penetrating, demanding elaboration… the truth, everything .
She swallowed, words choking her. Shaking her head, she looked away, blinking suddenly stinging eyes, unwilling to bare herself to him.
The past was her burden. She’d never spoken of it… never shared it with anyone. Not in all this time. But then, who would she share such a horrible memory with? Who cared enough to want to know? There was no one. There had never been anyone in all these years.
“It was Etienne Marshan,” she heard herself begin, her voice a whisper.
Impossible as it seemed, his silver eyes brightened. Of course he recognized the name. “The first lycan… the one you cursed?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “He was my liege lord. He bound me, weighed me down with chains and stones.” She drew a deep breath. “And then he drowned me.” She could almost taste the dark river water again, feel it gagging her, blacking out her world.
Darius gazed at her, unblinking. “He tried to kill you?”
“He did kill me,” she retorted. “I died that day. My heart. My body.” She thrummed her fingertips against her mouth, nervous energy zipping through her as she recalled that day… that nightmare she relived whenever she allowed herself to remember. Which wasn’t often.
But she relived it again right now, sharing it with Darius. She didn’t understand why she was telling him this, only that it felt right. She needed him to understand. Needed him to know why she couldn’t be restrained again. Also… she needed him to understand that she wasn’t what he thought. She was more.
He watched her with his piercing gaze, waiting for her to continue. She moistened her lips. His gaze lowered, fixing on her mouth with an intensity that made her skin tighten.
“He murdered me alongside my family that day. When Balthazar promised me vengeance, I took it. With my last dying breath, I tookit. I didn’t realize what it would mean… what he would do.” She laughed brokenly, bitterness welling up inside her. “Demons are tricky that way. He caught me at my weakest moment. I wasn’t in a position to read the fine print. I just wanted to make Marshan pay.”
She released her breath and dropped her gaze to the cuffs he held in his hand. He didn’t move toward her. His legs stayed braced squarely in front of her. She held herself tightly, waiting for the cold steel to circle her wrists.
It never happened.
He touched her chin with his fingers, lifting her face with that gentle contact. His expression was inscrutable, the sharp angles and carved lines revealing nothing.
Everything, her entire world in that moment, centered on his hand on her face. The brush of his fingers against her skin. How long since she had felt the touch of another? Tenderness?
She blinked as he slid his hand away, telling herself it couldn’t have been gentleness. He hated her. He wanted her dead. Wanted her to pay, to suffer. She was his Etienne Marshan.
And she could not fault him for that.
After a long moment, he tossed the cuffs on the bed and moved into the bathroom without a word, shutting the door.
Alone, she stared at the handcuffs and then the closed bathroom door, marveling that he’d decided to trust her.
She pushed from the wall and turned off the suite’s overhead light. Next, she flipped on the small desk lamp. A dull circle of light glowed from beneath the shade.
Tugging back the covers, she slid into the bed nearest the window, positioning her back to the bathroom so she didn’t have to see him when he emerged. For some reason, she couldn’t stop shivering.
Several minutes passed and she heard the water shut off. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep. A few moments later, the door opened. That fresh, warm-water smell swept inside the room. She inhaled, catching his clean, soapy scent. Beneath that was the inherent, intoxicating male musk of him. Her chest swelled with a deep breath.
His movements were silent and her back itched, tingled,
She swallowed, words choking her. Shaking her head, she looked away, blinking suddenly stinging eyes, unwilling to bare herself to him.
The past was her burden. She’d never spoken of it… never shared it with anyone. Not in all this time. But then, who would she share such a horrible memory with? Who cared enough to want to know? There was no one. There had never been anyone in all these years.
“It was Etienne Marshan,” she heard herself begin, her voice a whisper.
Impossible as it seemed, his silver eyes brightened. Of course he recognized the name. “The first lycan… the one you cursed?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “He was my liege lord. He bound me, weighed me down with chains and stones.” She drew a deep breath. “And then he drowned me.” She could almost taste the dark river water again, feel it gagging her, blacking out her world.
Darius gazed at her, unblinking. “He tried to kill you?”
“He did kill me,” she retorted. “I died that day. My heart. My body.” She thrummed her fingertips against her mouth, nervous energy zipping through her as she recalled that day… that nightmare she relived whenever she allowed herself to remember. Which wasn’t often.
But she relived it again right now, sharing it with Darius. She didn’t understand why she was telling him this, only that it felt right. She needed him to understand. Needed him to know why she couldn’t be restrained again. Also… she needed him to understand that she wasn’t what he thought. She was more.
He watched her with his piercing gaze, waiting for her to continue. She moistened her lips. His gaze lowered, fixing on her mouth with an intensity that made her skin tighten.
“He murdered me alongside my family that day. When Balthazar promised me vengeance, I took it. With my last dying breath, I tookit. I didn’t realize what it would mean… what he would do.” She laughed brokenly, bitterness welling up inside her. “Demons are tricky that way. He caught me at my weakest moment. I wasn’t in a position to read the fine print. I just wanted to make Marshan pay.”
She released her breath and dropped her gaze to the cuffs he held in his hand. He didn’t move toward her. His legs stayed braced squarely in front of her. She held herself tightly, waiting for the cold steel to circle her wrists.
It never happened.
He touched her chin with his fingers, lifting her face with that gentle contact. His expression was inscrutable, the sharp angles and carved lines revealing nothing.
Everything, her entire world in that moment, centered on his hand on her face. The brush of his fingers against her skin. How long since she had felt the touch of another? Tenderness?
She blinked as he slid his hand away, telling herself it couldn’t have been gentleness. He hated her. He wanted her dead. Wanted her to pay, to suffer. She was his Etienne Marshan.
And she could not fault him for that.
After a long moment, he tossed the cuffs on the bed and moved into the bathroom without a word, shutting the door.
Alone, she stared at the handcuffs and then the closed bathroom door, marveling that he’d decided to trust her.
She pushed from the wall and turned off the suite’s overhead light. Next, she flipped on the small desk lamp. A dull circle of light glowed from beneath the shade.
Tugging back the covers, she slid into the bed nearest the window, positioning her back to the bathroom so she didn’t have to see him when he emerged. For some reason, she couldn’t stop shivering.
Several minutes passed and she heard the water shut off. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep. A few moments later, the door opened. That fresh, warm-water smell swept inside the room. She inhaled, catching his clean, soapy scent. Beneath that was the inherent, intoxicating male musk of him. Her chest swelled with a deep breath.
His movements were silent and her back itched, tingled,
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