looked at him. Really looked at him. No more barriers, no more smoke or secrets—he let me see just how hard touching was for him, but he wanted me to do it anyway. Every part of him wanted to kill me. The violence was an aura around him, beading on his brow.

He suffered to protect me.

He willingly battled pain to find salvation that might never come.

My heart couldn’t handle his agony. “It hurts you.” I shook my head. “I can’t. Stop. We can try another day.”

He growled, dropping his head to bite my neck. The sharpness of his teeth made me freeze.

Has he lost control?

My fingers itched for my knife. I said goodbye to Clara today and as much as I missed her, I wasn’t ready to leave this earth.