I want his vulnerable, needy kisses. I want his naked body between my legs. I want every moment when I could have lost control but chose not to.
The climax comes quickly, a rush of heat, a shuddering release that crashes through me with a force I wasn’t expecting. A release that’s complete enough to wipe away all the need within me, and yet it does nothing more than skim the surface of what I want from him.
I take what I can from it.
Physical release. An easing of my desire. The ability to focus beyond the pleasure he can give me.
It isn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.
I want to tell him so, even though I’m sure he senses it, but he speaks first.
“You should hate me again now,” he whispers.
Then his arms fall away from me.
I open my eyes and now I’m forced to face the room, the brightening light through the window, and the reality that comes with it.
The kitchen is quiet. Emil is quiet. I can no longer hear the echo of my mother’s humming.
“My home was never here,” I say, completely out of context, but I need to say it out loud. “This whole place is a nightmare dressed up to look like the home I never had. But I can’t find my home in the past.”
Emil takes a step back from me, his presence becoming distant once more.
Oh, this fading distance. I hate it as much as I hate the silence that falls once again between us.
Before I can turn to him, a voice calls from outside the cottage. “Veda, dearest? Are you there?”
“It’s Halle,” I murmur.
She promised she would be back this morning.
My senses tell me that she isn’t alone. There are two others with her, one with a burning hellhound scent and the other whose magic is more familiar. It can only be Orlan, the warlockwho is loyal to Halle. I first met him on the train when I helped Elijah.
I step away from Emil but half-turn back to him. “Come with me or don’t. It’s up to you.”
His forehead creases behind the curtain of his silver hair, a hint of confusion, but I sweep from the room before he can speak.
I’m satisfied when he follows me into the hallway, even though he keeps his distance.
Ahead of me outside the cottage, Halle stands within my direct line of sight.
As I sensed, the warlock Orlan is with her. He’s dressed in a suit but wears it casually, with the shirt unbuttoned at the top and the jacket undone. He has neatly cut hair, bright eyes, and a strong jaw, and my guess is that he’s only a few years older than me. He also wears tattooed runes on his palms, which he uses when he accesses his magic.
One of the hellhounds from yesterday stands with Orlan, and I recognize him as the one who took humanoid form. His skin is reddish-brown and his wavy, dark-brown hair is pulled up into a warrior’s bun at the back.
As for Halle, she’s in black jeans and a black T-shirt, although she has reverted to her sweet, fairy-dust persona with auburn hair, bright-green eyes, and freckles across her nose.
No doubt she chose it to disarm me.
Maybe she thinks I’ll go easy on her this morning.
She doesn’t wait for me to exit the building before she gestures to the cottage and then to the orchard behind her. “Dark saints, Veda. What happened here?”
My pack has gathered behind her and I’m struck with guilt at the worry in their eyes. They’re all giving me a visual check over. Even Jonah is leaning forward, daring to stand near Halle and only stepping back once it must be obvious that I’m fine.
“I had feelings,” I say to Halle as I pause at the door and still a step within the cottage.
She eyes the distance between us. No doubt because I haven’t exited the cottage yet. Maybe she thinks I’m trapped here, too. If she does, she doesn’t say anything about it.
