Tomorrow, it would all be over.
No more death or pain or blood.
I would be free—
The door creaked open behind me. The soft thuds of predator paws.
Choking on rabid craving, I muttered, “You’re finally back, you traitor.”
The sleek panther came to my side and snorted.
Catching his golden eyes as the moon shone in them, I did my best to stand tall and ignore the tangled mess my body had become. “Abandoned me to hang out with your new friend, huh?”
A pang of jealousy.
Fuck, I was jealous.
Of a cat.
Because he’d gotten to be with her when I couldn’t.
My temper simmered, even at my best friend.
He cocked his head, the tips of his fangs showing as if he took offence to my tone.
Turning back to the flaming world below, I peered past all the torches and braziers, wishing I could see through walls and watch Rook sleep.
Whisper stood up on two legs, digging his claws into the parapet. His whiskers flared as if he scented her on the breeze, a sharp longing in his eyes that made my gut clench.
I recognised that longing.
It crippled me too.
Yet another emotion caused by her.
It was getting crowded inside me and I had no idea how much longer I could cope.
But all these fantasies and all these needs might die a miserable death tomorrow because I was about to make her do something she’d probably never forgive me for.
And once it was all over, she’d probably want nothing to do with me.
But even that couldn’t stop me.
Not now.
Not when I was so close to ending it all.
Chapter Fifty
“LUCIEN?” I INCHED MY WAY AROUND HIS door, entering the sprawling quarters that he hardly ever left. “Lucien?” No signs of him as I drifted forward, glancing at all his usual spots. Not on the window seat, in the courtyard, in the wingback by the fireplace—
“You’re late.”
“God, stop doing that!” I jumped backward as he popped up from the couch. Pressing a hand to my racing heart, I scowled. “You have got to give me a heads-up from now on.”
“Why should I? When it’s so easy to scare you?” Swinging his legs to the floor from where he’d been reclining, he stood and prowled toward me. “I like having the power to make you react.”
I stilled.
Something about the way he said that hinted he wasn’t talking about making me jump.
My mouth went dry as my body sparked alive.
I’d dreamed about him last night.
Of him touching me when I was actually awake. Of touching him back—
“You’re looking at me again,” he clipped, his tone sharp.
“I am.” I nodded, blatantly drinking my fill.
Black trousers, black shirt, but no black coat today. His thick black hair fell rebelliously over his forehead, his cheekbones stark as if he didn’t have enough to eat or was being eaten alive by pain.
The silver disc glinted through the open neckline of his shirt, making him seem both dangerous and trapped, restrained by a leash and feral because of it.
No one had the right to be that good looking. No one should affect my entire soul just by existing.
“If you’re done,” he muttered. “You have a busy day ahead of you.”
“I do?”
He nodded.
“You know...working me so hard might make me sick.” I did my best to stop being so infatuated by him. “And then where will you be? You’ll have to look after me instead of me looking after you.”
“You want me to look after you?”
My hackles rose at how offensive he seemed to find that thought. “Calm down. I’m not asking you to be responsible for me.”
“Responsible for you.” He scowled and leaned forward. “You do know what a loaded phrase that is in my culture, right?”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “What does it mean?”
He smirked just a little. “Asking me to be responsible for you is as blatant as offering yourself to me...for life.”
“I-It is?”
“It’s a clear emotional plea saying I’ve ruined you for all others and you can’t survive unless I claim you.”
“But...” My headache broke through the miraculous properties of his blood and throbbed. “I didn’t ask you to be responsible for me.”
“Pity.” He exhaled. “I might have said yes.”
I almost dropped dead on the carpet. “Wait. You would?”
He flinched as if only just realising where this conversation had gone. Shutters came down over his eyes as he stepped back and cleared his throat. “I don’t have time for this. We need to—”
“Thank you, by the way.” I cut him off, not willing to let the magic of this moment fade. “Thank you for saving me yesterday. Thank you for taking away my pain. And thank you for putting me in a different pavilion so I wouldn’t have to see the aftermath.”
His jaw tightened as if uneasy with my gratitude. “You’re welcome.” His gaze held mine before straying over my mouth, neck, and settling on my breasts.
Fire flooded me, arrowing between my legs.
God, how did he do it?
How was he the only man in the entire world able to turn me on with a single look?
Trembling a little, my hand went to what he stared at, resting over the swell above my heart. “Did you...did you do anything else while healing me?”
He froze.
Every muscle in his body locked as if I’d struck him. “Excuse me?”
The tendons in his throat stood out as if he choked on guilt and denial. His jaw worked, refusing to confess.
The air between us burned.
I wanted to tell him what Laura had seen. I wanted to see his reaction if I told him I knew he’d kissed me, fondled me...that he could do it again if he wanted.
But my frustrating condition broke through the numbing quality of his blood, steadily building a migraine.
The air continued to smoulder and smoke, becoming unbearably tense—
“You were unconscious.” Staggering backward, he sucked in a tattered breath. “I helped you, that’s all.” Sweat glimmered on his hairline. “I didn’t—”
A soft beep.
A flash of red.
He clutched his chest as his system activated awful punishment, just because he’d felt something. His hand landed over his heart, clawing at the piece of metal.
I dashed forward—
He flung up his other hand, snarling like Whisper. “Stay away from me. I can’t be close—” He broke off with a hiss, crashing against the back of the couch as pain arced through him.
Completely ignoring him, I closed the distance between us and planted my palm over his on that nasty device. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He froze.
Our eyes locked.
The way he stared at me—as if he wanted to kill me and kiss me all at once. The way his teeth ground together and chest rose and fell beneath my hand.
For a moment, the world felt far, far too small.
Just him and me and nothing else.
But then he slid his hand from beneath mine and pushed me back.
Something wrenched inside me, but I didn’t fight him.
Awkwardness fell as he cleared his throat. “I feel better.”
I didn’t know if it was from me touching him or if his pulse had calmed far quicker than mine, but I’d already asked far too much of my stress-phobic system to tolerate.
I grew a little dizzy.
Meagre sunlight came through the windows, glinting on a faint scar across his chin. I latched onto it, doing my best to stay upright.