“I wouldn’t.”
“What exactly have you seen?” she asked. “I’ve always loved history. Did you see the French Revolution?”
“I didn’t see it, but I was alive. It was a turbulent time everywhere.”
“What about Napoleon?”
“That guy,” he said with a roll of his eyes that made her chuckle.
She asked more questions about events he might have seen or experienced. She could have listened to the baritone timbre of his voice for days on end. He was alive for Columbus, the Protestant Reformation, Galileo, the Seven Years War, the Crimean War, and so many other things. He went to balls, visited gaming halls, went on hunts, and walked among royalty as well as the poorest of the poor.
While the humans were waging numerous wars, he was fighting with Ronan and the Alliance to keep the spread of Savages under control. Unfortunately, it was a battle they would have to fight for the rest of their lives; as long as there were vampires, there would always be Savages.
“I enjoyed Woodstock and Studio 54,” he said. “If only because they were fun places to people watch, and those people were insane.”
Willow chuckled. “Why did you go to them?”
“They were both places where people were having a good time, and you know how Savages feel about that.”
“I do.”
Eventually, they lapsed into silence, but Willow found herself repeatedly looking at him. He was as intriguing as he was alluring.
“It looks like we’re spending another night in the woods,” she said when the sun started to set again.
“Civilization has to be somewhere.”
He was right, but she was beginning to feel like the rest of the world had ceased to exist, and they were all that remained of it.
Chapter Eighteen
Willow woketo discover herself nestled within Declan’s arms again. She’d taken the first watch so he could sleep and woke him at two to take over; she fell asleep before her head hit the ground.
With her height, there weren’t many men who could make her feel small, but Declan was a good five inches taller than her, and she fit perfectly in his lap. Her first instinct was to pull away; she didn’t want him to think she was weak, but she couldn’t deny herself the warmth and comfort of being in his arms. The cool breeze flowing through the woods tickled her cheeks, and she shivered, which was probably why she was in his arms again.
Typically, she was a light sleeper; she had to be after years of her siblings sneaking into her room to put things inside her clothes, shoes, bed, or wherever they could stick things. She once woke to discover worms on her pillow, and that was all it took for her never to sleep soundly again.
But somehow, around Declan, she slept so deeply he could move her, and she never knew it. Maybe it was her lingering exhaustion after everything she’d been through, but she believed it was because she trusted this man.
She barely knew him, but she felt safe around him. He’d followed her over a cliff and into a waterfall; if that didn’t tell her that he’d protect her, then nothing would.
When Declan felt her uncertain emotions about waking in his arms again, he waited for her to pull away, but she remained relaxed against him. A strange feeling of belonging swept through him as he ran his hands over her back while she lay trustingly in his embrace.
If she knew half the shit running through his mind, she’d probably flee him faster than the Savages, but he would never let her know about his incessant need to kill and destroy. If she realized how much it took for him to control his appetite for sex around her, she wouldn’t trust him so much.
But then, maybe she would understand. Willow was a purebred; she grew up around vampires, and her brothers were purebloods too. Female purebreds didn’t have to fight the increase of destructive impulses that the men did when they stopped aging, but she knew what happened to male, purebred vampires after they reached maturity.
“You were shivering again,” he said as he ran his hands down her back.
And a different kind of shiver was making its way through her now as he caressed her. She yearned to feel his hands on her skin, and not just through her clothes. In her dreams, those hands were tender when they stroked her breasts before slipping between her thighs. They were demanding and rough as they moved within her, pushing her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
She always woke before those hands made her come, and she had to finish what the dream started, but this was no dream. They weren’t on her flesh, but those hands were making her heart beat faster, her breathing more shallow, and her body ache for release.
Declan’s dick stiffened when her desire pulsed against him. He didn’t require any extra help to fuel his lust for her, but her emotions dangerously stimulated his. She could so easily make him lose control; if he did, he didn’t know what he would unleash on this world, but he couldn’t release her.
Determined not to become his father or any other Savage, he’d spent centuries learning how to imprison the demon inside him. But this beautiful, warrior of a woman could unravel in seconds all his careful control.
He should get as far from her as possible, but he wanted to hold her for a few more seconds. She’d brought joy to a life devoid of it, and he cherished this time with her.
