Two nights later I found myself standing at an enormous window in Tristan’s penthouse at the top of Wolfe tower, wearing a red silk robe.

I hadn’t realized at first that this was where my lover had brought me after Jack’s attack. Now that I’d gotten to know the massive penthouse a little bit, I was growing to love it more and more. Tristan hadn’t let me walk around too much, but I’d strolled enough to discover that there were five bedrooms, a gym, a swimming pool, and the biggest living area I’d ever seen.

I hadn’t been capable of any prolonged walks, as I was still regaining my balance and confidence. My body felt perfectly fine, but my head was still foggy at times, possibly from the transfusion of Valkyrie blood. It seemed that Kara’s power had overwhelmed me just a little—though not in a bad way. If anything, I felt better than I ever had in my life.

But definitely different.

Marcus had been by to see me a few times. He’d expressed his regret at not protecting me, but I’d assured him that no one could look after me all the time. I wasn’t a toddler. It wasn’t his job to protect me from an ass like Jack. That was my job, and I’d failed.

I’d also told him about Tristan’s job offer, which had resulted in one of the biggest hugs of my life.

Now, I simply stared out the window, happily awaiting Tristan. Tonight was to be our special date, our candlelight dinner, and whatever was to come afterwards. Tristan had spent the last two nights by my side, but he’d refused to take advantage of my slightly weakened state, even when I’d offered to share the bed.

But by now, I was aching for him. For his lips, his touch. For everything I’d wanted for so long. The hunger was all but eating away at me, and if he pushed me away tonight I was slightly worried that I might tear his clothes off anyhow.

I stared out at the night sky, relishing the way the clouds passed over the full moon, and basked in my happiness. For once, everything was perfect. Truly perfect.

The door opened after a minute, and I turned to see Tristan wheeling in a cart with a capped silver tray on top, two champagne flutes by its sides. So, the toast we’d never gotten to make in Colorado was finally going to be ours. This was a night to celebrate.

Tristan left the cart by the foot of the bed and walked over to peer outside with me.

“The moon is so beautiful tonight,” I said softly, my eyes exploring its glowing contours.

“It is,” he replied. “It’s not the only thing that’s beautiful, though.”

I turned to look at him as he backed away, those piercing, seductive eyes of his focused on mine as they had been so many times. I could feel his hunger hanging in the air between us, intermingling with my own, an electricity that I could all but taste emanating from us both.

I took an eager step towards him, but he shook his head.

“Don’t you dare say no to me, Tristan Wolfe,” I scolded.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t be so stupid as to turn you down.”

“Yes, you would.” But I stood patiently and watched as he dropped his chin, crossed his wrists, and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt. Slowly, he pulled the garment up over his torso, revealing for the first time everything that lay beneath.

My heart stopped when for the first time, I saw what he’d been hiding from me.

Yet another of Tristan’s secrets was unraveling before my eyes.

The scars stared back at me like vicious pieces of a puzzle I was far from solving. The evidence of a secret life that he’d once led, of stories he hadn’t yet shared with me. Of an era of cruelty, drawn on his chest like the scrawled handwriting of a historian.

I saw the road map that was Tristan Wolfe for the first time…and it frightened me.

He looked into my eyes, no doubt assessing my reaction. The sadness, the pity, the pain in my face. But still, he turned his back to me slowly, willing to show me everything.

The angry red slashes that criss-crossed his muscular torso were multiplied on the ridged muscles along his back, in an inhumanly cruel trellis pattern.

I knew without asking that the scars left behind were not from an animal’s claws, but from the weapons of men.

“Those are lash marks,” I said, my voice catching hard in my chest. “From a whip?”

He nodded. “Yes. From long ago.”

“But why…” I began, but he turned around and put his hand up to stop me.

“Not now, Ariana. Come with me to bed,” he said. “Tonight, I don’t want to talk about the pain of the past. I only want to experience a little heaven, and think about the future.”

I forced my eyes to shift from his torso to his face. To those gorgeous, ethereal eyes that had seduced me so many times in my mind and exposed my soul.

He reached a hand out and I took it, slipping over to the bed with him. He spun me around and pushed me backwards playfully, tearing the robe open, only to groan when he discovered that I was entirely naked underneath.

He fell to his knees and slipped his tongue between my breasts, kissing his way up to my collar bone. Easing down again, he drew my left nipple into his mouth, lashing its tip with his magnificent tongue. I buried my fingers in his thick hair, pulling my thighs apart to welcome him between them. Without missing a beat, he pushed himself to his feet, reached down and undid his jeans, dropping them to the floor.

He pulled himself over me again, his lips meeting mine briefly before trailing their way down my body, stopping only when they’d reached the spot between my legs. He nudged me once with the tip of his nose, moaning with coarse pleasure as he took in my scent.

“This was so worth waiting for,” he growled. His lips explored my sex for a moment, teasing, peppering me with erotic kisses. He sucked gently on my clit, then dipped his tongue inside me as my hips rolled forward to greet his mouth.

“I’ve wanted you so much,” I moaned. My core was frantic for him, a deep agony penetrating me, begging for his length. The closer we were to ecstasy, the more I needed him. “I need you now. Please, Tristan…”

He slipped his torso over mine and looked down at me, his eyes going icy bright with hunger. “Who am I to say no to a request like that?” he asked.

An instant later, I felt his cock head press into me, then the anguish of a violent thrust.

I cried out, tracing my fingers along the lines of his scars, the raised marks on his back guiding me to spots of smooth, unassaulted flesh. He drove inside me, deep, hard, and all I could think was that if the life he’d lived hadn’t broken him, and if mine hadn’t broken me—then we could get through anything together.

He drew himself up and bent to kiss me hard, rolling his hips slowly, in, out, in, out. Each time he pulled away, his cock eased clear of my opening, ramming itself back in, renewing my pleasure as though for the first time.

He kissed my neck, my breasts, his thumb finding my clit and stroking me in tight circles. So much was happening to my body at once that I worried that I might explode. Yet somehow, I stayed whole. I slammed my eyes shut, reveling in the sensation of him. The perfection of his broken, sensual body.

It was a body that had been through wars. A body that had been lashed with cruelty and malice. A body that was so strong that it had survived centuries of conflict and come out powerful enough to rule Manhattan, and maybe even the world.

A body that was mine to care for now. And care for it I would.

“Tristan,” I moaned as he buried himself deep again. “I don’t think I can hold back…”

“Don’t,” he growled, pushing himself up to stare into my eyes. “Never hold back with me.”

I let the rush sweep over me, my body taking hold of his in a series of convulsions that made me feel so out of control that I wanted to laugh with pure, unrelenting joy.

He drove himself faster now, wanting to meet my ecstasy with his own. My thighs grabbed hold of his hips as he rammed his thick shaft deep, letting out moans that sounded more like the snarl of an animal than of a man. Then I felt the rush of heat meet my insides.

My channel tightened hard, taking full possession of him. My arms drew my lover to me, never wanting to release him again.

Tears streamed down my temples into my hair, the emotional anguish of it all too powerful to hold back.

I knew in that moment that I loved Tristan.

I loved him, and it terrified me. Yet it was the best feeling on earth.