Willing Sacrifice
Page 64
She was still staring, and it was getting harder by the second for him to remember his manners.
Grace cleared her throat and finally looked away. “Brenya.”
“Something happened to Brenya?”
Grace’s gaze strayed back to him, but only for a second before she squeezed her eyes shut. “No. She’s happening to you.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, honey.”
At the sound of the endearment, she opened her eyes again, but this time she looked right at him. The pain he saw there nearly brought him to his knees. “She’s going to hurt you, Torr. And she’s going to use me to do it.”
“Start at the beginning. What did she say?” He sheathed his sword, picked up the pants and used them to cover his growing erection.
The level of distraction in Grace’s tone dropped significantly. “She said that I was your weak spot and that she was going to use that to get victory.”
“Did she say how?” he asked, even as he knew the answer.
“No.”
“Of course not.” One deep breath. Two. Frustration trickled out, but only a little. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go talk to her.”
Grace grabbed his arm. “No. We can’t. What if that’s what she wants? What if it’s part of her plan?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He started to put the pants on, but she ripped them away and tossed them across the room. Fury and fear trembled out of her. “You’re not listening to me. We can’t play into her hands. We have to outsmart her.”
Torr wanted to be the kind of man who could ease her worries, but all he could think about was how close she was, how sweet she smelled, how he was stark naked and wanted her that way, too. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him or if she was more worried about something else. His body seemed to short-circuit his brain, narrowing his focus to a very small field.
He managed enough honor to ask, “What do you think we should do, honey?”
“Beat her at her own game.”
“How are we going to do that? And why? We’re on the same side.”
“Because she’s going to get you killed.” She grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him—or at least she tried to. She swayed more than he did, but he understood the emphasis she was trying to achieve.
He wrapped his hands around her waist. He couldn’t help it. She was too close, and her touch on him—whether for emphasis or not—was more than he could ignore.
He stepped closer until they were almost pressed together. He could feel the heat of her body against his naked skin and wished desperately for the power to make leather evaporate. “All Brenya wants is for this place to be safe. I’m going to see to it that it’s done right. I’ve been fighting for a long, long time, and I know what I’m doing.”
“I can’t let her hurt you.”
“Even though you think I lied?”
“You did lie, but Brenya forced you to.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Are you going to tell me what you know about my old life?”
He shook his head. “You know I can’t. I wish things were different, but we’re playing by Brenya’s rules.”
“I don’t trust her anymore, Torr. Neither should you.”
“She saved your life. She kept you safe for years. For that, I owe her everything.”
“I’m afraid that’s what she’s going to end up taking.”
He brushed her damp hair behind her ear. “As long as she doesn’t take you away from me, I can handle whatever she decides to dish out.”
A pretty flush colored her cheeks. “I should leave and let you get dressed, go talk to her.”
“Or you could stay.”
That flush deepened, and she wet her lips. “I think it’s better if I don’t. If I stay, I’m going to want to touch you.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me. I’m dying to kiss you again, Grace.”
A delicate shiver raced through her. “I still want you, but I can’t be with you like that again. You’re not the man I thought you were. I can’t trust you now, not after knowing you lied.”
Something deep in his chest screamed in agony as it died. The woman he loved didn’t trust him. His sweet Grace, who willingly risked her life to heal him, no longer trusted him.
He’d lost something precious—something that, once shattered, could never be made whole again. Even if he proved himself worthy of her, the belief that he’d lied would always be in the back of her mind.
Torr stepped away and turned his back. His nudity was an embarrassment now. It hadn’t bothered him before, but now she saw him as a liar, and that made shame fester in his soul. “You should go.”
“Torr, I—”
“I have preparations to make and I need to secure the village perimeter before I go.”
“We should talk.”
He slid the loose pants on, glad to finally be covered. “There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t trust me and I can’t change your mind about that, not when I’m bound by my vow. It’s best if I just focus on keeping you and the others safe. It’s what I do best.”
“Promise me you’ll be safe.”
He didn’t dare. That wasn’t the kind of promise his kind ever made. Instead he said, “Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I’ll worry. I care about you.”
“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice too loud and harsh. Then, more calmly, “It’s better for both of us if you don’t.”
• • •
Grace had hurt Torr. She hadn’t meant to, but his pain was both obvious and devastating.
All through dinner, she kept hoping for a glimpse of him. She wanted a chance to talk to him, to find a way to ease the sting she’d caused. She ached knowing that she’d hurt him, and no matter what she thought to say, nothing seemed right. She knew he had his reasons for lying to her, but until he was willing to tell her about them—about why he would give Brenya a vow that forced him to lie to Grace—she didn’t see how she could forgive him.
Maybe that made her a bad person.
She questioned herself all night, searching for a chance to talk to him, but none came. As the women flowed through the center of the village, gathering their stew and bread, she never once caught sight of his head towering over the crowd. With each passing minute, her heart fell further, until she knew she had to fix it.
