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Chapter 49 – Talia
Something shifted inthe room. Whatever it was, the force of nature was powerful enough to drag me from a dead sleep. I pushed through the grip of pain and the bite of dehydration, anxiety gnawing at my stomach. But as I looked around, blinking through the disorientation and brain fog, a sweet wash of release sagged through me when I saw that formidable form. Even now, in this horrific situation, energy sparked through every fiber of my being, and I lit up like a damn Christmas tree to see him.
“Constantine! You found me,” I breathed. My heart leapt to my throat as I peered around him, but I didn’t see anyone else in the dark hall. “Someone kidnapped me! It was that guard, the one with the russet hair. Please tell me you didn’t just walk into a trap, and I’m the bait!”
Concern for his wellbeing gave me the strength to push myself off the floor. But as I straightened, ready to rush into his arms, I froze. The terrible glint in his eye was fierce, greater than anything I’d ever seen before. Even when he was filled with wrath, that rigid control was always in place. But not right now—the man who stood before me was terrifying.
“What happened? What’s changed?” I asked with a small tremble in my voice.
Only his ragged breathing told me he was really here and not some warped stone monster guarding a Gothic church. His refusal to answer me was a half answer in itself. He also looked at me differently and wasn’t rushing to hold me....
No! Oh, no!That was the face of someone whose world had fallen apart. And I suddenly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he blamed me for whatever had happened.
That look in his eye was hatred. Pure, unadulterated wrath directed right at me. The beautiful man who’d saved me, who had become my ally and my lover, was gone. I swallowed hard, my tongue thick and my throat dry. I wanted to yell, “Whatever happened, I'm being set up!” But I held the words back, unsure he would even hear me.
In my peripheral, I noticed he held something in his left hand; the right was hanging loose at his side. It was a bottle of water. I didn’t drop his gaze to draw attention to it. No matter how badly I wanted the water and the fact that my body would start shutting down if I didn’t get that liquid, something warned me that if I asked for it, it wouldn’t end well. There might be other details I was missing, but it felt like a powerplay to keep gazing back into those dark eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, Constantine stepped forward and grabbed my sweat-soaked hair. It hurt, but I refused to flinch as he pulled my head back, forcing my neck to the point of pain. His fingers gripped my throat as he popped the top off the flimsy plastic cap and pressed the water bottle to my lips. I opened my mouth for him. The shock of the cold liquid had me drawing in a sharp inhale. It was difficult to look at Constantine from this angle, but I didn’t break eye contact as I swallowed a few precious gulps. My sandpaper throat ached.
And then, too soon, the water was gone.
“Do it. Whatever you came here to do, just do it.” The dare slipped from my lips.
His nostril flared.
The only reason this was happening was because some huge misunderstanding had taken place. Whether some enemy kidnapped me—or heaven forbid the worse possibility, that Constantine had ordered it—he was here now. And it was me who was the foe in his eyes. Protesting or fighting him would only stoke the fire. Instead, my hope was that tempting him to do what he craved would test his resolve. Cards had obviously been played, but in here, the battle was solely between him and me.
“We both know you want to. And it might be the only way to sate the demons in your chest. I won’t hate you for killing me,” I added the last as a whisper.
But as I spoke, Constantine released his grip on my hair and stumbled back—as if I’d struck him.
There was a breathless pause while we watched one another. What would he choose? Had my offering been the wrong play on my part?
An imperceptible shudder raced through his body. Constantine dropped his gaze and drew it slowly back up my body. I was suddenly cold as that heavy, dark gaze ran over me. Before he could meet my eyes, he turned, and without a single word, he left. The door slammed behind him, leaving only one answer and a whole damn list of questions. As the lock clicked into place, I dropped my gaze to the half empty bottle of water on the floor, wondering if he meant for me to have it.
As desperately thirsty as I was, I knew that its sweet relief would only be temporary. Something terrible had happened to put me back on the other side of this war, and it was obvious that whatever it was had been administered by my family’s hand. But from the way Constantine had left things unfinished, turning and leaving before he came to do whatever he’d set out to do, there was hope. A feeble thread had caused him to pull back, and if I pulled on that gossamer tendril, it would likely snap. If I truly wanted him to make his own decision, the best thing I could do was wait until my fate was decided.
I lay back down on the scratchy blanket and curled into myself, my back to the door. Sooner or later, I’d know his answer. Either the butcher would be the death of me, or the husband would be my salvation.
