“We haven’t said we’ll do it yet,”Iremind him.
“Yes, we will.”Elowenlifts her chin and looks at me.“We’lldo it.”
I shake my head.
“But baby…Idon’t know ifIcan hold off.It’sbeen so long, andIwant you so fucking badly.”Sodoes myDrake,Idon’t add aloud.It’shis lust that’s making me doubt my own ability to do this—his need and possessive desire for her that makes me fearI’llchange the color of her eyes.
“I trust you,”Elowensays firmly.“Andthere’s no other way to get the coal.Sowehaveto do it.”
“Well…if you’re sure,”Isay.
She nods.
“I’m sure.”
SoIguess we’re doing this butIhave to admit,Ihave a bad fucking feeling about it—a very bad feeling indeed.
52
ELOWEN
My heart won’t stop pounding.Itfeels like it’s trying to climb right out of my chest asIsit on the soft leather couch, my hands clenched tightly in my lap, my fingers twisting together until they ache.Thefire crackles softly in the hearth across from us, casting a warm, flickering glow over the room, butIstill feel cold inside.
Or maybe not cold.Ifeel empty—achingly, unbearably empty.
I try not to look atTheron.Ireally do.ButIcan feel him beside me—feel the heat of his body like a second fire, stronger than the one burning in the hearth.Ican smell him too— that spicy, masculine scent that wraps around me and settles low in my belly, making the ache there throb even harder.
Goddess help me, the curse is worse than ever.Itcoils inside me like something alive, tightening and twisting, leaving me restless and raw and desperate for somethingIcan’t seem to reach on my own.EverybreathItake feels too shallow…every shift of my body only reminds me of whatI’mlacking.
WhatIneed…what onlyhecan give me.
I swallow hard and force myself to look anywhere but at him—at the flickering firelight, at the carved wood of the furniture, at the dark, shadowed corners of the room where the light doesn’t quite reach.
At last my eyes land onSalazar.
TheFireDemonsits across from us, long legs crossed, one elegant hand draped casually over the arm of his chair.Theflames that make up his body burn a little brighter here in the dim room, casting strange, shifting patterns of light across the polished floor and walls.He’swatching us, those glowing eyes move between us with quiet, deliberate interest, as though he’s already savoring something that hasn’t happened yet.
I don’t like it.Idon’t like the way he looks at me.Idon’t like the idea of him watching what’s about to happen.Thethought makes my stomach twist uneasily.
But even as that unease flickers through me, it’s swallowed almost immediately by something stronger.
The ache…the need.Itpulses through me, hot and insistent, drowning out everything else—my fear, my embarrassment, even my anger atTheronfor rejecting me last night.
I shift slightly on the couch, pressing my thighs together in a futile attempt to ease the constant throb between them.Itdoesn’t help.Nothinghelps.
Goddess, please…Ican’t stand this much longer!
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe through it.ButallIcan think about is him—aboutTheron.Theway he looked at me before.Theway he touched me.Theway he made me feel so wanted and safe.
My breath catches in my throat, andIopen my eyes again, unable to stop myself this time asIturn to look at him.He’salready watching me.
His gaze is dark and intense—locked on my face as though he can’t look away any more thanIcan.There’ssomething in his expression that makes my chest tighten—something raw and conflicted and aching in a way that mirrors howIfeel inside.
He wants me—Ican see it.Icanfeelit.
And yet…he’s holding himself back.
My throat tightens andIwet my lips, my voice coming out softer thanIintend.
