Falling Blind

“I’ll wear your necklace. Ronan said that will keep you alive, even if I’m on the other side of the planet. But I need my space.”



He could barely shove the words out through his growing fury. “To do what?”



“Don’t get mad at me,” she snapped. “I’m doing the right thing here. I’m getting away from the demon where it can’t control me so easily. And I’m not letting you die.”



“But you’re not willing to stay by my side, either. You’re not willing to become what you were meant to be.”



She blinked fast, and her gaze slid around as if she could no longer see. “There are no rules saying I have to cling to your side like some kind of infatuated schoolgirl. Ronan said this will work. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”



“Who will keep you safe?”



“I will. I’ve got some power now. I’ll use it if I have to.”



“Where will you go? How will you even get around if your visions are worse?” Just to prove his point, he grabbed her hand, knowing it would make her visions fade again.



Her mouth flattened in frustration and her words came out with a growling edge. “I’ll manage. Blind people do it all the time.”



“I see. So you’d rather be blind and struggling on your own than allowing me to fulfill my vow.”



Her shoulders inched up toward her ears. “I’m sorry, Cain, but I really don’t give a fuck about your vows.”



“None of them? Not even my promise to kiss you again? Do you remember that one, Rory?”



He could tell she did by the way her gaze snapped to his mouth. She jerked her hand away from his touch, and he was sure she’d done it to intentionally blind herself. “That was before last night’s eye-opening events. I’ve changed my mind.”



“That’s not the way it works. When we make a promise, we are bound to it, compelled to fulfill it. Whether it’s keeping you safe or kissing you as you’d asked, my choice to act is dictated in that moment.”



“So what does that mean? You have to kiss me to fulfill the promise?”



“That was what you demanded of me.”



She thrust her chin up. “Fine, then kiss me and be done with it.”



“What about the other vow? My life for yours, Rory. Even if I kiss you, that vow will still tie us together. I can’t protect you if I’m not nearby.”



“Sounds to me like you did that last night—you nearly died getting us out of there.”



“Yes, but intent matters as much as the words. My intent was to protect your life no matter what, even if it means forfeiting my own. Not only once, but for as long as I live.”



She swallowed hard, her voice growing weak. “Your vow. Your problem.”



“And what about yours? What was your intent when you and I were in each other’s arms in your bedroom? Were you only asking me for a peck on the cheek?”



He knew she hadn’t been. She’d been asking for much, much more. And he’d been more than willing to give her whatever she wanted. Even now, he could feel the need to pull her close and finish what they’d started. Only his concern for her state of mind held him back. But as time passed, the compulsion to fulfill his vow would increase until he could think of nothing else.



She stared at him for a long time, indecision wrinkling her forehead. “If we do what I asked of you, it’s going to make it so much harder for me to walk away.”



“I’m okay with that. I don’t want you to leave. It’s not safe.” There was more to it than that, but he dared not even admit that to himself, much less her. With her talk of leaving, he had to do what he could to protect himself. No one else would, apparently.



“I can’t stay with you, Cain.” There was no heat in her voice this time, only a sadness that ran so deep, he wondered how it didn’t split her in two.



Once again he tried to break through the barrier she’d erected. It was weaker than it had been, so thin, he could feel her presence gliding just on the other side. He needed to feel that again, to wrap himself in her very essence and revel in the goodness that shone out from her soul.



She was hurting so much right now. If only he could break through, he knew he could ease her.



Cain needed that. Instincts and his desire to make her happy drove him on, forcing him to prod more heavily at the barrier.



“What are you doing?” she asked.



“My job. You’ve seen through me the way things are supposed to be between us. You may not believe that you could ever want that, but I do. I’ve seen the power and joy that comes from what you and I could have. And I’m willing to fight for it. For you.”



The barrier shattered. Rory gasped and swayed. Cain grabbed her arms as he dove through their link, letting all that she was surround him.



Fear screamed through her, so loud it nearly brought him to his knees. She was terrified of leaving, of being blind and on her own, but that fear paled in comparison to her worry that he would die. Right after she’d grown to love him.



The idea that she even thought she could love him was a heady, intoxicating thrill. It was more than he expected, no matter how much he’d secretly hoped that it was possible. She’d seen his failings, his mistakes. She’d seen how he’d let Sibyl be taken, and yet she held none of that against him. All of her thoughts were of protecting herself from his inevitable death.



She’d pictured the possible scenarios over and over, in an array of bloody, violent ends. It was jarring to witness his own death, but the emotions surrounding the events were what shocked him the most. She already grieved for him on some level. Which meant that she’d already come to care for him on some level.



