“Is gone.” Her tongue licks my jaw. “I need more of your come.”
I growl as she positions me to her opening. With a throaty moan, she sinks down on my length. I am impossibly deep as she sheaths me inside her. Her arms wrap around my neck as her head snaps forward.
My fingers dig into her soft waist as I?—
A scream tears from her lips. Bloom scrambles backward as I lurch to my feet. Her eyes are wide as acidic fear mars her lovely scent.
“Bloom—”
“There’s someone at the window. I—I?—”
A loud bang rattles the oak door. I fear the ancient thing will fall off the hinges. Cursing, I wrap Bloom in a blanket from the couch and shove her behind me.
“I’ll deal with whoever it is,” I assure her.
“Rhydian, please be careful.”
I kiss her quickly.
“Let me keep you safe.”
“I trust you.”
I wear her statement like a badge of honor. Pulling up my pants, I button them closed and stomp towards the door. The anger is easy enough to summon. Whoever is there scared my Bloom. I’ll send them scurrying back to wherever they’ve come.
She is mine to protect, to keep. Mine, mine,mine.
Wrenching open the door, my snarl is cut off as a blade presses against the center of my chest. Vomit swims up my throat as fear freezes my muscles. This can’t be happening. Not with Bloom so close. It’s impossible.
I must be dreaming—trapped in a nightmare. After all this time, he’s finally made good on her promise. He’s returned to kill me.
The man who murdered my father.
Bloom lets out a gasp.Bloom. I can’t allow fear to grip me.
Even if every instinct in my body is telling me to run, I have her to protect. I shove the memories of my father’s corpse away. Of the pool of blood and burying him in the backyard as a child.
This man stole everything from me. He will not rob me of my future as well.
I open my mouth to snarl, but Bloom’s words stop me.
“What are you doing here, Pyke?”
Pyke. This is Pyke.
The man who has stolen from the people of Dew Hollow for years. The one who demanded Bloom’s hand as payment. She told me of his indecent proposal that sent her to my door during our bath.
The one who killed my father—he is one and the same.
It all makes sense.
Only he would know the minotaur would not find him out. The paltry tithe my father used to collect annually would raise suspicion of his passing. He used me to cover up his crimes, knowing that as the years passed and I didn’t take up my father’s mantle to protect, his threats had kept me in line.
He spread lies about me. Insulted the memory of my father. He would’ve forced Bloom to be with him against her will. He deserves to be punished not just for what he did to my father, but for daring to covet my Bloom.
For scaring her, the only punishment is death.
“I should ask you the same question,” Pyke snarls.
