Moonglow

Page 41

She hugged him close. “Had I known, I would have waited for you. I wish I had done so with all my heart.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “I couldn’t bear it, Daisy, if you’d died. I don’t want to live in a world without your light. Letting my wolf free did not matter if it saved you.”
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time and he lifted his hand to slowly trace the contours of her face as if imprinting them in his mind.
“I love you.” He said it so simply, without reservation or shame. As though he’d said the words to her a thousand times.
It took her breath and shattered her heart.
The corner of his lips quirked in a repentant smile. “I should have told you before but I haven’t… I haven’t said the words in a long time.”
Quickly, she pressed a hand to his jaw, running her thumb across his bottom lip. “Hush.” Her insides were tearing apart. And it hurt. It hurt so badly, she thought she might wail. But she forced herself to say what she must. “Hush, Ian.”
She bent over and gave him a soft, quick kiss and almost sobbed. “You needn’t…” Her mouth wobbled, threatening to betray her, and she took another breath. “You needn’t feel obliged to say those things.”
He went utterly stiff against her, his expression recoiling as though he’d been struck. Daisy forged on, making herself speak quickly. See the deed done. “I know you care, Ian.”
“Care.” His voice was flat, his eyes narrowing. “Care? Obliged?”
He sat up full, and she drew away, sensing the inevitable explosion. But he wouldn’t let her go far. Strong hands whipped out to clasp her upper arms in an unbreakable grip. Her heart cracked at the pain swimming in his blue gaze.
“I tell you I love you. Words I vowed never to say to another again.” His fingers bit into her soft flesh. “And you think them spoken out of obligation?” His voice turned sharp, cutting. “Out of some warped need to… coddle you?”
“Ian,” she whispered, for her voice wouldn’t obey her any more than her heart would. “You’re hurting me.”
His eyes widened, and he let her go as if burned. With a curse, he jumped up, oblivious to his nakedness. “Aye, and you are hurting me,” he snapped. “Or are my feelings so unworthy as to not merit discussion?”
Daisy got to her feet. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they matter.”
“Oh?” His brows slashed upward. “I tell you I love you. And in turn, you spout utter rot. Do I mean nothing to you?”
“Yes!” Oh, but the walls were closing in on her, his questions making her too hot, too agitated. “I care for you as you care for me.”
“Care,” he snarled, tossing up a hand. His eyes flashed blue fire. “I’m beginning to hate that word ‘care.’ Fuck ‘care’!”
He paced toward her, gathering her in his arms again, his eyes wild but his touch careful now. “No more deflections, Daisy-Meg. It’s just you and me here. Tell me. Tell me why you cannot accept that I love you.” Doubt flickered in his troubled gaze. “Why you cannot say that you love me.”
She wrenched herself out of his embrace and stumbled back when he moved toward her. “Because you cannot love me. You should not,” Daisy shouted. “I am not for you, Ian Ranulf. I am mortal, if you remember. I will die.”
He flinched then. “Aye. Some days that’s all I think of, and it cuts me to the soul.”
She gasped, pressing a hand to her throbbing head. “And you ask me why I resist?”
“I know why you resist,” he retorted. “Why I resisted for as long as I did.” He took another step closer. “And I told you before, I’m willing to risk the pain to be with you, Daisy mine.” Ian’s expression darkened as he bore down on her. “Yesterday you were willing to try. Yesterday you agreed to become my wife.”
Yesterday her life was filled with hope. She wrenched herself out of his embrace and stumbled back. “Yesterday, I didn’t fully appreciate the reality of what we would be to each other.” She paced away from him and the look of betrayal and pain she’d put in his eyes. “I don’t want do this while you’re hurting. I don’t want to say these things now.”
“Then don’t say them!”
“Someone has to. I know how much it devastated you to lose Maccon.” Her stomach pitched as he winced. “And if we continue on this way, it will happen to you again.” She tried to touch him but he flinched away. Her hand curled into a fist as she let it drop. “I can be unselfish for once. I can do that much for you.”
