The Darkest Touch
Page 21
A life could change in a single heartbeat.
The entire world could change in a single heartbeat.
Hades was the dark prince she’d considered too handsome to resist, realizing too late he’d drugged her at every meal in an effort to keep her mind fogged so that her every decision could be easily manipulated. He hadn’t known the drugs were unnecessary, that she’d been as starved for affection as she’d been for food.
Oh, how that galled! What easy pickings she’d been. Desperate to hold on to him and make him happy. Only to be betrayed. Blindly believing everything he said. Willing to do anything he asked.
Never again! She’d learned her lesson. Decisions should never be based on emotion. Only logic. Otherwise mistakes were made.
And I’ve made a huge mistake with Torin, she realized. She’d hesitated to render the deathblow simply because he had a pretty face and made her insides sing with pleasure.
“Keeley,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
She blinked into focus, barking, “What?”
He smiled at her, his emerald eyes twinkling. He picked up the conversation as if it had never lagged. “Think of my pickle comment as an invitation. And you don’t want to hurt my feelings by refusing, do you? I think I read somewhere that royalty is bound by stricter forms of etiquette than us regular folks.”
How did he make her want to smile back at him rather than attack him? And why hadn’t he disarmed her and killed her while she’d been lost in her head? “This queen is going to refuse, etiquette be damned. She would prefer not to eat a pickle that comes with a side of typhoid.”
The sparkle faded, and she actually mourned its loss.
“Or does it come with a little black plague?” she forced herself to continue. “No? How about botulism? Lassa fever? Am I getting close?”
“Oh, you’re getting close all right,” he said. “To a smackdown you’ll never forget.”
“We both know the only one getting a smackdown today is you.”
“Talk, talk, talk.” He batted her arm out of the way, then grabbed her by the neck at the same time he hooked his leg behind her ankles, tripping her.
As she fell, she twisted to catch herself. But the next thing she knew, she was face-first in the dirt, gasping for breath, her arms locked behind her back.
A beat of stunned silence as she regained her bearings...and realized his hard body was pressed against her. She fought the decadence of the new position. No. The humiliation of the position.
“Would you call this a pickle?” he asked casually.
“I’d probably go with Mexican standoff,” she managed just as casually.
“Standoff implies both parties have the other in a precarious situation. With our current position, I’m not exactly feeling threatened.”
Heat radiated from him, enveloping her. And his scent...all that sandalwood and spice. All male. Her cells did that singing thing, her blood beginning to boil with desire.
I’m so sorry, Mari.
Must gain control.
“Let’s see if I can do something to alter your perspective.” She flashed behind him—nope. She remained in place. Why—realization crystalized suddenly. The brimstone! As long as it was embedded in his skin and he maintained a grip on her, she would be powerless against him...against everything.
Powerless...helpless. Flickers of panic, burning her chest.
Can’t be helpless. Not again.
She kicked her leg, her heel slamming into his backside.
“Be still,” he commanded.
Helpless...so helpless...soon imprisoned. Left in the dark, forced to eat the scourge of the earth, rotting in my own filth, dirty so dirty, hungry so hungry. Forgotten. No, no, no!
She bucked and she kicked and she flailed. Snowflakes poured from the sky, piling around them.
He tightened his hold. “Keeley. Stop.”
Have to get free. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder as he further tightened his hold, she fought her way to her back. Then he released her—yes!—but only long enough to grab both of her wrists and pin them over her head.
Snowflakes in his lashes, on his skin...on hers. Cold, so very cold. Helpless.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He bared his teeth, his scowl menacing...almost desperate. “Want to do things to you... Trying not to think about them... Not succeeding. Be still. Please, be still.”
“Let me go.” A plea formed, but she swallowed it back. She’d once begged Hades for her freedom, and he’d laughed at her. She wouldn’t give Torin the same opportunity. “Let me go!”
“Not until we’ve come to some sort of arrangement.”
She continued to struggle, gained no new ground. So helpless!
She couldn’t breathe, had to breathe. She wiggled her hips, bucked some more. When she attempted to wedge one of her legs between them and place her bare foot against his bare chest, he wrenched away just before contact.
Finally free.
She lay on the hard ground, sucking in precious air. “Th-thank you.”
He moved over her again, but this time he didn’t hold her down. Didn’t touch her in any way, so she didn’t fight him. He simply shielded her from the onslaught of snow, his features dark with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Strange question, coming from him.
Her heartbeat slowed, though her limbs grew heavier with every second that passed. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
Torin looked up at the sky, then down at her. The sky, her. He nodded, as if he’d just unraveled a mystery, and made to move away from her.