Grace cleared her throat and finally looked away. “Brenya.”
“Something happened to Brenya?”
Grace’s gaze strayed back to him, but only for a second before she squeezed her eyes shut. “No. She’s happening to you.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, honey.”
At the sound of the endearment, she opened her eyes again, but this time she looked right at him. The pain he saw there nearly brought him to his knees. “She’s going to hurt you, Torr. And she’s going to use me to do it.”
“Start at the beginning. What did she say?” He sheathed his sword, picked up the pants and used them to cover his growing erection.
The level of distraction in Grace’s tone dropped significantly. “She said that I was your weak spot and that she was going to use that to get victory.”
“Did she say how?” he asked, even as he knew the answer.
“No.”
“Of course not.” One deep breath. Two. Frustration trickled out, but only a little. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go talk to her.”
Grace grabbed his arm. “No. We can’t. What if that’s what she wants? What if it’s part of her plan?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He started to put the pants on, but she ripped them away and tossed them across the room. Fury and fear trembled out of her. “You’re not listening to me. We can’t play into her hands. We have to outsmart her.”
Torr wanted to be the kind of man who could ease her worries, but all he could think about was how close she was, how sweet she smelled, how he was stark naked and wanted her that way, too. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him or if she was more worried about something else. His body seemed to short-circuit his brain, narrowing his focus to a very small field.
He managed enough honor to ask, “What do you think we should do, honey?”
“Beat her at her own game.”
“How are we going to do that? And why? We’re on the same side.”
“Because she’s going to get you killed.” She grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him—or at least she tried to. She swayed more than he did, but he understood the emphasis she was trying to achieve.
He wrapped his hands around her waist. He couldn’t help it. She was too close, and her touch on him—whether for emphasis or not—was more than he could ignore.
He stepped closer until they were almost pressed together. He could feel the heat of her body against his naked skin and wished desperately for the power to make leather evaporate. “All Brenya wants is for this place to be safe. I’m going to see to it that it’s done right. I’ve been fighting for a long, long time, and I know what I’m doing.”
“I can’t let her hurt you.”
“Even though you think I lied?”
“You did lie, but Brenya forced you to.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Are you going to tell me what you know about my old life?”
He shook his head. “You know I can’t. I wish things were different, but we’re playing by Brenya’s rules.”
“I don’t trust her anymore, Torr. Neither should you.”
“She saved your life. She kept you safe for years. For that, I owe her everything.”
“I’m afraid that’s what she’s going to end up taking.”
He brushed her damp hair behind her ear. “As long as she doesn’t take you away from me, I can handle whatever she decides to dish out.”
A pretty flush colored her cheeks. “I should leave and let you get dressed, go talk to her.”
“Or you could stay.”
That flush deepened, and she wet her lips. “I think it’s better if I don’t. If I stay, I’m going to want to touch you.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me. I’m dying to kiss you again, Grace.”
A delicate shiver raced through her. “I still want you, but I can’t be with you like that again. You’re not the man I thought you were. I can’t trust you now, not after knowing you lied.”
Something deep in his chest screamed in agony as it died. The woman he loved didn’t trust him. His sweet Grace, who willingly risked her life to heal him, no longer trusted him.
He’d lost something precious—something that, once shattered, could never be made whole again. Even if he proved himself worthy of her, the belief that he’d lied would always be in the back of her mind.
Torr stepped away and turned his back. His nudity was an embarrassment now. It hadn’t bothered him before, but now she saw him as a liar, and that made shame fester in his soul. “You should go.”
“Torr, I—”
“I have preparations to make and I need to secure the village perimeter before I go.”
“We should talk.”
He slid the loose pants on, glad to finally be covered. “There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t trust me and I can’t change your mind about that, not when I’m bound by my vow. It’s best if I just focus on keeping you and the others safe. It’s what I do best.”
“Promise me you’ll be safe.”
He didn’t dare. That wasn’t the kind of promise his kind ever made. Instead he said, “Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I’ll worry. I care about you.”
“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice too loud and harsh. Then, more calmly, “It’s better for both of us if you don’t.”
• • •
Grace had hurt Torr. She hadn’t meant to, but his pain was both obvious and devastating.
All through dinner, she kept hoping for a glimpse of him. She wanted a chance to talk to him, to find a way to ease the sting she’d caused. She ached knowing that she’d hurt him, and no matter what she thought to say, nothing seemed right. She knew he had his reasons for lying to her, but until he was willing to tell her about them—about why he would give Brenya a vow that forced him to lie to Grace—she didn’t see how she could forgive him.
Maybe that made her a bad person.
She questioned herself all night, searching for a chance to talk to him, but none came. As the women flowed through the center of the village, gathering their stew and bread, she never once caught sight of his head towering over the crowd. With each passing minute, her heart fell further, until she knew she had to fix it.
