THE HOLLOW SOUND OF MY boots on the hardwood floor reminded me of a man walking the plank. I felt like that unfortunate soul, hands ruthlessly tied behind my back—rage, anger, fear, and vulnerability all pulsing through me like an out-of-control wildfire.
I had been this way since Tarek’s trial seven days ago.
Delara’s recount of what happened had ripped through my body like a serrated knife and it took everything I had not to kill Tarek in front of the Wraiths. The fuckin’ guy just stood there. Not even a hint of remorse.
Zurina had risen from her seat when my Ink slithered across my neck, red eyes blazing. The Four Wraiths waited apprehensively around the oblong marble table, watching me, ready to use their elemental powers if necessary.
However, it was Delara’s telepathic words and her serenity that reached through my black rage and kept me from going against the Deaconry’s law and killing Tarek with my bare hands.
“He is not worth your life. Please, Waleron. I can’t lose you again.”
My glare shifted from Tarek to her and I was met with a half smile accompanied by a diminutive shake of her head.
She sat in front of the Deaconry, consisting of the four elementals—Tor, Edan, Genevieve, and Urtzi—the witch Mariana, and two Taldeburus, Zurina and myself.
Delara’s hands were beneath the table, so I was unable to see them, but they were most likely pinching her thighs like she always did when upset.
There were black half-moons beneath her coffee eyes and tears pooled in the rims. Delara was pale and trembling, but after Zurina’s several-days-long healing, her body had recuperated physically.
But she hadn’t healed emotionally. She blamed herself for what happened and I hated that she’d been beaten down so much that she felt that way. Tarek had done that to her.
When it was Tarek’s turn to speak, I cast my vote for him to be executed and Traced from the council room. There was no chance I’d be able to listen to his lies and not kill him.
It was several hours later when I heard they’d voted Tarek be put into Rest for twenty years instead of execution.
Genevieve told me it was Zurina who had swayed the vote and gone against me.
Zurina was a Healer and had sympathy for others. I didn’t.
After destroying my room in the Realm, I walked the corridors for hours. Even the involuntary calm that one experienced in the Realm had failed to appease my darkness and rage.
When my Ink finally calmed, I Traced from the Realm to the Talde house in Toronto.
And now here I was, striding down the hallway toward her.
I stopped outside her door, hand tight around the doorknob.
Jesus, why the hell was I here? It was selfish and wrong.
I’d kept my distance for seven days. Seven fuckin’ days of hell.
She made me vulnerable to my Ink and the rage it had fed on for the last sixty-one years. It was a risk to see her and yet, I had no choice. I needed to.
I didn’t knock. Delara was a Tracker and would’ve scented me the moment I Traced into the Talde house.
I opened the door, walked in and shut it with the heel of my boot.
My eyes instantly found her on the far right side of the room, leaning against the wall, her serrated blade held out in front of her.
“Put the knife down, Delara.”
She hesitated, then placed it on the nightstand beside her. She tilted her chin up and crossed her arms over her chest.
She was mad that I’d been avoiding her, but mostly confused and hurt. I’d saved her life, been there while Zurina healed her over several days, and then when she woke, I left.
I had to. Fuck, there was no choice in us, and yet, I had to find a way to break us. End the bond that couldn’t be broken.
God, but look at her. I needed to be with her just once before I gave her up for all time. Didn’t we deserve that after what we’d both been through? Could I be with her one time and walk away? Could I take that chance?
Did I have a choice? Every single inch of me was already in her arms, holding her, kissing her, devouring every inch of the body that was mine and mine alone.
Unquestionably, the road I was about to take would haunt me for all time, but I needed her. One night would be worth everything.
My control fell into the depths of a black abyss and I cursed, knowing that this would be the death of me. She’d be the death of me.
Just once, to ease the pain that sat like an anchor on my heart. What heart? My Ink owned it now. I’d sacrificed myself for freedom, and now I was forced to live in a tomb of numbness.
Zurina had given me the pills when I sat at Delara’s bedside waiting for her to gain consciousness. She’d told me the pills would help keep my Ink contained, but would still allow me to Trace. She’d warned me that if I stopped them, my Ink would take over and I’d be lost to its power.
“Waleron?” Delara questioned in that sweet husky voice I craved.
It was memorized. Engraved. Stamped on my mind for all time. I’d hungered every day for sixty-one years to hear my name pass her plush lips. “Why are you here?”
Did I have an answer? I had before I’d opened the door and seen her. My reaction compelled me to her like a magnet.
“Why?” Delara asked, her voice restrained.
Fuck, she was mad and had every right to be, after I’d left her the second she woke.
