Kat opened the door to Julius’ cell and slipped inside.

“Butterfly.” Muffled by the hood, the one word could have been her imagination.

She pulled the door closed behind her. Her hands twisted into her skirt. “Everything is going to work out.” She nodded. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I—” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I missed you.”

There was nothing she could do about the chains, she didn’t have the key but the hood had to go. She fit her fingers under the zipper to move his hair out of the way while she unzipped the damn thing. He took a deep breath as she pulled it off and tossed it to the side.

She tipped his face up and caught her breath. Gaia, he looked wrecked. “Are you okay?”

He gave her a wobbly smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Lilith and Trina had visited earlier. They kept saying everything was fine, but they didn’t want her at the trial tomorrow. They were hiding something from her. “What’s wrong?”

One brow rose in mocking question.

“Not that you don’t have plenty to be upset about. I was more asking what you were thinking about right now.”

“You.”

“I’m okay, Jules. Somehow, everything will be fine. We’ll make them see reason at the trial tomorrow. I have to believe that or I’m gonna lose my mind. Gaia wouldn’t have brought us together if she was just going to tear us apart.” She touched her forehead to his. “How are you?”

“Slightly terrified.” He winced. “Give me a minute. I’m sure I can come up with something a little more emasculating.”

She smoothed her fingers over his eyebrows. “I never got to explain things before Harrison came and now. . . .” She shook her head. “If the Nephilim hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be here right now. I thought . . . .” She blinked hard against the burning behind her eyes. Goddess help her, she’d screwed things up. “I never wanted you to get hurt. I love you, Jules.”

His lips curved. “I—”

“Don’t.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. She couldn’t bear to hear the words while he was chained up in this cell. “Tomorrow. When you’re home with me. Tell me then.”

“Okay.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Take my mind off things, butterfly. I’ll take anything, tell me a story. Kiss me.”

She skated her hands up under his shirt, over his sides. “Oh, I think I could do better than that, handsome.”

He chuckled. “They didn’t leave me much room for maneuvering here, butterfly.”

“Ever since the first time we made love I’ve wanted to get you tied up.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She swished her skirt out of her way, lifted her leg over him and sank onto his lap. She lifted her gaze and her breath caught. “I love that I can see your eyes. I wish . . . .” Gaia, she just wished she could see him, not the glamour of his old self. She’d grown used to the scars, to his unusual left eye.

“What do you wish?”

She shook her head.

“It’ll all work out, butterfly. Before you know it, I’ll be home making you crazy.” His lips quirked on one side. “Yep, I’ll make you nuts, replace all your long skirts with short ones.”

She shook her head. Something was very wrong. His light tone sounded forced. His grin didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hide all your bras and panties to keep you naked under your clothes.”

Her lips wobbled.

“I’ll make you dance once a week at least. Make love to you every night.”

She pressed her lips together to stop their trembling. Everything was going to be fine, damn it.

“I’ll paint a thousand pictures of you.”

“And I’ll make you talk about your problems.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a nag.”

“Make you meditate with me.”

“And bossy.”

“And stick ice cubes in your armpits.”

He chuckled. “We’ll be awful together.”

“Terrible.” She nodded. Why did this feel so much like goodbye? Was she just being melancholy? She forced herself to meet his gaze.

“Don’t cry.”

“Never.” She sniffed and dashed away a tear.

“Liar.” He leaned in and stroked his cheek against hers. Kissed her. She framed his face in her hands and slanted her mouth over his, delving her tongue in to taste him.

Everything else she pushed away, the fear, the sorrow. Instead, she focused on his earthy, masculine scent infusing every breath. The taste of him. The prickle of his whiskers under her hands.

“I want inside you one more time.”

She reached between them and undid his belt. The button. The fly. She got up and pulled his jeans as low as she could on his thighs. “I’m sorry. This might be more uncomfortable for you than I thought.”

“I don’t care.” His gaze raked over her. “Lift your skirt. Show me.”

A week ago, she wouldn’t have been able to do this. She’d existed with an odd mixture of over-stated pride in being demure and embarrassment over her body. Now . . . .