The whites of his eyes were red and glassy as he glared at her. “You’re running away. Again.”
“Yes,” she said, backing away. “I will not be another regret, Ian. I cannot be the one to cause you pain when I die and leave you behind.” Pain lanced through the center of her skull, and she ground her teeth. “Love should not be the destruction of another. Talent was in the right. I make you weak, Ian. I cannot bear the thought of making you weak. Not you, the strongest man I’ve ever known.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his head cocked as if he were confused. But the clouds cleared, and he appeared almost angry.
“Christ.” He strode forward. His mouth took hers in an open, heady kiss that spoke of frustration and desperation. She gave as good as she got, sinking into him because this was the last time she could. On a groan, his kiss gentled, exploring, coaxing. And when they finally parted, he gazed down at her.
“You never made me weak,” he said, giving her a little shake. “You make me strong.” His big hands smoothed up her arms. “Just knowing you’re in this world makes me want to live in it, makes me want to fight.”
A small sob broke from her lips, and his gaze grew tender as he brushed a kiss along her temple. “No, my Daisy-Meg,” he said against her hair. “Never weak, but infinitely strong.”
Sunlight gilded the swells of his shoulders and turned the ends of his hair into bronze. When he spoke, his voice was clear and firm. “I would be a god with the power of your love. If I knew that I had it.”
He touched her cheek. “But I cannot do it alone. I cannot bow and scrape for each scrap, hoping you’ll see what I see in us. I won’t have you by default.” A small smile lifted his mouth. “Ah, but if you gave it to me freely, I swear on my soul I wouldn’t let it go to waste. With everything I am, I’d give it back to you in return. I’d keep ye, love ye till my last breath, lass.”
Softly, he kissed her. A promise. It was all she ever wanted. He was home, peace, and happiness. And it split her in two. A hole lay in her chest where her heart had been, and she felt as though it bled straight through her skin and onto her clothes. Everything in her turned cold, then hot. Why did he have to make it so hard? Why did he have to fight her? She wanted to kick and bite him for her pain, for his. So she turned from him.
Ian simply followed her with his head. “Tell me that you don’t love me, Daisy.” His chest heaved. “If that be the case, tell me and I’ll let you go.”
Tears leaked from her eyes, scalding her skin as they ran free. “I cannot.”
He exhaled with a deep shudder, his grip easing. “Then why—”
“I’m dying, Ian.”
The statement snapped like a whip, making his head rear back and his body tense. She closed her eyes on a sigh, defeat suddenly making her utterly weary.
“What—” He swallowed audibly.
“Maccon,” she croaked. “He bit me on the night he first attacked.” Quickly, she licked her dry lips. “I’ve had headaches, sore throats, dizzy spells… I found the sore yesterday morning. Archer confirmed it. I have syphilis.”
His frozen stance shattered with a burst of agitated movements.
“Where?” His hands were already fumbling with her gown.
“What does it matter—”
“Where!” He’d gone as white as chalk, his eyes awash with pain and denial. And it wrenched her heart anew.
Too tired to resist, she lifted up the thick fall of her hair to reveal the small, round sore. His fingers hovered just above it, shaking. He bit his bottom lip hard and gave one sharp shake of his head. “No.”
She forced herself to look him in the eyes. “I’m done for.”
“No.” He took a shallow breath. “There are treatments.”
At this, she allowed a small smile. “You know better than anyone how effective those treatments are, Ian. They’re almost worse than the disease.”
“I’ll care for you. You won’t be alone. We will find a cure. I swear it.”
“Ian… You know what lies in store. Pain, fevers, sores, deformity, madness. You said yourself that you would have helped Maccon go.”
“Because he was already more than half gone!” Ian gave her a little shake. “I will not do that to you, so don’t you f**king ask that of me, Daisy. Do not dare!”
She let him see the resolve in her eyes. “That existence is not life. I won’t do it, Ian. Do not ask me to become that.”
