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Remus is dead.

I climb back up his body, falling beside him, where he cradles me in his arm, against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what, exactly?”

“That I can’t … that I … see him. And I want to see you. Only you.”

“You will. When you’re ready to see me.”

I lift my gaze to the patch at his eye. “May I look?”

“It isn’t pretty.”

“It’s fuel. It makes me hate him. And hate has to be stronger than fear. Stronger than pain. Otherwise people wouldn’t do horrible things to others, right?”

Instead of answering, he lifts the patch to expose the mutilated flesh beneath, the sight of which stirs fury in the pit of my gut. The socket has been stitched, and the sutures have healed nicely, but the destruction is there, and at the memory of Remus making light of it during his tortures, I grind my jaw. Tears of rage fill my eyes, as my muscles tense, spoiling to throttle something. “Tell me he screamed in his suffering. Tell me he begged for your mercy.”

“He did. Until his last breath, he begged, and I still denied him.”

“This hate is not who I am, Titus. But the pain he’s caused. The suffering … He didn’t deserve mercy. And I’m glad you didn’t grant it. I hope he rots in hell eternally.”

“Seeing him bent over you with the blade. I lost my mind. Just snapped. Like I was seeing the world through the eyes of an animal.”

I remember Freya’s words, that a savage lies in the heart of all men, and it occurs to me how true it is. Except, some men are driven by different impulses. Some men are violent for different reasons, and those reasons lie in the very depths of the heart. “My father used to say that a man’s lust for bloodshed is a consequence of whatever desire stirs his heart.”

He cups my jaw, stroking his thumb over my cheek. “You move like the waves inside mine, Thalia.” Face hardening with pain, he turns his eyes away from mine. “When I lifted your limp body from that bed, I realized how vulnerable I could be. How weak.”

“It’s so strange, isn’t it?” Tilting my head, I guide his eyes to mine. “All my life, I’ve been made to feel fragile, and here, you are the biggest, most dangerous and intimidating man I’ve ever met in my life, and yet, I feel powerful when I’m with you. Invincible. You give me strength.”

It’s true. Every time I’ve felt knocked down by this world, Titus has been there to build me back up. He’s caught my fall, in spite of the fact that I continue to be a liability for him.

A weakness, as he said.

I climb on top of him, legs straddling his hard body, and as I lift the hem of his shirt, he sits up enough to allow me to pull it over his head. Gaze devouring his lean, chiseled form, I lean forward to kiss his chest. The scent of him hits the back of my throat again, watering my mouth. Something pulls from deep inside my stomach, a craving to have him in ways I shouldn’t right now. It somehow overrides the inhibitions sounding off inside my head that tell me it’s too soon. That I’ve not healed mentally and physically, in spite of what I feel.

As if he can hear them, too, his hands slide up from the side of me and lift me up just enough to break the kiss. “Thalia … we don’t have to do this right now.” The strained tone of his voice, alongside the slight tremble in his muscles, belies his words. The few times we’ve been together, I’ve noticed the vibration beneath his skin, as if his body is fighting to hold back.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

His dubious expression tells me he doesn’t believe me.

I thread my fingers in his hair, stretching my body over his, and I bury my face in his neck to hide the doubt I suspect is written all over my own face.

Rough hands smooth along my curves to the underside of my thighs, and he lifts his head just enough to kiss my neck. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready. I want this. I want you.” What I want and need more than anything is normalcy. To distance myself from what happened and return to the girl I was before. I drag my tongue across his throat, while snaking my hand down inside his jeans.

He squeezes the back of my thighs as his groan rumbles across my lips. “Fucking hell, I’m trying to be decent, woman.” His voice cracks at the end, and he plants a kiss on my shoulder. “Please, Thalia. I can’t say no to you.”

He doesn’t want you, a familiar voice inside my head taunts. You’re no longer appealing. You’re worthless.

“I’m used now, Titus,” I say, with tears misting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me.”

Grip tightening around me, he draws me in closer. “You’re not used. You’re not damaged. You are stronger today than you were yesterday. And tomorrow, you’ll be stronger still.”

No. I know better than that. Secrets I haven’t told him yet. Compartments inside my head that taunt me now, the demons Remus left for me.

“There are things you don’t know, Titus. Things that would disappoint you, after all that time you took to train me.”