then he heard it. A muffled sob. Gideon turned and tipped his forehead to the door, pressed his palm to the cold hard wood and closed his eyes once more. His entire body tightened with a different kind of need. A need he’d had precious little experience with. The need to comfort. The beast inside settled back on its haunches with a bewildered growl. No longer did it want to come out, no longer did it thirst for blood.
Instead, it trembled with…worry? Uncertainty? He could hardly fathom it.
He heard the bed give the slightest squeak as it accepted her meager weight. Her cries were a little louder now, but still muffled, as though smothered in a pillow. But he could hear them through the feathers and through the wood. He felt them in the black hole where his soul used to be. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Couldn’t hold her as he wanted, couldn’t soothe her with the touch of his hand, or the press of his lips. The sound of those muffled cries undid him.
Unable to take another second of those soft, heartbreaking sounds, he shimmered himself to the sanctuary of his den once more.
Chapter Six
One minute Maggie was sitting on the edge of the big bed, clutching a pillow as she bawled her heart out, her world falling apart around her ears. Damn Michael. The next instant, she was standing in the middle of Gideon’s den, feeling as if she’d just been dropped without warning from a cliff. Gasping, lightheaded, fighting down a wave of nausea, she staggered back a step.
Gideon stood a few steps away. He whirled to face her, shock registering on his handsome features. Before she realized she was still clutching the pillow, before she realized what was happening, she threw the pillow at his head with all her might.
“Stop doing that!” Maggie yelled.
The pillow caught him square in the face, and then fell to the floor. He didn’t even make any effort to catch it. She watched him glance down at his wrist, at a cuff identical to the one he’d tricked her into putting on before telling her there was no way to remove it. He looked back up at her with a distinctive look of alarm. But that alarm swiftly shifted. Determination and concentration etched his face.
Without warning, the room swirled and dissolved, and her stomach dropped once more. Another room wavered into focus. Maggie screamed and reached out for a high backed kitchen chair as her knees threatened to give way. She caught a fleeting glimpse of what looked like a kitchen, but before she could find purchase on the hardwood floor, before her fingers could grasp something solid for support, that vision wavered and was gone, replaced once again by Gideon’s den.
“No more,” she begged hoarsely. Gasping, arms wrapped tight around her middle, head bowed, Maggie fell to her knees as a merciless wave of dizziness swept through her. “Please, no more.”
Silence met her request, but they stayed in the same room, so she could only hope he’d heard her and decided to comply. When she finally risked glancing up, the sight of Gideon took her by surprise. He stood immobile, his arms stretched out to her, as if to pick her up, yet he didn’t touch her. Instead, he stared down at her as if she were some foreign creature he didn’t know how to handle. Utter anguish lined his expression.
Seeming to recall himself, he drew his arms back. Only then did something click into place with sudden clarity. In the entire time she’d been with him—granted not all that long in the grander scheme of things—he’d never, not one single time, ever touched her. When he’d given her the bracelet, he’d deliberately held it in a way so their fingers wouldn’t risk brushing. Even when he’d tied her to the chair, he’d not touched her skin with his. Not once.
Why not?
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice wooden, distracted.
“No, I’m not all right,” Maggie snapped as she pushed shakily to her feet. The room around her swayed. Quick as a flash, Gideon
Instead, it trembled with…worry? Uncertainty? He could hardly fathom it.
He heard the bed give the slightest squeak as it accepted her meager weight. Her cries were a little louder now, but still muffled, as though smothered in a pillow. But he could hear them through the feathers and through the wood. He felt them in the black hole where his soul used to be. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Couldn’t hold her as he wanted, couldn’t soothe her with the touch of his hand, or the press of his lips. The sound of those muffled cries undid him.
Unable to take another second of those soft, heartbreaking sounds, he shimmered himself to the sanctuary of his den once more.
Chapter Six
One minute Maggie was sitting on the edge of the big bed, clutching a pillow as she bawled her heart out, her world falling apart around her ears. Damn Michael. The next instant, she was standing in the middle of Gideon’s den, feeling as if she’d just been dropped without warning from a cliff. Gasping, lightheaded, fighting down a wave of nausea, she staggered back a step.
Gideon stood a few steps away. He whirled to face her, shock registering on his handsome features. Before she realized she was still clutching the pillow, before she realized what was happening, she threw the pillow at his head with all her might.
“Stop doing that!” Maggie yelled.
The pillow caught him square in the face, and then fell to the floor. He didn’t even make any effort to catch it. She watched him glance down at his wrist, at a cuff identical to the one he’d tricked her into putting on before telling her there was no way to remove it. He looked back up at her with a distinctive look of alarm. But that alarm swiftly shifted. Determination and concentration etched his face.
Without warning, the room swirled and dissolved, and her stomach dropped once more. Another room wavered into focus. Maggie screamed and reached out for a high backed kitchen chair as her knees threatened to give way. She caught a fleeting glimpse of what looked like a kitchen, but before she could find purchase on the hardwood floor, before her fingers could grasp something solid for support, that vision wavered and was gone, replaced once again by Gideon’s den.
“No more,” she begged hoarsely. Gasping, arms wrapped tight around her middle, head bowed, Maggie fell to her knees as a merciless wave of dizziness swept through her. “Please, no more.”
Silence met her request, but they stayed in the same room, so she could only hope he’d heard her and decided to comply. When she finally risked glancing up, the sight of Gideon took her by surprise. He stood immobile, his arms stretched out to her, as if to pick her up, yet he didn’t touch her. Instead, he stared down at her as if she were some foreign creature he didn’t know how to handle. Utter anguish lined his expression.
Seeming to recall himself, he drew his arms back. Only then did something click into place with sudden clarity. In the entire time she’d been with him—granted not all that long in the grander scheme of things—he’d never, not one single time, ever touched her. When he’d given her the bracelet, he’d deliberately held it in a way so their fingers wouldn’t risk brushing. Even when he’d tied her to the chair, he’d not touched her skin with his. Not once.
Why not?
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice wooden, distracted.
“No, I’m not all right,” Maggie snapped as she pushed shakily to her feet. The room around her swayed. Quick as a flash, Gideon
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