“No…” His expression crumpled. “No, Daisy, no.” A sob tore from him, and he buried his head in her hair. “I won’t let you. I can’t—”
She cradled him, cooing under her breath as he cried. His arms wrapped around her, a vise that wouldn’t let go as his lean frame shook. “Do not do this. Please. I can’t lose you, too.”
“No, love,” she managed. “Not now. There’s time yet.”
She let him undress her and helped him with his clothes, their kisses soft, silent, his hands shaking as he touched her everywhere, mapping the topography of her body and she his. His gloriously strong body that would never age, never grow ill. He was the miracle that she could never be as a human.
Slowly, they relearned each other. There, in the sanctuary of their bed, with him, his touch, his taste, she was timeless, eternal. She was whole. She held onto the feeling until he finally slept, his limbs entwined with hers.
Rest, however, eluded Daisy. Carefully, so as not to wake Ian, she slipped from the bed and went out onto the balcony. Moonlight turned her skin marble white. Staring down at her bare arms, she thought of her life. She had not lived it as she ought. A cold rage swept over her, and her hands shook. She had not taken control of her wants and needs. And now her chance for happiness would go to waste. Daisy bowed her head and struggled not to scream. But as her breathing slowed and calm descended, a thought swirled within her, tantalizing with possibility. She straightened. Could it work? Could she do it?
Ian did not stir when she came back inside and padded on silent feet into the dressing room. Anticipation and fear sent her blood to racing as she prepared to head out. Of the two emotions, fear was the greater. The unknown had always frightened Daisy, but she would face it now. She only prayed that Ian would understand when he learned what she had done.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Ian’s fist nearly broke through the front door of Archer House. He pummeled it with all the terror and pain that gripped his soul.
“Open up!” His shout ripped his throat raw. “Open, damn you!”
Before he could howl and shred the door to bits with his claws, it whipped open.
Miranda stood in shocked fury, her green eyes glinting. “Northrup, have you gone mad? You scared my butler into his closet—”
“Where is she?” He shook with the need to hold Daisy. Waiting only made his wolf whine and his muscles twitch.
The sight of Miranda blinking in confusion nearly brought him to his knees. He knew in his gut that she hadn’t a clue where Daisy had gone. He’d known the instant he’d woken up alone that Daisy had left for good.
Bile surged in his throat. His knees cracked hard against the flagstone. She was gone. He felt it, felt her soul slipping away from him and leaving him ice cold. Leaving him alone.
A hand touched his shoulder. “Ian,” Miranda whispered fiercely. “Where is my sister?”
Fury and despair had his fangs sinking into his lip and tasting blood. She’d given up. Quit on him. A keening cry tore through the air. He realized it was his.
Words felt like broken glass in his mouth. “She’s taken her own way out.”
Her footsteps echoed in the silence as Daisy walked slowly across the Waterloo Bridge. She was afraid. So very afraid and cold. It made her want to turn tail and run, back to Ian and his warmth. Wrapping her arms about her middle, she kept going. A thick fog had come up, shrouding the bridge in murky gray bunting, punctuated only by the ghostly glow of the gas lamps.
She would not think about him. About her family. Her life. Her step stuttered. Think about Maccon. What he’d become. Deformed. Grotesque. In agony. She shivered, her steps slowing.
The mad beating of her heart overshadowed the mournful wail of a foghorn and the clang of a buoy. Her lips trembled, her breath coming short.
I am afraid. I want to go home.
Her fingers curled around the cold, slick wood of a piling as she stepped onto the pier. Just beyond, the barge floated at anchor as if waiting for her to pay a call. What if he said no? What if she had to inhabit another body? Bile rose in her throat, threatening to let loose. Her muscles tensed as she moved to pull herself up. The water below her raced onward, making her dizzy.
Ian. What would he think? Would he understand that she had no other choice? Would he find her repugnant? Shame burned in her belly. On a cry, she tore away from the piling. “I cannot.”