Antony’s dark eyes glitter up at me. “Perhaps one day I’ll find him and tear him slowlyapart.” His snarling mouth rises to close over my breast, and his vow rumbles against my skin. “You will never feel the cut of an iron blade again.”
Renewed desire banishes my lingering fears.
I can’t stop my smile at his promise or the warmth growing in my chest.
I’m startled when, upon glancing up, he focuses on my lips, and his face falls.
He darts upward, rising to his feet, tugging me closer when the shackle pulls against the wall, threatening to separate us.
“This smile,” he rumbles.
Breathlessly, I ask, “What of it?”
Shadows flood his eyes. “It has the power to slay me.”
I’m suddenly wide-eyed.
Slowly, very slowly, he pushes back against the wall, pulling me with him, keeping me close, wrapping his shackled arm around me as far as he can reach, his other arm pressing across my shoulders, an embrace that feels so damn comforting it’s an astonishing contrast to his fury.
I soak it in, taking every soothing heartbeat of it.
I don’t want to break it. This peace between us.
Don’t want to speak of darkness.
I could close my eyes right here and not utter another word about the past.
But I need to know. “Why did the cut on my face…?”
Even as the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
The tension returns to his shoulders, the sweaty muscles beneath my palms becoming hard.
Exhaling quietly, I nestle my head against his heart. “It’s okay. You don’t need to?—”
“I was there when my mother was killed.”
I squeeze my eyes closed.
Of all the awful scenarios I imagined, this was the worst.
I remain still and unspeaking, listening to the hard beatsthumping through his chest, giving him the space to continue speaking. Or not. Whichever he chooses.
“On the night the Vividari were slaughtered, my father forced me to go with him to the mountain where they lived. He’d finally let my mother return home. Like the sick fuck he was, it turned out he wanted to watch her die.”
Again, Antony stops, and again, I remain quiet, giving him the space to decide if he’ll continue.
“She was running. She tripped. And?—”
His teeth gnash together, his voice strangling.
The tension in his chest thrums through me, unbearable.
Painful.
“Her face was cut up, and I couldn’t. Fucking. Stop. Any of it.” He drags in a breath. “I swore I’d kill my father after that.”
“Did you?” I whisper.