The entire world could change in a single heartbeat.
Hades was the dark prince she’d considered too handsome to resist, realizing too late he’d drugged her at every meal in an effort to keep her mind fogged so that her every decision could be easily manipulated. He hadn’t known the drugs were unnecessary, that she’d been as starved for affection as she’d been for food.
Oh, how that galled! What easy pickings she’d been. Desperate to hold on to him and make him happy. Only to be betrayed. Blindly believing everything he said. Willing to do anything he asked.
Never again! She’d learned her lesson. Decisions should never be based on emotion. Only logic. Otherwise mistakes were made.
And I’ve made a huge mistake with Torin, she realized. She’d hesitated to render the deathblow simply because he had a pretty face and made her insides sing with pleasure.
“Keeley,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
She blinked into focus, barking, “What?”
He smiled at her, his emerald eyes twinkling. He picked up the conversation as if it had never lagged. “Think of my pickle comment as an invitation. And you don’t want to hurt my feelings by refusing, do you? I think I read somewhere that royalty is bound by stricter forms of etiquette than us regular folks.”
How did he make her want to smile back at him rather than attack him? And why hadn’t he disarmed her and killed her while she’d been lost in her head? “This queen is going to refuse, etiquette be damned. She would prefer not to eat a pickle that comes with a side of typhoid.”
The sparkle faded, and she actually mourned its loss.
“Or does it come with a little black plague?” she forced herself to continue. “No? How about botulism? Lassa fever? Am I getting close?”
“Oh, you’re getting close all right,” he said. “To a smackdown you’ll never forget.”
“We both know the only one getting a smackdown today is you.”
“Talk, talk, talk.” He batted her arm out of the way, then grabbed her by the neck at the same time he hooked his leg behind her ankles, tripping her.
As she fell, she twisted to catch herself. But the next thing she knew, she was face-first in the dirt, gasping for breath, her arms locked behind her back.
A beat of stunned silence as she regained her bearings...and realized his hard body was pressed against her. She fought the decadence of the new position. No. The humiliation of the position.
“Would you call this a pickle?” he asked casually.
“I’d probably go with Mexican standoff,” she managed just as casually.
“Standoff implies both parties have the other in a precarious situation. With our current position, I’m not exactly feeling threatened.”
Heat radiated from him, enveloping her. And his scent...all that sandalwood and spice. All male. Her cells did that singing thing, her blood beginning to boil with desire.
I’m so sorry, Mari.
Must gain control.
“Let’s see if I can do something to alter your perspective.” She flashed behind him—nope. She remained in place. Why—realization crystalized suddenly. The brimstone! As long as it was embedded in his skin and he maintained a grip on her, she would be powerless against him...against everything.
Powerless...helpless. Flickers of panic, burning her chest.
Can’t be helpless. Not again.
She kicked her leg, her heel slamming into his backside.
“Be still,” he commanded.
Helpless...so helpless...soon imprisoned. Left in the dark, forced to eat the scourge of the earth, rotting in my own filth, dirty so dirty, hungry so hungry. Forgotten. No, no, no!
She bucked and she kicked and she flailed. Snowflakes poured from the sky, piling around them.
He tightened his hold. “Keeley. Stop.”
Have to get free. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder as he further tightened his hold, she fought her way to her back. Then he released her—yes!—but only long enough to grab both of her wrists and pin them over her head.
Snowflakes in his lashes, on his skin...on hers. Cold, so very cold. Helpless.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He bared his teeth, his scowl menacing...almost desperate. “Want to do things to you... Trying not to think about them... Not succeeding. Be still. Please, be still.”
“Let me go.” A plea formed, but she swallowed it back. She’d once begged Hades for her freedom, and he’d laughed at her. She wouldn’t give Torin the same opportunity. “Let me go!”
“Not until we’ve come to some sort of arrangement.”
She continued to struggle, gained no new ground. So helpless!
She couldn’t breathe, had to breathe. She wiggled her hips, bucked some more. When she attempted to wedge one of her legs between them and place her bare foot against his bare chest, he wrenched away just before contact.
Finally free.
She lay on the hard ground, sucking in precious air. “Th-thank you.”
He moved over her again, but this time he didn’t hold her down. Didn’t touch her in any way, so she didn’t fight him. He simply shielded her from the onslaught of snow, his features dark with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Strange question, coming from him.
Her heartbeat slowed, though her limbs grew heavier with every second that passed. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
Torin looked up at the sky, then down at her. The sky, her. He nodded, as if he’d just unraveled a mystery, and made to move away from her.
