Page 194 of Huntress

He kissed her again, their tears becoming one until all they tasted was the salty bitterness of grief. Saint smiled and hauled her into his lap, taking a second to gaze into her eyes before going back for more. His mouth opened, and she followed his lead, fire igniting in her belly.

His presence tingled along her every nerve ending, and her body demanded more. She always wanted more. Her fingers dove into his curls with one hand and held onto his shoulder with the other, all the while he held her gently, avoiding her injuries with great care.

He was attentive, noting her exhaustion and halfway supporting her weight. His kisses carried no demand or urgency, just relief. Saint’s happiness to have her in his arms again felt like pure comfort.

Elsie let him keep the pace, but even as slow and soft as he was moving, the ache inside kept growing until the little heathen inside of her demanded she take him for her own.

He tracked where her intentions were leading and chuckled softly, whispering between kisses. “Sealing the bond has to wait until you’re healed, but once you are, we can do whatever you want.”

Elsie’s tears kept flowing, knowing she would be the reason he broke that promise. She took everything from that moment. His scent, his taste, the way his touch lingered, all committed to memory in the tiniest detail.

She didn’t want to stop, because once she did, the illusion of their future together ended. She’d wanted Saint for far too long, and the day they’d chosen their own happiness, the whole damned world conspired against them. She clung to him, deepening their kiss and pressing herself against him, wishing things were different.

That she could keep him.

Elsie broke their kiss and laid her forehead on his shoulder, furiously willing the tears to stop. She had to hold it together if she was going to be convincing. She needed him to believe. She needed him to hate her.

He continued stroking her back, murmuring sweet words in her ear, and her resolve started to crumble. She stood on shaky legs, unable to meet his eyes any longer.

“We need to sneak you out of the compound safely, but there’s a minor complication I need to deal with first.” She stepped over Clairemont’s lifeless body to retrieve a shovel. Saint stood beside her, glaring down at the man who’d tormented him.

“Why not burn it?” he asked, assuming she wanted to bury the beastmaster’s body.

“No, his people can dispose of that filth,” she answered. Stepping up to the nearest stall, she lifted the latch, then shoved it aside and slid the heavy door open.

“Yesss,” Saint hissed.

They opened every door while the demons inside watched in fear, unwilling to come out if it meant facing their deaths.

“The beastmaster can’t hurt you anymore. Make it through the barrier, and you’re free,” Elsie said.

The first demon crept through the door of her stall, crouching close to the wall, as far away from the hunter and wolfhound as she could get. The second she passed them, she bailed out of the barn and into the compound. A rush of bodies in various stages of healing followed.

Elsie watched them go bitterly. She couldn’t grant them their freedom. She wasn’t powerful enough to take the barrier down, but she’d given them a fighting chance.

Limping and shuffling their way out of the barn, Elsie led Saint to where the raven’s body lay. She picked it up by the feet, then turned and walked straight toward the barrier.

“What’s with the bird?” Saint asked.

“He found me,” Elsie answered, knowing he would understand. The horror masked his face, and he grabbed her shoulder, stopping her several yards before the barrier wall.

“Wait, you can’t go out there, they travel in flocks. If they’ve come looking for this one, they’ll find you,” he said urgently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” She brushed off his hand and continued. They walked through the barrier, and Elsie turned, placing her hand on the dome, making adjustments without telling him what she was doing. No matter what happened now, he wouldn’t be returning to the compound.

They carefully made it through the dead zone and into the trees beyond, but Elsie kept walking. She felt his confusion, but also his trust. He didn’t ask any questions; he just followed her as he always did. Two agonizing miles into the woods, Elsie threw the raven to the ground and leaned the shovel against a tree.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked in Saint’s general direction, still unable to actually face him.

“We can’t do this. I can’t do this.” She was pleased with how monotone she’d managed to make her voice sound.

“Do what? Bury the bird? Sit down and focus on healing. I’ll dig.” He reached for the shovel.

“That’s not what I meant,” Elsie told him. She put up the barrier he’d taught her to use, blocking him from any emotion she might accidentally share. He felt it the moment she did, and his brows furrowed.

“What did you mean?” he asked.

“Marley informed me that you killed an innocent soldier who had nothing to do with what Callum did. Saint, we’re so toxic together, we aren’t good for each other.” She meant to continue her explanation, but his reaction threw her off. Saint laughed.