She unbuttoned the top of her dress, baring her breasts for him. Cupping them and tweaking her nipples under his gaze. Slowly, she undid the rest of the buttons and flipped the material back behind her.

His breath hitched. Nostrils flared. “You shaved.”

“Mm.” She rocked against him so her slit slid against his cock.

“Jesus, I wish I could taste you.”

She bit her lip, lowering her hand to dip her fingers in her pussy. She traced her damp finger around her nipple before lifting herself so he could suckle at her breast. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” He nipped her. “You’re driving me out of my fucking mind.” His cock twitched against her as if nodding in agreement. She took him in hand, stoking him while his mouth did wicked things at her breasts.

“Put your feet on my calves.”

She shifted her weight, wiggling off her flats and the soft pads of her feet flattened across the backs of his legs. A small smile flitted with her lips.

“What?”

“Your leg hair tickles.” She leaned forward, her cheek pressed to his and she fitted his cock to her slit.

The hard, thick length of him filled her as she eased down. The hand on his shoulder slipped up to his neck. She placed the other on his chest, fingers splayed wide. She let her hands drag down his neck, his chest and lifted the hem of his shirt. Slid her hands underneath, and let the hem ride her wrists as she stroked up corrugated abs. Higher, she brushed her thumbs over his nipples. Gaia, she wanted it off.

He pulled back. “You don’t have to . . . .”

“What?”

His gaze slid away. “You don’t have to touch my skin.”

“Why wouldn’t . . .?” She put her hands back on his face and made him look at her. “Is that why you always tied me up? You didn’t want me to touch you?”

He tried to look away and she angled herself back into his view.

“I figured you’d be more likely to keep me in your bed if you didn’t have to feel all the scars.”

“You make me so mad sometimes.” She hauled the hem up, over his head. The arms of the shirt twisted and pulled tight over his shoulders and across his neck. She dropped her gaze to take in all that hard muscle she’d uncovered.

Jesus, she was killing him.

She pressed up, balancing her weight on his calves, before easing down again. “You know what I feel?” She skated her lips over his. “Warm skin pulled taut over the bulge of hard muscle.” She rocked her hips forward. “I feel your strength. I feel you shiver when I move the right way.” Up, all that wet heat stroked over him, squeezing and clenching as if to hold him in. “I feel your chest rise and fall with each breath which means you’re still mine.” Down, her inner muscles fluttered in welcome in time to the shiver that shook the rest of her. “I want to touch you, Jules.” Her breasts dragged across his chest as she rose up. “I need to.” Those sweet nipples of hers jabbed his chest, seeking attention he couldn’t give.

How the hell was he supposed to leave her? Because he had to. Better to leave her alone in a world that was whole and healthy, than to steal a little more time with her and watch her wilt as the world dissolved into chaos around them.

He slanted his mouth over hers. Maybe to shut her up before she cracked him wide open. Maybe because he needed to feel every part of her, too. She tasted divine, bitter sweet from the tang of her dinner mixed with her essence. She threaded her fingers in his hair, fisting the too-long locks as she lifted. The slight pain mixed with the drag and flex of her pussy around his cock had him shuddering. “Damn, I like that.”

“I know.” She nipped his bottom lip. Sucked it into her mouth and swiped her tongue over the sensitive flesh of his inner lip. Her inner muscles clamped around him and pulsed out her orgasm. She wrapped herself around him, shuddering as she held him close.

“Jesus.” She dragged him with her. His whole body tensed, his muscles straining against his restraints as he went over the edge. He squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure roared through him, making him feel boneless. God, he wished he could hold her. Wished he’d be there to do all the things he promised.

What a joke. Here he was supposed to be the Destroyer, the soul to end all souls. And all it took was one sweet little butterfly to bring him to his knees.

“I wish things were different, butterfly. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I wish I’d lived my life different.” He shook his head. “I hate that a decision I made three hundred years ago is making it impossible for me to be with you now.”

She held onto him tighter, so tight he felt almost certain she could keep him from shattering into a million pieces. “Everything will be fine after the trial. I have faith.”