Reaver

His exasperated voice followed her. “You asked.”

She braced her forehead against the opposite wall, letting the cool stone soothe her. But it didn’t do much to alleviate the anguish building inside her.

Shuffling noises filled the room and she tensed as she felt him come closer. “In case we don’t make it out of Sheoul, I need you to know I’m thankful for what you did for my sons and daughter. I can’t thank you enough.” He swallowed audibly, an almost pained sound. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a fallen angel, you know.”

“Maybe. Depends on the fallen angel.”

She laughed bitterly. “If you’re counting on me to wipe the slate clean and tell you to go on your merry way, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m not Verrine anymore. I’ve had to do things to survive that would make your feathers molt.”

“You think I don’t get that?” He made a sound of frustration. “I’m not Yenrieth anymore, either. But we’re both paying for things we did when we were those people. Maybe it’s time to stop.”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep, rattling breath. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. He’d hurt her so badly that she wasn’t ready to let go of the pain. And maybe it wasn’t as much that he’d hurt her as it was that she was an evil bitch who was more about revenge than forgiveness.

No, she definitely wasn’t Verrine anymore.

“You want to stop paying for what we did as Verrine and Yenrieth? What about what we’ve done as Harvester and Reaver?” Pushing away from the wall, she swung around to him. “I smashed you under a mountain. I tricked you and tortured you. Can you really get past that?”

His eyes raked her from head to toe, as if he was trying to see the angel he’d once known. “I already have. But what about you? You said everything you felt for me, as Reaver, makes sense. I know you hate me, but what else?”

“What else?” Her first instinct was to tell him to fuck off. But they both needed a little honesty and a lot of answers now. “Lust,” she said boldly. “I despised you, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to screw your brains out every time I saw you.”

Heat flared in his eyes, and she smiled inwardly. “That’s why you made that deal with me in Sheoul- gra.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well admit I wanted to fuck you, could I? You’d have laughed in my face.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I would have.”

Even though she’d known what he was going to say, it still felt like he’d kicked her in the gut.

“Release me from the deal, Harvester.”

Her heart kicked against her ribs. “What? Never.”

“Why not?”

Because now it was more important than ever. It was the only hold she had over him. The only weapon she had against the only person in the world who could still crush her heart.

“Because I said so,” she snapped.

Reaver looked down at the ground, his golden mane falling forward to hide his expression. It took forever before he finally looked up, and when he did, his eyes held a predatory gleam that took her breath away.

“Do it.” He moved toward her, his broad shoulders rolling like a lion on the prowl. “I betrayed your trust once. Now I’m asking you to give me another chance.”

Harvester’s pulse pounded in an erratic rhythm as he drew closer. The air between them grew thick with a sultry, erotic heat she felt on her skin like a sunburn. This was how it had been the day he seduced her. He’d been so sure of himself, so confident that she’d give in. And she had.

Then he’d crushed her.

“Why should I?” Her voice was humiliatingly hoarse.

“Because you don’t need anything to hold over my head.” He stopped a foot away, an unyielding wall of muscle that blocked her view of everything but him. His voice lowered to a sensual drawl. “You don’t need a verbal contract between us.”

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That he’d have sex with her even if she didn’t force him to? Or was this a repeat of that wonderful and horrible day so long ago? What if he was tricking her to get out of the deal?

“Harvester,” he said, but in her head she heard an echo of “Verrine.” “Release me. Trust me.”

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It would be too easy for him to hurt her again.

But she wanted to be good. How could she do that if she was clinging to a bargain she’d intended to use selfishly? Maybe doing as he asked would be a first step toward making amends for five thousand years’ worth of evil deeds.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she considered his request and her possible response, all weighed alongside her desire to shed some of the darkness that had become as much a part of her as her skin.

She could do this. But if Reaver made her regret it, she’d gut him with her teeth.

“I… release you.” She waited for him to gloat or laugh or something, but he just stood there, his half-lidded eyes smoldering. “Ah… now what?”

“You tell me.” He licked his full lips, leaving them glistening in the diffused gray light of the Boregate. “Do you want to test me? See if releasing me from the deal was a smart thing to do?”

Was this a trick? She narrowed her eyes at him. If it was, he was playing it very, very cool.

She could do cool even better.

“Sure,” she said, kicking off her boots. “Let’s see if I made a mistake.” Bending, she peeled off her leggings, which left her only in the ridiculous pink panties and her skimpy black tank top. “Are you going to fuck me even without the deal?” She hooked her thumb in her panties’ elastic waistband and waited.

And waited.

Finally, Reaver shook his head, and a cold ache drilled a cavern in her chest. “No, I’m not.”

* * *

Still reeling with shock that Harvester had actually taken a huge step toward trusting him by letting him out of the sex deal, Reaver gave Harvester a moment to let what he’d said sink in. It killed him to let her think he’d gone back on his word, but he wanted her to be very clear on what he was about to say next.

As hurt gave way to fury that built like steam in that slim, athletic body, he closed the distance between them and put his mouth to her ear. He shivered at the sensation of her delicate, smooth skin against his lips.

“I won’t fuck you,” he whispered. “But I’ll make love to you. I’ll do what I should have done all those years ago.”

For some reason, she cried out and shoved him away. “I don’t want that,” she shouted. “I can’t. I need… I need…”

Shit. Meltdown time. He’d pushed too fast and scared her. Not that she’d ever admit to being afraid of anything, let alone her emotions.

“What do you need?” he said quietly. “I’ll give it to you.” He had a feeling she needed control, especially now, in the midst of chaos, life altering revelations, and an uncertain future.

For an unbearably long time, she didn’t say anything. Finally, she blurted out, “I need you to take off your shirt.”

Good girl. It didn’t matter what request she’d made of him, he’d have done it. He was just happy she hadn’t demanded that he hop on one foot while singing a show tune or some shit.

“Done.” As he lifted his shirt over his head, the cinnamon-clove scent of Harvester’s arousal filled the room.

Raw hunger gleamed in her eyes, replacing the pain and distrust as he tossed the torn garment to the ground. “Good.”

She caught her tongue between her teeth as she studied him, and damn, he could so easily picture her in the throes of orgasm, her head back, mouth open, silky ebony hair spilling over her shoulders and breasts. She’d be radiant, beautiful, and she could bring a male to his knees.

That thought, of course, put an image in his head of him on his knees in front of her as he kissed her belly on a blazing path to that sweet place between her legs. He’d lick her until she screamed his name, and then he’d do it over and over, swirling his tongue inside her satin channel as he listened to her sexy little mewls of pleasure.