He smiled. And gods, that smile felt like a promise and a wound all at once.
I hadn’t realized that I had been walking backward until my back hit the wall. The sound of my breath tangled with his as his fingers found my chin. His touch was rough, deliberate, like he was fighting every instinct he had just to keep it gentle. He dragged his pointed finger down the length of my throat, over my chest, down to my stomach, leaving a trail of heat and confusion in his wake.
He leaned forward, so close that his breath ghosted over my lips. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d finally kiss me, but instead,he turned his head and pressed his mouth to my neck. My eyes fluttered closed as his lips traced slow, careful paths down my skin, like he wanted to memorize me but couldn’t admit it aloud. I sighed heavily, betraying how much I needed this, needed him, even when I knew I shouldn’t.
When he moved closer, his knee slid between my legs, pressing against me until a broken moan escaped my throat.
“Tell me that I’m the only man you’ll think of when you touch yourself,” his rough voice whispered into my ear.
I thought of refusing to answer, but his knee pressed into me again.
“You’re the only man I’ll picture.”
“I want you to call me your husband and mean it.”
His knee pressed harder, forcing another sound from me as my hips rolled into him without thought.
“You’re my husband,” I moaned as I rolled my hips again.
“That’s right. So remember that the next time you want to flirt with another man that isn’t me.” He pulled back, gripping my jaw so I had no choice but to look at him. “I will kill him if you ever look at him like that again.”
“Like what?” I breathed, my voice trembling as my hips moved against his leg again.
“Like you look at me,” he hissed.
I stared at him, searching his face, desperate to find something real behind the fury in his eyes—anything that said this meant more than jealousy or pride. But all I found was pain buried beneath it.
“I didn’t like that at all, Elowyn,” he whispered, like the words cost him something.
“And I didn’t like that you recoiled from my touch like I disgusted you.”
The words tore out of me before I could stop them. I shoved him away, my heart splintering even as his warmth left me. Hewas only being like this now, caught up in the moment, in anger, in whatever this was. Tomorrow he’d wake up and act like none of it mattered. Like I didn’t matter.
“That wasn’t disgust,” he said, his voice rough. “That was the look of a man realizing he wanted something too much and being terrified of what that would cost.”
Tears stung my eyes before I could blink them away.
“I have no desire to sleep with another man, but at least he didn’t look at me like I was a mistake. He wrapped his arm around me, and do you know what I thought?” I turned toward Abram, my voice trembling slightly despite my attempt at steadiness.
He frowned at me, sharp and unreadable, like every word I said was cutting him in half.
“That this man, who isn’t my husband, has touched me more than my husband has, and when he looks at me, he doesn't look right through me. He sees me.”
“El…,” he sighed, a sound full of something I couldn’t name. I waited, my chest tight, but he turned from me.
“Maybe I should just go back to the coven tomorrow. I’ll just tell them that you are traveling for work.”
“What?” He snapped toward me, the sharpness in his voice slicing through the quiet. “Now you want to leave me?” The words came out harsh, but there was something raw beneath them that made my chest tighten.
I sighed heavily, staring down at my hand, tracing the place where a ring should have been. My stomach churned with guilt and frustration.
“This was stupid, and we can break the spell.”
His eyes narrowed, locking onto me with a depth of intensity that made my limbs feel heavy. “You want to leave me to go after Nate?” He hissed, and the sheer force behind his words pressed into me, making it impossible to look away. “You can run back tothe coven. You can try to divorce me. You can try and go to Nate, but I am not letting you go,” he said, and it sounded less like a threat and more like a refusal to survive without me.
“We can talk tomorrow.” I met his gaze, unsure if I was challenging him or begging him not to explode.
I liked Abram like this, even as the raw, terrifying power in him made my heart race. His eyes had been red before, but now they darkened, almost black, like he was possessed by some force beyond both of us.
