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“Okay,” I managed, the first word I’d spoken.
“Be nice,” Paesha said, throwing an elbow into Orin before disappearing down the hallway.
We stood in silence, staring for several quiet moments.
“I see you’re in one piece tonight?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “The boss was busy. The show wrapped early. I guess he’s planning something big for tomorrow.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s no cauterizing wounds or bandaging gashes tonight. I think we’re running low on supplies.”
He scratched the back of his head, though he seemed… nervous?
“What?”
“Walk with me?”
I didn’t hesitate to take his outstretched hand, but the moment the connection was made, I suddenly fell right back into that place that made me feel so lost. I wasn’t the confident woman trapping an asshole into his own power. I was just a woman, standing with my new husband, so, so aware of every single one of my shortcomings.
He led us out of the house quietly, never letting go of my hand. We were several paces away from the house before he spoke. “I thought… I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just… When you weren’t home tonight when we got here, I had this terrible feeling something bad happened. In the past, I told myself you were out hunting and murdering and slaughtering, and I’d sit and stew with that until I couldn’t. But this was different. I knew you weren’t. I know you wouldn’t unless Death gives you a name. But this sense of dread just came over me, and I couldn’t shake it. And then you weren’t home, and no one had seen you. I thought maybe the king…”
He was beautiful in the moonlight, confessing without saying the words that he cared. That he’d worried about me. I lifted my free hand to his cold cheek, and he closed his eyes, turning into my touch.
“I’m sorry everything is broken, Deyanira. But I want to fix it. I don’t think I’m supposed to want that. Hell, I don’t think I’m supposed to want you, but here we are, and I can’t help the way my heart fucking aches for you.”
He moved a hand into my hair, pulling me until we stood chest to chest. I had to tilt my head back just to peek into those eyes that wrecked me. And there, for just a moment, I wondered if I would ever look at him without hoping he would touch me.
“It does?”
“There are days when I wish you would draw that pretty blade from your side and slide it right into my heart because I think it would hurt less than wanting you and telling myself I can’t have you.”
I pulled away, shivers creeping down my arms at the loss of his warmth. “Why can’t you have me? Am I not enough?”
“I am not enough. You are the stars and the storm, Wife. Somehow, you’re both peace and destruction. Nightmare and a daydream. You’re hell and home. Fear and solace. Slumber and panic. Kindness and rage. Light is easy to love, but I’ve seen your darkness, and I want that, too. I crave it. I want to fucking drown it in. But how does any man live up to that? Deserve that?”
I smiled. “I’ve heard it starts with stabbing, so I think we’re halfway there.”
He yanked me to him again, stroking his thumb over my cheeks, brushing the tips of my white lashes as my heart pounded against his, melting something inside of me. “The problem is there’s darkness inside me, too, and no one can ever know about it.”
I swallowed a gasp as I realized what he was saying. A silent confession if ever I’d witnessed one. He really had killed that man. And if the Maestro ever learned of it, he wouldn’t need me when he could exploit his nephew so much easier. “Then don’t tell a soul. Never speak of it aloud.”
Dark lashes fell to his cheeks as he drew a steady breath. “Never a soul,” he repeated.
The chilly breeze wrapped around us as we stood inches apart, lost in each other and the moment.
“It’s cold,” he whispered. “Let’s go back inside.”
“One more minute?” I could hear the shameless plea in my voice, and I didn’t care. The second he learned about my deal with the devil, marking me as reckless as he feared, everything would be broken anyway. So, we stayed like that, lost beneath a sea of stars, standing in secrets so fragile, the world was sure to break soon, and our tender moments would become simple casualties of the truth.
The front door clicked shut, and he hung his head. “Paesha’s probably in her room. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Conversation over. He had held back, and I could do nothing but stand there like a fool, wondering how he could pour his heart out to me with such confessions and still walk away. But then I considered the way he fought. The war mounting inside of him. I was his problem. I’d been his enemy. And those truths didn’t just vanish with a few moments of vulnerability.
Each step to Paesha’s room was a heavy one, coiled in confusion and sadness. Maybe I should have told him the truth out there, but it would have only complicated things more than they were. As long as Drexel had a grip on him, he would never let himself get closer. There was too much danger in weaknesses.
My knuckles grazed the Huntress’s door so quietly, I didn’t know if she’d hear me, but when it swung open, revealing the disastrous room, she grabbed my forearm, yanked me inside, and shut the door.
She crossed her arms over her chest with her mismatched eyes pinned to me. “It would do him some good to have a little fun, Maiden. Honestly, you, too. The tension in this house is too much. Why haven’t you kissed him yet?”