Words eluded me, a definite first. How did I tell the woman I loved that I wanted to fuck her, but it would be the last time?
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Delara tilted her head to the side, her nose scrunching, and I knew she was attempting to scent what I was feeling. A Reflector would’ve been able to tell as soon as I entered the room, but Delara was a Tracker, able to track others by their scent, so emotions were not as easy for her. I could mask my emotions from a Tracker, however, I wanted Delara to feel my desire.
When it hit her, she stumbled back, the backs of her legs hitting the wooden frame of the bed. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped.
“Waleron,” she whispered, breathless.
Her voice caressed my name like honey. It was the voice I’d clung to all the years I’d been imprisoned.
My control snapped.
It took six strides to reach her. I heard her gasp just before I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her small frame against me.
Her eyes were wide and uncertain, heart beating erratically to match my own. She trembled.
There was nothing gentle about me right now. It was too late to stop. Too late to do anything but take what I wanted and hold the one woman who had melted the ice around my heart so many years ago.
One night.
My fingers tightened on her slender neck.
She sensed it.
What was to come.
My fingers curled in her hair to make certain she didn’t look away from me.
“Once,” I said. I needed her to know that this was all I could give.
Her chest rose and fell against mine. “I don’t understand. Why—”
“It’s all I can give.” I needed her to agree. “Once, Delara.”
She rested her palm on the cage of my heart. A single tear traced down her cheek and my willpower to wait until she agreed vanished. “Waleron,” she whispered.
Swooping her up in my arms, I tossed her on the bed and lowered on top of her.
Nestled between her thighs, I fought the urge to rip off her clothes and sink my cock into her hard and fast. But each touch, each look into her eyes, every kiss and thrust, had to be savored and cherished.
Her arm rose and then her fingers caressed my cheek, a feathered touch that had my cock straining against my cargo pants.
“Impossible,” I muttered.
I slammed my mouth down on hers and all control broke. Fierce. Bruising. Driven by starving need.
Maitagarri. My beloved.
Her sweet, satin tongue met mine and I groaned low in my throat. My hands slid up her arms and curled around her wrists, dragging them above her head.
“Let me touch you,” she begged.
She tried to pull free, but I tightened my grip. “No, maitagarri. I cannot.” I ground my cock into her pelvis and she arched into me.
Fuckin’ beautiful.
“I missed you,” I murmured as I trailed kisses down her neck. “Every single second, I missed you.” I shouldn’t have said the words, it would only damage us later, but I needed her to know.
Her body sagged and I caught the choked sob in her throat.
“Baby,” I said, just before I took her mouth once more.
Every touch, every kiss, sob, breath, it was our last. We could never do this again.
“Please,” Delara begged, tilting her neck as I nuzzled the soft flesh behind her ear. “Let me go,” she said.
Never sat on the tip of my tongue. But I had to purge her from my heart.
“I will let you go, Delara.” But the words meant far more than releasing her wrists.
With wild frenzy I tore off her shirt and pants, then mine, needing to feel her naked skin against me.
The moment our skin met, my breath stilled and I groaned. It was a high. Like an addict being sated after years and years of denial.
Her arm looped my neck, dragging my mouth to hers again. “Kiss me. I need you to kiss me again,” she said.
I kissed her. Fuck, I kissed her and drank her into me as if it were the last drink I’d ever have.
Our hands were all over one another, rough, hard, slow, teasing. It was the melding of bodies that had been starved for one another.
My mouth trailed kisses across her neck, down her chest to her nipples. Sucked and teased one, then the other, teeth biting the delicate nubs until she cried out, then soothing them again with my wet tongue.
I watched her while I did it. Her eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, and mouth open as she panted beneath me.
I lifted above her and stopped. Stopped everything as I stared at her. That first moment I’d seen her smile, I’d known she was mine.
Delara had always been mine.
A love crucified.
That’s what we were.
Her hands gripped my shoulders to pull me toward her, but I resisted. “Please,” she cried, eyes spangled with desire.
Jesus, she was beautiful. A deep groan emerged from the back of my throat and I took her erect nipple into my mouth again. There was no softness as my teeth nipped, teased, and suckled what I’d been denied for so long. Every inch of my body was in flames, coldness dissipating from my veins, her passion feeding me life.
I kissed across her stomach, my hands on her hips to keep her still as I explored every crevice of her body, tasting the sweetness and smelling her delicious scent that I’d dreamed about for over a half century.
My finger hooked the black silk material of her panties and her teeth tugged at her lower lip, eyes lighting up like a rainbow of brilliance.
I reached up and ran a finger down her cheek and across her upturned lips. So simple, to smile, and yet I couldn’t match it. It was too difficult when I knew the outcome of this night.
