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Watch the fire in her eyes die? Never!
When she attempted to buck up, uncaring as the thorns sliced into her vulnerable neck, he flinched. Well. No other choice. Must do something before she decapitates herself.
Will be so careful. He straddled her waist, cradled her face with his big, bloody hands and focused inwardly, on the demon, then the bond--the site of her rage. Oh, yes. He was at fault.
With only the barest hint of magic, Puck summoned ice while thrumming mental fingers along the bond, as if he were playing a harp. Where he touched, fire died and ice spread.
Beneath him, Gillian's motions slowed, then ceased altogether. Half-fearful of what he'd find, he opened his eyes to peer down at her. She lay on the sand, panting, studying him right back. Her eyes were dull, no hint of flame.
He swallowed a shout of denial, one to rival Indifference.
"What did you do to me?" she asked, and the flatness of her tone made him cringe.
He dismissed the thorns, freeing her. She made no move to rise. "I summoned ice," he replied. "For you."
"I'm Ice Woman, then."
Aye. "You are well, lass?"
"This is what you feel when you go cold? This nothingness?" As if she didn't care enough to await his answer, she shut her eyelids and let herself drift off to sleep.
Chest a maze of land mines, Puck gathered his sleeping wife in his arms and stood. "I'm going to tend to her wounds. Anyone tries to stop me, they die."
*
Gillian floated in and out of consciousness. More than once she noted the heated blanket of fur pressed against her side and rubbed against it. So soft!
At different times, familiar voices penetrated her awareness.
Puck: You were afraid of her.
William: I am all realms, all ages. I am darkness and light. I am power like you've never known. I fear nothing and no one.
Puck: Face it, Willy. You're still afraid.
William: I'm pissed! If you want your crown, you'll keep your hands off her from now on. Do you feel me? Oh, and one more thing. If she's indifferent when she awakens... She had better not be indifferent!
Puck: Keeping my hands to myself was never part of our bargain.
The conversation dwindled from her awareness, another soon taking its place.
Winter: Somehow you did what only the cuisle mo chroidhe syrup can do and calmed her. Nothing else has ever worked.
Cameron: Problem is, we've tapped all the trees.
Puck: There are plenty--in Connacht territory.
William: Perhaps, when the time comes, I'll wed her in Connacht territory. You can serve as a witness, Pucker.
He'd gone from sleeping together to marriage? Sigh.
Gillian had no idea how much time passed before she opened her eyes, memories of the battle flooding her. Oh...crap. She'd harmed William, then Puck, then tangled with Puck's ice.
Her rage had vanished. Every emotion had vanished. She had cared for nothing and no one. Even the thought of dying was meh. So was the thought of living. Hurt the people she loved? Go for it.
The strength Puck wielded to persevere without causing widespread collateral damage...incredible! Her admiration of him skyrocketed. He was a warrior of warriors. And okay, yes, she wanted to hug him and kiss him and lick him all over, which meant the ice inside her had already melted.
Different emotions swamped her. At the forefront? Dismay. It bounced her heart against her ribs. What kind of collateral damage had she caused?
Sitting up, she took stock. She was in her loft, in her own bed, alone and uninjured, wearing clean clothes. No head scarf. Muffled voices drifted from below...
She made her way to the first floor. Puck stood beside Peanut, feeding her pet an apple. My family...
Bounce, bounce. And not from dismay this time.
Puck had bathed, changed and anchored his damp hair into a warrior-chic ponytail, fewer razors than usual hanging from the ends. He looked flawless and otherworldly, so masculine he set her every feminine instinct on fire.
He looked like home.
Whoa! Home? She did not just think that. They'd fooled around once, and would hopefully go for round two soon. Because yes, she craved another orgasm and longed to witness--and cause--his. But she couldn't forget his tendency to freeze her out afterward. Or that he planned to let her go.
Would he ever think of her again? Maybe not. Until now, she hadn't fully comprehended the breadth of his apathy. To be hollowed out, completely devoid of emotion--she hadn't felt like a living being but lower than an animal.
There is no happy ending for you, Gillian Connacht.
She bit her tongue until she tasted the copper tang of blood. Stupid Oracles! Sure, happy endings weren't given away for free, but she would fight tooth and nail for hers. She would help Puck and William do their thing, even accept a divorce. As she learned what living without a bond felt like, she would rule the Shawazons and start dating, just like she'd hoped.
The idea wasn't repellent. Or exciting.
Why do I feel like I'm headed to my execution?
William stretched across the couch, a man of leisure. "I noticed Gillian doesn't wear your ring, Pucker. But then, you already gave her one, did you not? Five hundred years of suffering."
Puck went rigid. "Funny, when I held her in my arms, it wasn't your name she screamed."
Now William went rigid.
Dear Lord. "I thought you two were going to kiss and make up."
At once, all three males focused on her. William eased up, silent, watching her with something akin to suspicion. Peanut trotted over to nuzzle her, as if to say, You can do no wrong, Momma.
Puck... Oh, my. His dark eyes devoured her.
Do not react! "I Hulked-out," she said, shifting from one foot to the other to assuage the sudden ache between her legs. "I'm so sorry, William. And I know that's not good enough. But how am I supposed to atone for ripping off your arm? Fruit basket? Hug? Offer to pay for one hundred years of therapy? Say you forgive me. Please! Because, when I say I'm sorry, I'm one hundred percent sincere. I mean it."
"Poppet, I can't--"
"You can't forgive her?" Puck interrupted, and she thought she glimpsed a taunting gleam in his eyes. "You're being unreasonable, Randy Man. She said sorry and she was s
incere."
William tensed with aggression, ready to strike. "Is this how it's going to be? If you want to play, Pucker, we'll play."
"No!" Gillian pressed her hands together, forming a steeple. "No playing, no fighting. William, your gift to me--to pay me back for allowing you to forgive me--is to kiss and make up with Puck. No? Too soon? Okay, well, maybe you guys should stay away from me. What if I rip your head off next time? What if I kill you?"
Her friend offered a chiding smile. "I can't stay angry with you. You're forgiven--and I'll merely thank you for allowing it. But your worries are unfounded. I'm too strong, too fast."
Argh! Would he ever take her skills seriously? "Yeah, but what if you're not? You weren't strong or fast enough to stop your arm amputation."
He spread two perfect arms, all I'm the last sane man in the universe. "I was...surprised. Next time I'll be prepared."
"How about this," Puck said, as if her question was totally logical and she was smart for asking. "I'll rip off William's limbs at random times. That way, you aren't the only one causing him pain. We'll share responsibility equally."
"That is a really sweet offer," she replied, her hand fluttering over her heart. "Thank you."
"Sweet?" William bellowed.
"But," she added, "what if I rip off your arms? Maybe I should--"
"Stay behind? Excellent idea." William nodded.
"--do the mission by myself," she finished with a frown. He wanted to leave her behind?
"If you rip off my arms," Puck said, "you have to feed me by hand until they regrow."
Why, why, why did she have to like his response so much better than William's? "Deal."
"How often do Hulk-outs happen?"
"Once or twice a month."
"Then I'm the one who owes you an apology," he said, looking away. "I'm to blame for your rages. Emotions I bury are traveling through our bond, and you're the one forced to deal with them."
Dude! Really? The rage belonged to Puck? Well, that didn't not make sense.
The guy either felt too much or nothing at all. What a terrible existence.
"All right. Enough chatter." William swiped up a pile of folded T-shirts and stood. "We have a mission to start. You'll be pleased to know I took the liberty of making team uniforms." Smirking, he sauntered toward her.
Peanut hissed at him, a clear warning to stay away.
