Sinking her sword into the Morrigan and seeing her vanish should be a relief, but she knew it wasn’t over. A temporary reprieve at best. Waking Steel and bringing him back was a great step forward, but another threat hovered on the horizon. The Morrigan threatened to take Marcus and use him to bring her old lover back to life as well as destroy their love. Twenty-four hours passed before she regained consciousness. Steel was awake and chatting, and Marcus had returned. When she woke, she found him stretched across her bed, holding her hand. As she tried to retell the story, he launched at her, and she kissed him back as he held her tight, not letting go. After he carried her home, he cradled her in his arms, holding her all night long. Now, as he moved lower, her sex throbbed, and she squirmed on the bed.
Marcus lowered his head to kiss the sensitive skin inside her thigh. His fingers circled her sensitive spot, blotting out the rest of the world. When he slipped a finger inside, she arched off the bed, and he added a second one, stretching her while he rubbed his thumb, softly stimulating her. Shooting waves of pleasure hit her hard, but a vision of Marcus flashed inside her head of the night he asked her to submit to his will, and she froze. She couldn’t do this and kicked him to stop. Without asking why, he withdrew from her and backed away, distancing himself from her as she adjusted her clothes and sat up, shaking.
“I’m sorry—I want you. I always want you, but that’s how you shifted the balance of power between us in the first place. I know you say you didn’t complete the ritual and I understand why you did what you did, but right now, I don’t trust you. I thought I could carry on and just put it behind us, but I can’t.”
Ella rubbed her temple, the start of a headache taking root as she attempted to decipher her feelings. After the fight with the Morrigan and the clear threat she issued about Marcus, a huge part of her wanted to forget the past and make love to him, terrified of the future, but as he grabbed his pullover from the nightstand and slipped it over his head, she couldn’t. She pressed her lips together so as not to cry. He didn’t attempt to comfort her or move closer.
“What do you want from me?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and he observed her, waiting for a response.
She wanted everything to be like it used to be. No, that wasn’t true—she wanted him to really see her, for the person she was, not chattel he owned and commanded. Maybe it would never work between them, and this weakening of their bond meant parting would be easier.
“Is that really what you want—to separate?” he said with surprising equanimity.
She studied his hard face. “For now—yes.”
“If that’s what you truly want, Ella, I can give you space, but I want to remind you of how much I love you. Let me take you out on a date. Let’s start over—slow—and get to know each other.”
Ella didn’t know what to think. They were married with a child and another one on the way, but in all the time they had known each other, they hadn’t gone on an official date. Their whirlwind romance ended in marriage in less than a year.
“I haven’t forgotten how you love me.” She dipped her head low. “How could I? But you went back on your word, and there’s a hollow ache that wasn’t there before.”
She didn’t see him move, but his hand cupped her chin and he stroked her wet cheek with his thumb, tilting it up to meet his gaze.
“I will spend every waking hour making it up to you, until things are right between us, and I regain your trust and love.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes as she saw the truth of his words in his eyes shining back at her.
“I need you to treat me as an equal, not some feeble woman who always needs saving. Otherwise, we’re doomed,” she said tearfully.
“I’m not sure I can do that, because in some ways you’re my superior, Ella. Your capacity for love and forgiveness go way beyond mine ever could. I love you, and for as long as you love me, I will keep trying to restore your trust in me. We will face every demon, and blow them to hell, but you can’t ask me to stop wanting to protect you. It’s my job, as your mate and husband. It comes before Orion, and everything else. But I won’t hold you back, Ella.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hazy outlines of gray and white shapes came and went, but the burning pain lingered—everywhere. Isabella scratched her skin to get deep inside, right to her cells, which stung as if battery acid filled her veins instead of blood. She wriggled, naked; she’d torn her clothes to pieces earlier because the material itched against her sensitive skin. A cold hand smoothed her cheek, but she darted away, shielding her face with her hand, and growled at the blurry figure. A hiss escaped her mouth. A warning. But the stinging pain that roared through her veins outweighed her fear of the stranger and she screamed. When that did little to ease the pain, she curled into a ball. The fire receded, as did the incessant noise. She touched her fingers to her parched lips. A strong metallic liquid excited
