“You should know I killed her,” he adds in a voice that’s all grit and cinder without a hint of remorse.
I push myself up in bed. “You murdered Olivia and brought me her head?”
He nods slowly.
How do I feel about that? I try to find some empathy for the woman who betrayed me, but I can’t. I’m too tired. The old me might have challenged him, encouraged him to find a way without using violence. That girl is dead. I’ve endured too much. There’s too much riding on this next challenge for me to waste a single moment fretting about Damien being Damien.
Olivia had it coming, and the fact that he took her life so effortlessly is a reminder of the power of my mate. This is why Valeska wants him so badly. It’s also why his kingdom needs him. Damien is wired to be loyal. To be loved by him is to exist in the shelter of that love. This challenge has left him feeling helpless, like a cat without his claws. And good for him for finding an appropriate scratching post. I refuse to mourn a woman who traded my best hope of survival for a chance to become a vampire and then came to my room and rubbed it in my face. I refuse to mourn fake friends when true love is standing right in front of me.
The way he’s looking at me is halfway between patient and defiant. He did what he felt he had to do, and now he’s waiting for me to fight him on it.
I flop back on the mattress and smile lazily up at him. “Wash your hands before you come to bed. I don’t want her ashes in the sheets.”
The smile he rewards me with is lined with relief. He rolls the tray away from the bed, then strips off his clothes, never breaking eye contact. Brazenly, he walks into the attached bathroom, leaving the door open as he steps into the shower. Thank God I’m not hooked up to a heart monitor, because my pulse flutters as the water slithers along the moguls of his hard, toned flesh. Soap dribbles down the groove of his spine, disappearing in the valley between the two perfect mounds of his ass. I have half a mind to drag myself in there so we can take turns getting dirty and then clean again, but when I pull back the covers, the wave of fatigue that hits me warns me I’m not completely recovered. Not even close.
I don’t even pretend like I’m not ogling every part of him as he steps from the shower, dries himself off, and then climbs into bed beside me.
“Better?” He lifts a teasing brow. He knows he’s hot as fuck and just teased my still-injured ass into a puddle of lust.
I run my nails down his chest and lick over one of his nipples. His breath draws in on a hiss. I raise my gaze to his. “Thank you for defending me.”
His hand digs into my hair, his eyes taking on that blue-tinged intensity they do when he’s exceptionally passionate. “I’d turn this entire hive to ash and every vampire in it to be with you, Eloise. I’d burn this world down to protect you.”
I throw one knee over his hips and slide on top of him, brushing my lips against his. “I know. I hope you don’t have to, but I know.”
Our soft kiss grows deeper, his hands stroking down the open back of my hospital gown and cupping my ass, the tips of his fingers sending heat between my parted legs. As worn out as I am, I’m already wet for him. But there’s one more thing I need to know before I lose myself in him.
I draw back, my face close to his. “You didn’t tell me about the resistance.”
He nibbles my bottom lip. “I didn’t want to put you under more pressure.”
Unlike Marabella, who heaped it on like a scoop of mashed potatoes.
“You, your kingdom, my own life… What’s one more reason I have to win this?”
“I should have told you.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I realized something tonight when I was removing Olivia’s head from her body.”
I suppress a shiver. “What’s that?”
“From the beginning, I keep making the foolish mistake of underestimating you, my little dragon. You are no rabbit of a woman in need of my protection from the prowling lion. You are a fierce thing with sharp claws and teeth. And you’ve become quite good at cheating death.” He strokes my spine from the ends of my hair to the backs of my thighs. “Someday, when you are ready, I want to take you to my kingdom and make you my princess.”
I beam down at him. “Your princess, huh? I don’t know. Would I have to live in the castle and wear gorgeous dresses and a crown like your mother’s?”
He chuckles. “That wasn’t even her crown. It was just a tiara for casual use.”
I laugh so hard we shake the bed. “For casual use. Washing-dishes tiara. Mowing-the-lawn tiara.”
“Would you like to see the crown jewels reserved for my princess?”
“I think it’s important for me to make an informed decision.”
He holds out his hand, and shadows coalesce to form what appears to be a crown of black ice with sharp spires that rise higher in the front than in the back. “This doesn’t do it justice of course. It’s composed of black diamonds and carbon steel, befitting shade royalty. It will look radiant against your red hair.” With a turn of his hand, the image is gone.
“Do you think your family will accept me? A human?” A family of shades inviting a mere human into their royal ranks would be like a royal family of orcas inviting a seal.
He presses a kiss to my nose. “They will if they want their eldest son back.”
“But Damien, we can’t force?—”
