“After you found yourself widowed andwhat?” I hold her close, desperate for her secrets. “Did you lose the home you shared with your husband?”
If a greedy landlord kicked her out or treated her unfairly, I just might hunt the ogre down. The parapet could always use more heads. Visions of revenge dance in my mind, each scenariobloodier than the last. I tense as I await her response, praying she’ll trust me with the darkness of her past.
She sighs. “There’s a law on the books in Braemar that declares a sonless widow cannot inherit her late husband’s property if the husband has a living male relative who wants to inherit the property instead.”
“Your brother-in-law,” I say with a sneer. “Did that vile male truly take your home away from you? And he didn’t offer to let you stay?”
“Yes, he did take my home away, though there’s a little more to the story. Not long after Harry died, his brother Peter asked me to marry him. I said no, and he didn’t take my refusal very well. So, he threatened to have the constable come and kick me out by force if I didn’t leave on my own. I packed quickly, taking only what I could carry in a rucksack, and left on a cold winter evening, fearing I might have to spend the night on the street. Thankfully, I was able to rent the room at Sinclair’s Bakery that very night, and Mr. Sinclair and Isabel have become like family to me. That is why I am so adamant about keeping them safe on Tribute Day, particularly Isabel.”
My chest aches again, and for a brief moment, it’s as though I’m feeling her sadness, as though it’s becoming my own. Compassion? Is that the emotion that’s causing my throat to constrict and making each breath difficult? But no. It’s more than that. It’s a strange but familiarknowingin the depths of my soul, one I’ve experienced before. AknowingI felt in the prelude to claiming Elssandra.
Then I hear it. Helena’s voice in my head.
Her thoughts. The private musings she won’t say aloud.
Dear gods. It cannot be so. And yet… I hear her. There’s no mistaking her musical voice.
Stunned to my core, I remain utterly still as I listen in.
Please let him keep his promise. Please keep Mr. Sinclair and Isabel safe.
And please, gods, help me secure a path to freedom. I want to be free. I just want to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.
It takes all my self-control not to react when I hear her prayers for freedom. Escape. She wants to escape me. To leave my side. Rage swells within me, and the coldness of a winter storm gathers, making my palms tingle with the urge to expel my magic in a burst of deadly power.
Mine. She’s mine.
Disbelief descends as I continue listening to her thoughts. I struggle to understand what’s happening. How is this possible? Among my people, we can only hear the thoughts of our fated mates. And it usually doesn’t happen until the mating union has been consummated. We only get one fated mate, and Elssandra is long dead. I shouldn’t be able to hear a single thought from Helena, yet her voice continues echoing in my head.
He’s still aroused. Oh, gods. His hardness shouldn’t feel so good and tempting. And his scent—pine, peppermint, smoky wood, spices, and winter snow—shouldn’t entice me so fervently.
Why does he have to be so godsdamn handsome?
How will I manage to get any sleep tonight if he’s holding me?
Will his massive erection keep poking me all night?
I nearly snort at this last thought, and I can’t help but beam inwardly. I love that she’s thinking about my hard cock, my pleasing scent, and my sheer handsomeness. Surely it won’t be long before she’s begging me to claim her.
Why isn’t he saying anything?she says to herself. I just told him what happened to me after Harry died and he’s just standing there staring. What is he thinking?
I straighten, caress a hand through her hair, and come very close to kissing her. But she just told me about some of the darkness in her past. What her brother-in-law did to her is truly rage-inducing. And I want her to feel comfortable telling me more secrets. I want to learn all there is to know about her, and I suddenly regret that her lifespan will be so short compared to mine. If only we had a few thousand years together, though I’m starting to think even that wouldn’t be enough to quench my thirst for knowledge and satiate my burning desire.
“I am sorry to hear about what Peter did to you, darling human. It is abominable. I only regret that I wasn’t the one to kill him.” It’s true. I wish I’d been the one to slice his throat and leave him for dead in the street, and I curse Alaric for taking that away from me. “As for the Sinclairs,” I continue, “it sounds as though the gods led you to them on that dark night. They will emerge from the castle on Tribute Day unharmed.”
I listen carefully, but her thoughts don’t penetrate my consciousness again. The sudden quiet is unnerving, and I find myself hoping, praying, even, that what just happened wasn’t a fleeting occurrence.
Her visage softens as she stares up at me. To my delight, she leans into my touch ever so slightly, tilting her head into my caressing hand.
“Thank you again,” she says at last, “for promising to keep my friends safe. Truly, I won’t forget your kindness.”
“Kindness,” I murmur, a faint smile curving my lips. The word amuses me more than it should, as she has used it to describe me more than once now. Most would label me the very antithesis of kindness. And yet she has seen something in me no one else ever has. Or perhaps she has not seen it at all but drawn it forth, awakening a part of me I never knew existed until now.
Her breath catches, and it’s such a lovely sound. I imagine it’s the sort of noise she might make as she’s gagging on my cock.A sudden vision of her kneeling to accept my male appendage draws a ravenous growl from my throat. I tighten my hold on her and press my cock more firmly against her. She shudders and whimpers, and the scent of her arousal is so very sweet and pungent.
But the moment her eyes flare with reluctance, I take a step back and pull down the bedcovers. I must play the game of wooing her properly. Teasing her. Seducing her. Making her quiver and beg. I won’t claim her tonight, but I’m confident it’ll happen soon enough.
I can’t wait to make her mine, my concubine.
