The Darkest Craving

“She was bound by rope, nothing more, and I somehow managed to cut her loose,” Anya said drily. “Imagine my surprise.”



William had tried to trick him, just to gain possession of the ring. Kane wanted to care. He didn’t care. His gaze remained locked with Tink’s. She approached him. A second later, they were running at each other. She threw herself in his arms, and he spun her around.



“Told you I’d be here by morning,” he whispered.



“Thank you.”



“Welcome.” Now, he could get her out of here. Couldn’t tolerate another minute inside these jagged walls. “We need to—”



“Disaster,” a female screeched in the distance. “Disaster is here!”



“Where? Where is he? I must have him!”



Every muscle Kane possessed knotted. The minions had sensed him. The minions...the minions who had...had...NO! Sickness returned to his stomach, churning viciously. The females wanted to bind him and cut away his clothing. They wanted to touch him and taste him and steal his seed.



They’ll have you, Disaster said with a laugh. Over and over again.



Going to vomit.



“And now it’s time to bail.” William unsheathed a Sig Sauer from the waist of his pants. “I can only flash myself. Lucien, you take care of the others.”



Lucien nodded and flashed a protesting Anya to safety. He reappeared a few seconds later, grabbed a now trembling Kane and Tink, and flashed them away, too. The last thing Kane saw was William running forward, grinning with delight. And when he next blinked, he was standing inside the walls of the fortress he’d never thought to revisit, once again barely able to breathe.



CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE



The Realm of Blood and Shadows



JOSEPHINA TOOK IN as much of the fortress as possible as Kane dragged her down a hall and up a flight of stairs. “I almost can’t believe I’m in your home. I mean, I’m actually in your home. I’m living every Fae woman’s dream.”



The portraits on the walls caught her attention. Each contained a Lord of the Underworld in the buff, his manhood shielded by something feminine. A ribbon. A teddy bear. A scrap of lace. Then there were the portraits of the delicate blonde, the epitome of what Fae males found attractive. In one, she wore a ball gown. In another, a negligee. In yet another, black leather.



“She’s pretty,” Josephina said, trying not to compare herself to the beauty. “Does she belong to one of your friends?”



“No.”



The sharpness of his tone startled her. She studied the stiffness of his back, the jerkiness of his stride. “Kane? Is everything all right?”



He ignored her. He even ignored the people they passed.



“Kane, is that really you?” said a male with black hair and violet eyes. Josephina recognized the infamous keeper of Violence. He was close enough to touch.



A baby girl was cradled in his arms. Oh, sweet mercy, he had a child? Why had the scribes not delivered such a juicy tidbit?



Silent, Kane dragged her past the pair.



“So wonderful to meet you,” she called. “I’m Josephina, and I absolutely love—”



Kane jerked her around the corner.



“What are you doing here? I thought you were on your honeymoon,” said Strider, coming out of a bedroom.



“So lovely to see you again,” Josephina called.



A petite redheaded lovely moved to his side, and she elbowed him in the stomach.



“What’d I do now, baby doll?” Strider asked with a grimace.



“Honeymoon?” the redhead said with a stomp of her foot. “He got married and you didn’t think to tell me?”



“Hey, Paris and Torin wouldn’t happen to be here, would they?” Josephina asked Strider. “I might die of a heart attack, but it would be worth it—”



Kane pulled her in front of him, and slapped his hand over her mouth. “That’s enough out of you.”



He stopped her in front of a door. A bedroom, she realized when he got her inside. He released her and shut them both in. Awed, she drank in every nook and cranny. The chamber was spacious, with distressed walls of stone and a cracked marble floor. The furniture was antique, worn but chic. There were no pictures, though, no personal touches of any kind.



“I need to—” Kane scrubbed a hand down his face. “I...need to go,” he said, his gaze anywhere but on her.



She spun to face him. “You’re leaving me?”



“I’ll be back,” he rushed to add. “And I’ll introduce you to everyone. I’ll give you a tour. Whatever you want.”



“I want...you.”



She was no longer the passive girl he’d first met. She’d been through too much, had survived too much. They’d survived. She’d decided to stand up for her rights, and that hadn’t changed. She would fight for what she wanted, would even fight Kane himself. “What’s going on, Kane? What’s wrong with you? Tell me. Don’t push me aside. Not this time.”



