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Ripping his blade free, I mimicked his motion, letting the blade fly as it shot directly between his legs and clattered to the floor of the hall behind him.
His eyes lit in defiance as I stepped around the coffee table and brushed past him. He snatched my wrist, whipping me around until I was close enough to see the tips of the black veins creeping up his neckline. A breath caught in my throat, a momentary distraction as he moved like a predator, grip firm until my back collided with the wall.
There was so much fire and passion in everything he did. Orin’s hand loosened, fingers trailing down my arms in an inferno that left me yearning for him to touch me somewhere else. Anywhere else. I don’t know if it was the fact that we’d both silently decided this would never be a real marriage, or because of how hot the hatred burned when we let it, but there was something keeping us right here, stuck in a moment that we weren’t strong enough to walk away from.
He gripped the side of my face, eyes searching mine for permission or hesitation. I wasn’t sure. I grabbed his wrists, boldly slipping into a place I couldn’t escape from. His dark lashes fell to his cheeks as he seemed to breathe me in, broad shoulders lifting and falling as my knees weakened. I wasn’t sure if I should kiss him or stab him.
Instead, I warned him. “I will never be a compliant wife.”
He leaned close enough I had to tilt my head back to look at his brutally handsome face. “I would expect nothing less.”
“Don’t tell lies, Orin. It’s not an attractive trait.”
He smoothed a thumb over my bottom lip. “Maybe I don’t want you to be attracted to me. Maybe I’m the monster in disguise, and my anger is to protect you… from me.”
“I don’t need to be protected from someone I am not afraid of.”
His hand slid down until the heartbeat in my neck throbbed against his palm. His fingers tightened. “Are you flirting or fighting with me right now, Deyanira?”
“Neither. I’m simply standing here, willing to face your demons rather than back away and leave you alone with them. I know them as intimately as you do. There’s madness within the darkness you’re hiding, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. Fiercely. “And I think it’s you, the way you consume me. You are the darkness.”
I shook my head, smiling. “No, Husband. I am the abyss that calls to your shadows, the tempest that matches your storm. We are not mere darkness, we are the symphony of our scars.”
He leaned his forehead to mine, holding my gaze steady within his own. “Two sides of the same coin.”
I could not answer. Could hardly swallow over his tight grip on my throat. Minutes passed by. Years even, locked in that moment with him. His lips were inches from mine. His solid body pressed into me, as if he could not get close enough. My skin hummed with desire. Each second building an ache low in my belly until the tension between us swelled to an immeasurable degree.
Do it, I begged him silently. Kiss me, you damn fool. End the agony.
But instead, he pushed away, the war between madness and sanity returning. “End your deal with the Maestro. Find something else to offer him. Give him the fucking world, Deyanira. But do not give him yourself. You had no right to make that bargain. You already belong to me.”
And with that, he stalked out of the room, snatching the dagger from the floor as he went.
Chapter 39
“You’re late,” Hollis said, snapping his pocket watch closed.
“We’ve been doing this for months, old man. When have I ever been on time?”
The soft glow of the firelight danced across the intricately patterned wallpaper of the sitting room. I sat on a worn armchair, my eyes fixed on a finely embroidered bodice he held in his hands, his fingers swollen with age but still skillful.
He smiled, those kind eyes melting a bit of my soul, giving the peace that he always seemed to conjure. “I know. But I like to remind you so that one day you’ll think back on these days and remember how you kept an old man waiting. Couldn’t sleep?”
“How’d you guess?” I reached for the familiar fabric he’d laid on the arm of the chair. The furniture creaked slightly in protest.
“I’ve had my fair share of restless nights. He’ll come around, Dey. They always do. Here, let me show you again,” he said in his gentle, raspy voice, beckoning me to move the bodice onto my lap.
“You can show me a thousand times, and I’m always going to tangle the string on the knot. You know this.”
“Such a pessimist, Little Dove.”
I handed the project back to him. “Someone has to balance out Thea’s optimism.”
“Speaking of balance… any leads on your pursuit?”
I shook my head, releasing a heavy sigh of defeat. “I think it’s a lost cause. I hate to stop hunting for the Life Maiden, but the only things I have are the pages from my father’s study. And you know we’ve poured over them. There’s nothing that really matters in there. I need to focus on my bargain with Drexel now.”
