Into the Fire
Page 48
“I know you’re upset,” I said, going over to him. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep yourself closed off. You need to stop. This is the ‘for worse’ part of our wedding vows, and I signed up for that, too. If we’re going to get through this, we need to do it together.”
“You think you want me to tell you what I’m feeling, but you don’t.” As he spoke, green rolled over his gaze. “Still, since you keep insisting, fine. More than anything else, I feel relieved.”
I gasped in surprise at that, and his mouth twisted.
“I don’t expect you to understand because you’ve never killed anyone except in self-defense. It’s very different to take a life when you don’t have your own survival as motivation. Take away anger or revenge as motivating factors, too, and it’s not only different, it can be difficult. Add in truly caring for the person, and it’s not only difficult; it takes a special degree of coldness that most people don’t have. I have that coldness, Leila. I’ve had it for centuries, and time has taught me that when I have to do something necessary yet unpleasant, it’s best to get it over with as soon as possible.”
Then his voice roughened and he began to pace again.
“Yet that’s not why I’m relieved that this part is over with. It’s also not why I was in such a hurry both to leave and then to come back. It was because every hour that I was away from you, I knew you could be tortured or worse in order to incentivize me to do as Mircea’s captors ordered. That is why what I feel most now is relief. I can see with my own eyes that you are unharmed, and my relief over that supersedes everything else, including any feelings I might have for a lost friend.”
I was openmouthed as I processed all of this. My turbulent emotions must have shown on my face because he let out a derisive snort.
“As I said, you didn’t really want to know what I was feeling. Perhaps next time, you’ll simply take my word for it.”
Chapter 28
“No,” I whispered. “It’s the truth, so no matter what, I want it.”
“Oh?” He whirled, yanking me to him, his hands as hot as brands on my back. “What about this truth? I only care about keeping you safe, no matter who I have to kill. Yet that kind of selfishness makes me the very monster that my enemies have often accused me of being, so did you truly want to know this about me?”
Just as quickly, he shoved me away, his mouth curling with a cruelness that belied the flood of emotions that were starting to break down his walls. “Or instead, are you as horrified as I knew you would be when I tried to spare you this knowledge?”
I stared at him, trying and failing to articulate my thoughts through my own storm of emotions. No, I wasn’t horrified by his brutally practical mindset when it came to killing Samir. I should have realized the same hardness that had allowed Vlad to overcome centuries of tragedy would also keep him from being crippled by grief now, even if he would mourn Samir later, as he’d implied.
But I was afraid of what this meant for Gretchen. Vlad had just confirmed my worst suspicions about what he’d do if he knew I could transfer the spell onto her. He’d see it as my life versus Gretchen’s, and to him, the choice would be obvious.
But if we found Mircea, we could all win, and now we had a real chance of doing that. All I had to do was keep Vlad from finding out about the spell transfer option in the meantime. Once we had Mircea safely away from his captors, I’d tell Vlad, but until then . . .
I went over to him, moving with deliberate slowness so he could read the emotion in my eyes when I spoke.
“I told you before; I know you’re the dragon instead of the knight. And I don’t care. At your best or at your worst, I will always love you, Vlad.” I slipped my arms around him and stood on tiptoe so my face was closer to his. “If you can’t grieve for Samir until this is over, then I’ll grieve him enough for both of us, but no matter what, I’ll never stop loving you.”
He bent down, bridging those last few inches between us. “Good,” he growled against my lips. “Because I refuse to live without you.”
He kissed me, hard, hungry, and demanding. At the same time, all his walls dropped and the instant crush of his full, unfiltered emotions would’ve made me stumble if his arms weren’t around me. Relief and rage, lust and love, desperation and need, bitterness and vengeance; all of it flooded into me, until I felt like I was drowning beneath the deluge.
I kissed him back, suddenly clawing at his clothes with an urgency that might have been mine or his. I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I needed him, couldn’t stand to wait a minute longer to feel his skin on mine, or to have our bodies be as fully entwined as our emotions now were.
Very soon, I was naked on the bed, the bare, scorching length of his body on top of mine. I was too consumed with desire to stand a delay, so I opened my legs with more demand than invitation. He moaned into my mouth as I rubbed against him, inciting him to lose the last of his control.
He did, gripping my hips while a deep thrust tore a cry from me. I held him tighter, arching against him for more despite the quicksilver flash of pain from his size and our lack of foreplay. Still, that was nothing compared to the rapturous burn of feeling him inside me, or the jolt that seared my most sensitive nerve endings when he erotically ground against my clitoris after fully sheathing himself within my depths.
My nails raked down his back as I arched harder against him. He made a low, guttural noise and lifted me, drawing all the way out before thrusting forward to penetrate even deeper. The sharp intensity of the pleasure made sparks spring up like beads of sweat on my skin, and he laughed with dark sensuality when he saw them.