“My head’s messed up,” he said in a tortured voice. “The weeks in hell...the demons...”



“I’m so sorry. I should have realized.” She closed the distance between them, placed her palms on his chest. His heart drummed fast and erratic. Being there had reminded him of all he’d endured, and yet still he’d come for her. Such a precious man. My man. “Let me help you. Please.”



“I... Yes. Okay.” He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her across the mattress, then snuggled up beside her.



“Talk to me. Purge the poison.”



A moment passed. Then another.



Then, “I don’t know if you know this,” he said quietly, “but it’s possible for a woman to arouse a man’s body, even if he doesn’t want the woman herself. That’s how, when I was trapped in hell, countless minions were able to...do things to me. It was far worse than I led you to believe. It was one female after another, their hands and mouths everywhere, as they tried to steal my seed. They wanted to have my babies, and I was rarely left alone. All the while, Disaster laughed. He’s laughing now. He loves every second of my pain and humiliation.”



“Oh, Kane.” Her poor, poor Kane. “It’s not your humiliation, darling. It’s Disaster’s. It’s the minions’. They alone carry the shame.”



“I could have fought harder.”



“Could you really?” she asked. “When you’re already stronger than any man I know?”



“I’m not,” he said with a shake of his head.



“Yes, you are, and today proves it. Despite everything you endured, you still came back for me.”



Against her cheek, she felt his heart skip a beat. “I did, didn’t I? But...when I heard the demons closing in, I felt sick and cowardly. I should have faced them. I should have destroyed them. And one day I will. But today, I only wanted to flee.”



And it had embarrassed his warrior soul, she realized. “Oh, Kane. Cowardliness has nothing to do with feeling, and everything to do with action. You acted despite everything. You are brave and valiant and worthy, and you had more to think about than vengeance. You had a woman you were trying to protect. You knew what the minions were capable of, and I bet you wanted me as far away from them as you could get me. Am I right?”



Only the slightest hesitation before he admitted, “Yes.” Then he rolled onto his side and buried his head into the hollow of her neck. Something warm dripped onto her skin. A...tear? His arms wrapped around her and held on tight, and another droplet splashed, and then another and another. Soon, Kane was sobbing, great, gut-wrenching sobs, tremors racking his entire body.



Her heart breaking for him, Josephina cooed at him and ran her fingers through the silk of his hair. How long had these tears been trapped inside? How long had his inner wounds festered?



A few moments after he quieted, he rolled to the side, removing his weight from her, and sagged against the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.



“Why?”



“I just acted like a wom—uh, a child.”



“Tears aren’t childish, silly. And they’re not reserved for women, thank you very much. You were wronged, you were hurt and you suffered greatly. You’re allowed to react.”



His fingers dusted along the line of her jaw. “Your wisdom humbles me.”



“I am amazingly smart.”



He chuckled, only to go quiet a second later. “They didn’t succeed, you know. I didn’t leave any of the minions pregnant.”



She was glad. He wouldn’t have survived that kind of connection to the Underworld.



Josephina sat up without ever breaking contact, and peered down at him. Whatever she’d meant to say was superseded by, “No fair. When I cry, I look like a hag who’s just left a boxing match. You look as beautiful as always.”



He offered her a slow, lazy smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”



“I think I’ve told you I consider you the incarnation of beautiful.” She tugged his shirt over his head.



“No, you told me I’m sexy. There’s a difference. And not that I’m complaining, but...what are you doing?”



“Remember when I told you I wanted to smother all your bad memories with good? Well, we’re starting today. Now.” His boots were the next to go, followed by his pants and underwear, leaving him totally and completely naked.



Josephina perused him unabashedly. Actually, beautiful and sexy were words too mild for him. He had muscle stacked upon muscle, and flawless bronze skin, all topped off by the butterfly tattoo on his hip.



She traced the jagged edges of the wings. “The artwork catches my attention every time.”



“Evil sometimes comes in a very pretty package.”



Very true. “You want to be rid of it. Of him.”



“More than anything.”



“Then we’ll find a way to make it happen.” She pressed her lips against his, feeding him a soft, sweet kiss. “Together, we can do anything. Now, grip the headboard.”