Slipping my hands beneath the edge of her silk panties, I tugged them off, then slid my hands up her inner thighs.
“Sweet Jesus.” The words tore from my throat as I ran a finger through the wetness between her legs. “So wet for me.”
Her fingernails dug into my shoulder blades as she panted and arched. “Oh God. More. More.”
“You’ll have more, baby. All of me.” I shoved my finger up inside her and said, “Once. Just once more.”
“Yes, God, yes.” She writhed against my fierce plunges, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow.
And it was fuckin’ beautiful. So damn beautiful.
I withdrew and her eyes flew open. “You need my cock inside you, baby?”
“Yes,” she panted.
My fingers weaved into her hair and held her still as our eyes met.
With one swift movement, I plunged my cock inside her and she gasped, eyes closing, back arching, and her thighs hugging my waist, taking all of me.
Rough. Urgent. Starved.
She met my thrusts with her own crazed need, nails raking my skin so hard I let out a loud growl.
“Waleron,” she said between gasps. “Oh God, Waleron. I can’t…. Oh God. Yes. Yes. I’m yours.”
Just my name emerging from her throat was enough to send me over the edge. It would probably be the last time I’d hear it pass her lips laced with passion. But it was mine to keep, that sweet sound of my name on her lips.
Her thighs clenched around me, then she spasmed around my cock and my restraint broke as my body took control over my mind.
I thrust harder. Faster.
Our bodies slammed together with a loud smack until every muscle tightened.
“Maitagarri,” I growled as my cock jerked and I came inside her. “Jesus.”
After several minutes of neither of us moving, she reached up and cupped my cheek.
It was then I saw the single tear trail down her cheek. I wiped it away with the pad of my thumb then lowered my head and kissed the wetness that clung to her flushed skin.
She sighed.
I stared at the one woman who had made me forsake my control. She’d suffered. I saw the faint scars on her skin and knew they had to be from Tarek.
It destroyed me to think that I could not go back in time and take away what she had gone through.
Had I just made it worse? By being with her, had I inadvertently placed one more scar on her with my own hand?
Fuck, yeah. But if I had to live without her, I needed this piece of her to survive.
“Waleron?” Delara asked.
I slipped from her succulent warmth and moved off her body to lie beside her. Already the coldness seeped back into me.
She rolled onto her side and her hand came to rest on my chest, her fingers doodling on my skin. She leaned over and kissed me, not on my mouth, but on my side, just below my ribcage.
My muscles tightened as I stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath and seal off all my emotions.
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Don’t close me out.”
I had to. It was the only way I’d be able to leave her.
I clenched my jaw. “I’m filled with darkness and rage, maitagarri. Nothing can come of what has happened here, Delara.”
Delara had always been strong, but after what happened with Tarek she was vulnerable. And I was swinging the final gauntlet.
“Don’t do this.” Delara rested her hand on my chest.
I slid out of bed and her hand slipped away and I immediately felt the emptiness. Fuck.
When I bent to pull on my pants, she sat up in bed, the sheet pressed to her chest, covering her nakedness. And damn it, she looked more luscious than I’d ever seen her.
“Our love can heal us both,” she whispered.
I zipped up and flicked the button through the slit, then straightened and looked at her. “I’m no longer the man you love. I am incapable of it.” My Ink being released had made certain of that, and now, the pills I took to keep my emotions contained cemented it.
“You saved my life.” Delara stood, dragging the sheet with her as she approached me. “You came when I needed you most. That is love, Waleron. Our love. Nothing can erase it or break it apart.” She reached out and linked our hands. “What is between us can’t be ended. I felt it the day we met. I felt it when you found me near death. I feel it now.”
“Everything has an end, Delara,” I said, letting her hand go.
It was not how I wanted us to end, but she was giving me no choice. “I saved your life because that’s my job. My oath to the Goddess. Nothing more.” I picked up my shirt from the floor and pulled it over my head.
“That’s not true. You escaped her when I needed you most. I was dying and—”
The next words ripped from my throat and made my stomach curdle. “I don’t love you anymore, Delara.”
Without looking at her, I strode to the door. Jesus Christ, why did this hurt so fuckin’ much? Because I love her. And hurting someone you loved was worse torture than anything Jasmine could have ever done to me.
“Damn it, I love you,” she shouted in a strangled cry. “I love you.”
I flinched, hand tightening around the doorknob.
Peering over my shoulder at her, I said in a steady, calm voice, “I will never love you again. You’re a Scar and I will protect you with my life—that is my oath. Nothing more.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath and in that moment, the last flicker of light inside me died.
I yanked open the door and walked out.