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“You’ve been hiding this from me?”
“You didn’t need to deal with him.” Caedryn’s gray tunic opened to show his linen shirt underneath. Blood speckled it.
I pulled the opening farther and touched a drop. “Is all of this your blood?”
I scrutinized his face. Oh. I saw where he wiped it but had done a poor job. His hairline held traces of blood. “You hit him.”
“No, I didn’t. But I broke a few chairs. This”—he indicated his knuckles—“happened when I punched the wall.”
Caedryn slipped his hands into my hair and leaned his forehead to mine. “Niawen.” His voice carried so much pain. So much fear.
“You tortured him, didn’t you? I know you’re lying.”
“I love that you can see the truth in me. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to protect you.” He kissed my cheek, near my mouth.
“Don’t lie.” My hands threaded through his hair, and I pulled his head back as Caedryn tried to kiss me again.
“All right.” Desperation slipped into his voice. He wanted to distract himself from the worry. From the fear. He wanted to hide in his violent passion. As he pushed his hips against mine, I felt his ache. He inched me back until my bottom touched the desk. “I don’t want to lose you. My fear took over. Any threat to me is a threat to you and our child.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.” He kissed me on the mouth. He was hungry. His soul cried out for me to return his touch.
I gasped back a fraction. “Take me to him. I can heal him.”
“It’s taken care of. Someone is seeing to him.” He edged my jaw with kisses, and although my head angled back to allow him, I remained rigid with concern.
He wouldn’t shove what he’d done under some carpet and use euphoria to make things better.
“What you did was wrong,” I said.
“Niawen, please.” His tone said, “Not now. Stay with me.” I wouldn’t have access to the prisoner, to heal him or otherwise, even if I begged.
“Caedryn,” I struggled to keep a level head as his mouth descended on my neck.
“He’s been drugged. He’s resting,” he murmured as he hoisted me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and carried me across the room to a bed.
I held on to his shoulders as he laid me down. I had no more willpower.
Dangerous.
Cruel.
He’s my husband.
A tear leaked from the corner of my eye.
“Is this safe for the babe,” Caedryn whispered as he leaned over me. He kissed the tear away.
“Yes.” I swallowed my concerns. We would work on his rage, on his fear. We had time. I could still help him.
He can have this one moment to forget.
Caedryn felt my concession. And as I caressed his cheek, I heard the door’s latch drop, locking us inside. I heard the curtain draw around us.
We were cocooned from the world. Alone.
SIXTY-THREE
