evidence?
Jesus.
I cupped her face harder, squeezing until life surfaced in
her eyes. “Tell me what happened, babe.”
She shook her head and looked up at me with hatred. “Agency
hunters. They came for me—killed two of the Fenrir. Eiven and his boys,” she
swallowed, “they did the rest…I didn’t kill him but I should have. I didn’t…” Her
voice trailed off.
“Shit.” I grabbed her arm and drew her along behind me, into
the house.
I pulled her up the stairs, down one hallway then another,
navigating the maze with ease. In the safety of our room, I closed and locked
the door behind me.
Ella strode for the connected bathroom and toed off her
shoes without bothering with light switches. Her guilt whipped through me.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, cutting through the splattering of dried blood
that painted her skin. She stepped into the large glass shower stall fully
clothed and twisted the faucet to the coldest setting. After weeks of holding
everything inside, had my girl finally lost it?
Wake her the fuck up.
“Babe.” I grabbed her arm to pull her out of the way before
the full blast of water came, but she yanked free of my hold.
The full force of the icy water hit her, the echoing din
eclipsing her gasp of shock. She sputtered under the torrential spray drenching
her from the dual front and back showerheads. She pressed both hands against
the slick mosaic wall and arched her back, tipping her face up and inviting
more water to hit her.
“Ella.” I tried again, the ice-cold water soaking through my
shirt and making the fabric stick to my skin.
“Don’t,” she whispered and shook off my touch.
Pink water dripped from her face and clothes, swirling down
the small brass grate in the center of the shower’s floor. Ella leaned forward
and rested her forehead against the wall to stare at it.
“There’s so much blood.” Her voice cracked with such a
confused jumble of emotion it broke my heart. “They’re all dead, all because of
me. Everything I touch dies.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Fully clothed, I stepped under the spray
and gathered her close.
“The darkness inside me is growing and I can’t see what’s
right anymore.”
Didn’t she know I’d always be her light? “You aren’t alone.”
She was limp in my arms, so unlike the fierce huntress I’d
grown to love. I cupped the back of her head and forced her nose to my throat.
In my arms she was tiny and delicate. Under her small packaging lay a strength
I couldn’t comprehend. I felt like an asshole for the way I’d talked to her at
the hospital, but it needed to be said. I needed my Ella back.
The raining water mixed with her tears. I held her closer,
wishing I could take away her pain—wishing I knew how to fix her problems.
I’d been so consumed with plotting Richard’s death that I
hadn’t been paying attention to how out of control the situation had become.
Eli was right—I had been ignoring her. Pushing her away. I’d made everything
worse.
She shivered against me, the subtle chattering of her teeth
enough for me to pull myself together. I reached to the side and twisted the knob,
adjusting the frosty temperature to hot.
As the water gradually heated, I lifted the bottom of her
shirt and pulled it up, over her head. The material splattered to the ground
where I dropped it. Methodically, one article at a time, I took off her wrist
sheaths and knives before starting on her pants. Once I was done, I hurried to
get off my own and added them to the sodden pile of weapons and clothes on the
bathroom floor.
Through the steam billowing around us, I drank her in. Her
vacant eyes were haunted and shadowed with bruise-like circles. Dark hair
streamed over her shoulders, long enough to cover her tits and tease me with
glimpses of her nipples. The cuts and bruises showing starkly on her pale skin
healed before my eyes, leaving nothing but unblemished porcelain in its wake.
Water ran between her high, firm breasts, down
Jesus.
I cupped her face harder, squeezing until life surfaced in
her eyes. “Tell me what happened, babe.”
She shook her head and looked up at me with hatred. “Agency
hunters. They came for me—killed two of the Fenrir. Eiven and his boys,” she
swallowed, “they did the rest…I didn’t kill him but I should have. I didn’t…” Her
voice trailed off.
“Shit.” I grabbed her arm and drew her along behind me, into
the house.
I pulled her up the stairs, down one hallway then another,
navigating the maze with ease. In the safety of our room, I closed and locked
the door behind me.
Ella strode for the connected bathroom and toed off her
shoes without bothering with light switches. Her guilt whipped through me.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, cutting through the splattering of dried blood
that painted her skin. She stepped into the large glass shower stall fully
clothed and twisted the faucet to the coldest setting. After weeks of holding
everything inside, had my girl finally lost it?
Wake her the fuck up.
“Babe.” I grabbed her arm to pull her out of the way before
the full blast of water came, but she yanked free of my hold.
The full force of the icy water hit her, the echoing din
eclipsing her gasp of shock. She sputtered under the torrential spray drenching
her from the dual front and back showerheads. She pressed both hands against
the slick mosaic wall and arched her back, tipping her face up and inviting
more water to hit her.
“Ella.” I tried again, the ice-cold water soaking through my
shirt and making the fabric stick to my skin.
“Don’t,” she whispered and shook off my touch.
Pink water dripped from her face and clothes, swirling down
the small brass grate in the center of the shower’s floor. Ella leaned forward
and rested her forehead against the wall to stare at it.
“There’s so much blood.” Her voice cracked with such a
confused jumble of emotion it broke my heart. “They’re all dead, all because of
me. Everything I touch dies.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Fully clothed, I stepped under the spray
and gathered her close.
“The darkness inside me is growing and I can’t see what’s
right anymore.”
Didn’t she know I’d always be her light? “You aren’t alone.”
She was limp in my arms, so unlike the fierce huntress I’d
grown to love. I cupped the back of her head and forced her nose to my throat.
In my arms she was tiny and delicate. Under her small packaging lay a strength
I couldn’t comprehend. I felt like an asshole for the way I’d talked to her at
the hospital, but it needed to be said. I needed my Ella back.
The raining water mixed with her tears. I held her closer,
wishing I could take away her pain—wishing I knew how to fix her problems.
I’d been so consumed with plotting Richard’s death that I
hadn’t been paying attention to how out of control the situation had become.
Eli was right—I had been ignoring her. Pushing her away. I’d made everything
worse.
She shivered against me, the subtle chattering of her teeth
enough for me to pull myself together. I reached to the side and twisted the knob,
adjusting the frosty temperature to hot.
As the water gradually heated, I lifted the bottom of her
shirt and pulled it up, over her head. The material splattered to the ground
where I dropped it. Methodically, one article at a time, I took off her wrist
sheaths and knives before starting on her pants. Once I was done, I hurried to
get off my own and added them to the sodden pile of weapons and clothes on the
bathroom floor.
Through the steam billowing around us, I drank her in. Her
vacant eyes were haunted and shadowed with bruise-like circles. Dark hair
streamed over her shoulders, long enough to cover her tits and tease me with
glimpses of her nipples. The cuts and bruises showing starkly on her pale skin
healed before my eyes, leaving nothing but unblemished porcelain in its wake.
Water ran between her high, firm breasts, down
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