“And you thought you would share? Show me a place I can never visit?” he finally murmured.
I swallowed hard, hearing a trap in his words but unable to prevent stepping into it. “I can’t do anything else to help you. I can’t remove those cuffs or stop the pain that you feel. I can’t get you out of this house. I can’t take away your worries or fears but...I can try to make you happy...even for a moment.”
He didn’t reply. The muscles in his jaw flexed, his throat working like he was swallowing something far heavier than air.
Whisper lay down, resting his giant head on Lucien’s knee. Lucien stiffened as if he was about to leap to his feet and either strike me or run. The barest shimmer of sweat glittered on his hairline, hinting he still hurt, still burned.
I couldn’t help myself.
Scooting closer to him, I rested my hand on his forearm.
His nostrils flared as he looked at where I touched him. His hand curled into a fist on his leg but...he didn’t shake me off.
He looked up.
Our eyes locked.
We didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
His gaze tore into me, fierce and angry, but the stony feel of his arm slowly relaxed. His forehead smoothed and his teeth unclenched as he sucked in his first proper breath since I’d found him in the cold plunge.
His hand drifted to his shirt, pressing against the silver metal trapping his heart.
“What is it? Is the pain getting worse?” I shifted closer, to do what I didn’t know.
He didn’t answer, but the rigidity of his body eased as though some invisible weight had finally released. The burning in his eyes dimmed to something less agonising.
He sucked in a relieved breath.
“Has it stopped hurting as much?” I whispered, thanking this room, this idea, this small reprieve from his pain.
He scowled, his handsome face turning cruel and ruthless, just like that first day we’d met and he’d snapped a girl’s neck right in front of me.
Even those memories didn’t have the power to stop me as I reached up and smoothed away the frown lines between his eyebrows.
He flinched back, his expression almost...shy. But then his face hardened. “What are you doing?”
“I told you.” I shrugged, my cheeks turning hot. “You’re far too good-looking to scowl all the time. You shouldn’t waste such a pretty face.”
God, did I really just say that?
Self-consciousness prickled down my back as I stood and brushed off my dressing gown. My gaze caught on the screen—on the thick roots knotted above the earth like sleeping serpents. The drip-dripping of the falling rain splashed all around us as trees soared like ancient pillars toward the sky. Colourful wings fluttered past, a flash of bright feathers vanishing into emerald and shadow.
I lost myself in the fantasy of being free.
I didn’t know how many minutes passed but goosebumps suddenly scattered down my spine. Turning my head to look at Lucien, I froze—
His eyes weren’t on the jungle.
They were locked on me.
Unflinching and furious, hungry and lost. The air instantly thickened as if a thunderstorm was about to crack within thesmall room. His chest rose and fell as if forcing himself to breathe. The light of the recording rippled over him, gilding the sharp bones of his face.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. I forgot language and movement and became nothing more than heartbeats and heat.
Lust shot through me so violently, sodesperately, I backed away.