Cain let that hope buoy him up and fill him with a renewed strength of purpose. She couldn’t walk around with this kind of fear clawing at her insides. It would weaken her, make her hesitate. It could even get her killed.



He would not allow that to happen. His vow to protect her gave him the permission he needed to help her. If she was angry at what he was about to do, so be it.



She hated feeling afraid, so he took control of her fears, of each bloody event and changed them, showing her another possibility. When the claws of countless demons tore him apart, he showed her an image of her power shielding him from the blows. When poison riddled his body, he let her see herself driving it from his veins. When fire charred his flesh, he made her watch as she called a torrent of rain to fall over the flames, dousing them before they could so much as singe his hair. With each defeat, he gave her victory, and with each victory, he felt her swell and strengthen.



Finally, when the last of her bloody nightmares was destroyed, he let go of her thoughts. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her completely for fear that she’d block him out again. And because he liked lingering within her too much.



She stared up at him, her dark eyes huge with disbelief. “You really see me like that?”



“I do.”



Her mouth quivered as if she were seeking the right words. “No one has ever seen me like that before—strong, capable. No one has ever really seen me at all. Not since Nana.”



“I see you. Inside and out.”



“And you still want me to hang around?”



The words that tickled the end of his tongue were desperate, needy things. He wanted so much from her—things he didn’t dare ask for. He’d been so lost before he’d met her, empty of hope. And now he was filled with it, with purpose. He knew she wouldn’t understand how he felt. She wasn’t raised as one of them. She wasn’t taught what to expect of their bond, or how it was designed to function. How both of them needed that connection, how they were made for it.



All of those things would make him sound like some kind of desperate, groveling weakling, and he didn’t want her to see that in him. She loathed weakness in herself, and he assumed the dislike would carry through to him as well.



So instead of pouring out his deepest, darkest desires, he simply said, “I do.”



Rory’s hand settled on the side of his face as she stared into his eyes. He could feel sparks igniting beneath the pad of each finger. The slight trembling of her hand made his protective instincts roil beneath the surface. He fought them, holding perfectly still so as not to scare her away. She was teetering on the brink of a decision, and as much as he wanted to tip the balance, he didn’t dare. There was no guarantee of which way she’d fall.



Her feet slid closer to his, nudging his bare toes. The scent of her skin curled around him, forcing him to combat his visceral reaction to her nearness. The tips of her breasts brushed across his chest, and it was all he could do not to strip out of the robe to feel her more fully. Even through the thick terry cloth and her clothing, he could still feel her hardened nipples graze over him.



A pretty pink flush swept over her face, but he couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or arousal. The need to know dug at him, driving him to seek out what she was feeling.



A hint of anxiety. Curiosity. Excitement.



Desire.



It was a fluttering, fragile wisp of a feeling, but it grew brighter as she continued to stare.



Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She wet her lips with her tongue. The memory of their kiss flared bright in her mind, casting a blinding light over everything else.



Her fingers tightened on his skin. She lifted up on tiptoe, bringing her mouth closer to his.



Lust thrummed through him, but that was nothing new when Rory was near. He was unable to stop his cock from swelling, but that didn’t mean he’d do anything about it. He was a patient man. He could wait as long as it took for his skittish little Rory to make up her mind.



A moment later, he felt her decision shift and solidify, taking on the rigid shape of determination.



Cain needed no further encouragement. Her decision was made. She wanted this. She wanted him.



He lowered his head, meeting her mouth halfway. The first contact drove the breath from his chest as searing sensations lanced through him, pinning him in place. Her lips parted on a sigh, and he wasted no time taking advantage of the opportunity to taste her again.



Fire and sugar. Sweet and hot. She went to his head, ridding him of the need to think. There was no space between them for worry or fear or guilt, only the heady swirl of complete and total rightness.



This was how things were supposed to be, and everything Theronai inside of him stood up and roared in victory.



Her mouth was fierce and demanding against his. Her fingers slipped under the robe, parting it. Her hands went seeking beneath the fabric, shoving it open as she went.



He wore nothing beneath it but his need for her, which was rampant and obvious. His erection jutted up between them, throbbing in an effort to get closer. Her hands wrapped around him, shoving out a hiss of pleasure from between his teeth.



No woman had touched him like this for centuries, and even then he wasn’t sure that any woman had ever touched him the way Rory did—like she knew just what he liked and how to give it to him.



There was no hesitation in her grip, no timidity. She stroked his length, spreading the slick heat that welled up from him.



Cain covered her hands to stop her before he came. She went still and stared at him with a witchy little grin.