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The thought jolted him. Could the demon affect her now?
"Am I immortal?" she asked, rubbing her temples again, as if to ward off an ache. "Or did I make you human?"
"Immortal. I told you, I'm the dominant."
He continued to finger-comb her hair, soon becoming mesmerized by the feel of silk against his flesh. The contrast of dark tresses against the bronze of his skin. The way the strands fluttered over the elegant line of her back.
My wife is sprawled across a bed...
Desire swung through his mind, a wrecking ball to what remained of his frigid resolve. Hunger clawed at him. Between his legs, his erection throbbed.
His mind shouted, Must brand my woman. Show her--show William. She belongs to me, and only me.
Yes, yes. Puck would give her great pleasure. He would teach her to love his touch. Soon, she would crave it.
And when I must give her back to the other male?
William would thank him for preparing the way.
William will die if he dares to touch what--
A low rumble escaped Puck. When the time came, he would do what needed doing. "We will cement our bond now," he said, his tone thick, almost drugged. And I will come. Finally!
Gillian whipped around, her eyes wide with fear. "No. No sex. Not ever. I give you permission to sleep with others. As many others as you want, but never me."
An invisible knife twisted inside his gut. "We are husband and wife. Let me ease your fears."
"I know we're husband and wife, okay," she said, "but I told you I'd never experienced desire, that I never wanted to experience desire, and I meant it."
Her willingness to share him...irritated.
"Very well. It shall be as you wish."
She sobbed on, so he continued on, even if she'd stopped listening. "There are things I must do before we leave. You will stay here, and I will ensure your safety." He stepped away from her then, never looking back, and jumped from the tree.
He would take a little time, ice up, reclaiming the reins of control, and figure out what had happened to Indifference.
Afterward, he would meet his next goal. All would be well--or he would make it so.
12
What the heck is wrong with me?
The moment Puck had left, Gillian had burst into tears? Now different emotions continued to bombard her, making her feel as if she was tripping on a deluge of estrogen, adrenaline and acid. Basically, hysteria played Russian roulette with mania while sadness and happiness engaged in a game of chicken. She was up, she was down, she was round, round, round, and all while strange growls and roars sounded inside her head.
The bond had to be responsible. But how did bonds work, exactly? Puck felt nothing, so it wasn't like she'd inherited his sorrow, rage, guilt, grief and...desire. Had she? The odd prickle had returned, her nipples hardening and the apex of her thighs aching--stronger than before, and this time there was no mistaking the reason.
Some part of her hungered in a way she'd never before known, not even with William.
When Puck had stood, ready to get down and dirty, a small part of her had welcomed the idea of being with him. But of course, fear had swiftly overshadowed everything else.
If he had tried to force the issue...
But he hadn't. He'd saved her life and walked away. Now, she owed him.
He claimed he wanted to feel something--anything. As Gillian thought back over their interactions, her mind no longer clouded by sickness, she began to suspect he'd maybe, possibly...lied to her, that he really didn't want to feel. Because, anytime he'd softened the minutest bit, he'd quickly retreated behind a frigid exterior.
Why would he lie? He had no other reason to marry her. Also, as a teenage runaway, she'd gotten a crash course in deception; her lie-dar would have pinged.
But she thought she might remember him feeling regret at some point? Yes, maybe. If he'd felt it before bonding to her, though, why go through with the ceremony and risk his life? Unless he just wanted to feel more?
And, okay, maybe he wasn't to blame for her current predicament. Maybe all brand-new immortals went through this--or her freshly broken heart was unleashing years of turmoil.
Broken, because William demanded she choose between him and the man who'd saved her. But how could she betray Puck, after everything he'd done?
How could she hurt William like that? Would she ever see him again?
What kind of life could she and Puck actually have?
*
When Puck returned to the tree house, he found Gillian on the bed, exactly where he'd left her.
"Are you still crying?" he demanded as he stuffed her feet into a pair of boots he'd confiscated for her.
"I'm not crying. You're crying," she replied, petulant. Red splotches littered her face, and her eyes were swollen.
She mourned the loss of her precious William.
Puck waited for a pang of outrage. Felt nothing but a slight tightening in his chest. Good. Ice surrounded his heart in impenetrable layers.
Surely they were impenetrable.
"Let's go." He yanked her to an upright position.
"Where are we going?"
Ignoring her question, he maneuvered her outside the tree house. Then, using his daggers, he fought through the thick foliage that cluttered their path. He'd already scouted the realm, but had found only two doorways. One led to a fiery realm where certain death awaited while the other led straight back to William's tropical paradise, neither of which put Puck in the direction of Amaranthia.
They returned to the tropical paradise. Though he expected an ambush, William never appeared.
"Where are we going?" Gillian asked again. "Because I'd like to put in a request for Budapest. I have friends there."
"No."
"William mentioned you're having trouble with Torin. I could run interference and--"
"I'm not having trouble with Torin."
"Okay, great. We can--"
"No."
"Hold up." With a huff, she anchored her hands on her hips. "Let's get a few things straight before we continue on."
"Yes. Let's." He turned to meet her gaze--and got pummeled by a sudden and intense tempest of desire.
How? How did she do this to him?
"Well," she prompted, as if he were the ringleader of this conversation. She held her head high, even as a blush stole over her cheeks.
Such a sexy blush...how far did it travel?
Control! No need to be nice, he decided. He'd wooed, and he'd won. Now he could be himself.
"Our relationship isn't a democracy, but a Puckocracy. I saved your life, lass. From now on, I speak and you listen. I command, and you obey. Understand?"
She began to draw back, only to catch herself and square her shoulders. "By your logic, you must listen when I speak and obey when I command. I saved your life, too."
Oh, really? "Explain."
"In his wrath, William would have imprisoned you."
"Wrong. At worst, he would have yelled at me." The barest glint of pride compelled him to add, "Besides, I've defeated stronger opponents than William of the Dark."
She ran her tongue over her teeth, the picture of female stubbornness, and beautiful beyond imagining. "No one is stronger than William."
Chest tightening again. "What has the male done to earn your loyalty?"
"For starters, he's never lied to me, never taken advantage of me, even when I tried to force the issue," she said.
Interesting. "How did you try to force the issue?"
The blush intensified. "Never mind that. He spent time with me, making no demands, simply enjoying my company. He protected me when I wouldn't protect myself. He--"
"Enough! He's perfect. I get it." The tightening ebbed, replaced by aching; something dark and barbed razed all that so-called impenetrable ice.
Still Indifference remained quiet.
The bond to Gillian had affected the demon. There was no other explanation. But, no matter how Puck h
ad sliced and diced the situation, the answer remained at bay.
What did this mean for him? What did this mean for his wife?
"If you were bonded to William," he found himself saying, "would you be in his bed right now?"
A shudder racked her, the color draining from her cheeks. "No."
That was something, at least.
They resumed their journey and reached the cavern. The next glittery doorway loomed straight ahead.