“You think you want me to tell you what I’m feeling, but you don’t.” As he spoke, green rolled over his gaze. “Still, since you keep insisting, fine. More than anything else, I feel relieved.”
I gasped in surprise at that, and his mouth twisted.
“I don’t expect you to understand because you’ve never killed anyone except in self-defense. It’s very different to take a life when you don’t have your own survival as motivation. Take away anger or revenge as motivating factors, too, and it’s not only different, it can be difficult. Add in truly caring for the person, and it’s not only difficult; it takes a special degree of coldness that most people don’t have. I have that coldness, Leila. I’ve had it for centuries, and time has taught me that when I have to do something necessary yet unpleasant, it’s best to get it over with as soon as possible.”
Then his voice roughened and he began to pace again.
“Yet that’s not why I’m relieved that this part is over with. It’s also not why I was in such a hurry both to leave and then to come back. It was because every hour that I was away from you, I knew you could be tortured or worse in order to incentivize me to do as Mircea’s captors ordered. That is why what I feel most now is relief. I can see with my own eyes that you are unharmed, and my relief over that supersedes everything else, including any feelings I might have for a lost friend.”
I was openmouthed as I processed all of this. My turbulent emotions must have shown on my face because he let out a derisive snort.
“As I said, you didn’t really want to know what I was feeling. Perhaps next time, you’ll simply take my word for it.”
Chapter 28
“No,” I whispered. “It’s the truth, so no matter what, I want it.”
“Oh?” He whirled, yanking me to him, his hands as hot as brands on my back. “What about this truth? I only care about keeping you safe, no matter who I have to kill. Yet that kind of selfishness makes me the very monster that my enemies have often accused me of being, so did you truly want to know this about me?”
Just as quickly, he shoved me away, his mouth curling with a cruelness that belied the flood of emotions that were starting to break down his walls. “Or instead, are you as horrified as I knew you would be when I tried to spare you this knowledge?”
I stared at him, trying and failing to articulate my thoughts through my own storm of emotions. No, I wasn’t horrified by his brutally practical mindset when it came to killing Samir. I should have realized the same hardness that had allowed Vlad to overcome centuries of tragedy would also keep him from being crippled by grief now, even if he would mourn Samir later, as he’d implied.
But I was afraid of what this meant for Gretchen. Vlad had just confirmed my worst suspicions about what he’d do if he knew I could transfer the spell onto her. He’d see it as my life versus Gretchen’s, and to him, the choice would be obvious.
But if we found Mircea, we could all win, and now we had a real chance of doing that. All I had to do was keep Vlad from finding out about the spell transfer option in the meantime. Once we had Mircea safely away from his captors, I’d tell Vlad, but until then . . .
I went over to him, moving with deliberate slowness so he could read the emotion in my eyes when I spoke.
“I told you before; I know you’re the dragon instead of the knight. And I don’t care. At your best or at your worst, I will always love you, Vlad.” I slipped my arms around him and stood on tiptoe so my face was closer to his. “If you can’t grieve for Samir until this is over, then I’ll grieve him enough for both of us, but no matter what, I’ll never stop loving you.”
He bent down, bridging those last few inches between us. “Good,” he growled against my lips. “Because I refuse to live without you.”
He kissed me, hard, hungry, and demanding. At the same time, all his walls dropped and the instant crush of his full, unfiltered emotions would’ve made me stumble if his arms weren’t around me. Relief and rage, lust and love, desperation and need, bitterness and vengeance; all of it flooded into me, until I felt like I was drowning beneath the deluge.
I kissed him back, suddenly clawing at his clothes with an urgency that might have been mine or his. I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I needed him, couldn’t stand to wait a minute longer to feel his skin on mine, or to have our bodies be as fully entwined as our emotions now were.
Very soon, I was naked on the bed, the bare, scorching length of his body on top of mine. I was too consumed with desire to stand a delay, so I opened my legs with more demand than invitation. He moaned into my mouth as I rubbed against him, inciting him to lose the last of his control.
He did, gripping my hips while a deep thrust tore a cry from me. I held him tighter, arching against him for more despite the quicksilver flash of pain from his size and our lack of foreplay. Still, that was nothing compared to the rapturous burn of feeling him inside me, or the jolt that seared my most sensitive nerve endings when he erotically ground against my clitoris after fully sheathing himself within my depths.
My nails raked down his back as I arched harder against him. He made a low, guttural noise and lifted me, drawing all the way out before thrusting forward to penetrate even deeper. The sharp intensity of the pleasure made sparks spring up like beads of sweat on my skin, and he laughed with dark sensuality when he saw them.
