'You were calling her name. You told her you were sorry.'
His brow furrowed in confusion. 'When—Oh. Yes, I was. I was telling her goodbye.'
'Telling her—' Delilah couldn't form the words, couldn't comprehend what he was saying.
'Telling her goodbye,' Layel repeated. 'Susan is no longer my mate. She is gone, and I am here. I want you. I want to be with you, have a future with you.'
'Layel—'
'You asked me for a chance, but I didn't give it to you. Now I am begging you for one.' He shifted her in his arms, forcing her to wind her legs around his waist and lock her ankles to maintain some sort of balance. 'Please. I will do anything for it. Anything at all.'
They were hovering in the air, over the trees and inside delicate puffs of white. She braced her arms around his neck, staring deep into those bright eyes. 'I'm sorry. I have nothing inside me to give you anymore. Besides, there's no time for this. Tagart and Broderick are searching for the monster, or whatever it is the gods wish us to slay.'
'We will make time. Nothing is more important to me than you. Not even the win.'
'But without the win, one of us will die.'
He sighed at the reminder. 'Much as I wish otherwise, you are right. But…' He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. 'The blankness still lingers in your eyes and that tears me up inside. What can I do? Tell me what to do to help you?'
'I wish I knew. One of the goddesses came to me earlier. Hestia, I realize now. She wanted me to forget you and focus on the game so she…she…' Delilah's eyes widened, the truth crystallizing. 'She took my love for you so that I would no longer place you above victory.'
Layel's arms tightened around her, anger flashing over his countenance. 'I don't understand.'
'I have no emotions. She took them, all of them.' Delilah should have been infuriated by that, but again, there was nothing inside her, not even a single spark of the fury that was so warranted.
'You love me?'
'I did.' She could think of no reason to deny it. 'Yes.'
'And the goddess made it so that you felt nothing?'
'Yes,' she repeated.
'Oh, Delilah, sweet Delilah. I am so sorry. It seems I have more to apologize for than I knew.' His warm breath fanned her ear, a drugging caress she should have enjoyed. 'I will have to feel enough for both of us, then, because I love you, sweet. I love you so much and I cannot let you go.'
It was everything she'd ever longed to hear. Here, now, a strong, powerful man was looking at her as if she were a prize, talking to her as if he would fight anyone or anything for her honor. As if he would hold her tight and never let her go. But still she did not care.
'I will find a way to heal you,' he vowed.
Could he, though? Whichever of them won could ask the gods for the life of the other as their boon. But then the prize could not be the return of her emotions.
It seemed that no matter what happened, they were doomed.
CHAPTER 23
SHIVAWN CROUCHED on the patch of land his father had died on. He'd expected memories to swamp him, pull him under a wave of misery, but surprisingly they didn't. He felt remorse, of course, for the strong male influence he'd lost. But stronger by far was the swell of anticipation for what would be. Alyssa was nearby. He hadn't yet seen her, but he'd at last caught a hint of her delectable fragrance.
A fragrance he planned to surround himself with for the rest of his life. Though he'd blamed her eyes for triggering his nightmares, all this time it had been his eyes that were the faulty ones. He hadn't seen deep enough to the wonderful woman she was.
And, to be honest, he was glad her eyes reminded him of what he'd lost. Glad, because he would never forget how quickly someone he loved could be taken from him. He would not take her for granted again. Besides, those eyes were a part of her and he wanted every part he could get. She was his. His demon, his vampire. His love.
He scanned the area, an area vastly different than he remembered. A village had been built here. Once there had been forest, now there were homes with thatch roofs scattered in every direction. Minotaurs and centaurs worked together in harmony, gardening, pruning, drawing water from wells. Children frolicked and played, laughing in carefree abandon.
Shivawn leaned against the wall, trying to appear inconspicuous. But several females had already gotten a whiff of his nymph scent and were lingering, trying to catch his eye. Lust colored several of their faces, and in turn fury colored several of the men's.
He was a nymph. That was business as usual for him. He was only astonished he hadn't picked up a trail of females on the daylong journey here. Perhaps his scowl had scared them all away.
He'd been forced to self-pleasure what seemed like ten thousand times just to garner enough strength to get here—and for the fight he knew was to come. But he was ready now. He had thoughts of Alyssa in his mind, thoughts that kept him aroused and strong enough. At least, he hoped.
Alyssa rounded the corner of a far stable, kicking stones with the tip of her boot. She wore a long yellow robe, the hood draping her face. He recognized her sensuous stroll, the sweet tilt of her head. More, he knew it was her, sensed it with everything inside him.
His joy, lust and love returned in full measure, stabbing at him fervently. His body shook as he drank her in. Did she think to hide her heritage from the creatures? Most races feared vampires and demons alike. Or had she heard of his arrival and assumed he wouldn't know her if she hid her face?
That was not something he could allow his woman to do.
Her gait never slowed, and she drew closer and closer to him. Was almost within reach…almost…he pushed deeper into the shadows as she stilled, raised her head. The hood fell back and she sniffed the air. Horror blanketed her features, and she stumbled backward.
Unwilling to give her a chance to run, he dove on her, rolling them midair to take the brunt of the fall himself. She was gasping and sputtering, but managed to pull a dagger and hold it to his throat when they finally stilled.
'Stab me if you wish, but know that I'm here because I care for you,' he said, holding her tightly to prevent escape.
'You're here for revenge,' she spat.
'No. For you.'
She pressed the blade deeper and he felt a bead of blood trickle. Around them people watched, no doubt unsure of what to do. 'Go about your duties,' he called, not removing his focus from Alyssa. Gods, she was lovely. How had he resisted her for so long?
'I won't accept punishment for what I did,' she told him. 'It was necessary.'
Her weight was delicious atop him, but he rolled them over, inserting his legs between hers for better leverage. Her eyes narrowed, and she kept the blade balanced. Thankfully she didn't try and scoot away.
'Why did you come here?' he asked. 'To this place?'
'I won't discuss that with you, either. Now get off. I will kill you.'
He cupped her chin with one of his hands, tender, gentle. 'Sweet, I know who your brothers were. I know you were here that night.'
When his words registered, she gasped. Tears sprang into her eyes and she shook her head.
He groaned, hating the pain banked in every hollow of her face. 'Do you hate me for killing them?' he asked softly.
Her mouth floundered open and closed. 'I should.'
'That doesn't answer my question.'
'No.' She sighed, a troubled sound. 'Even then, I understood.'
