For a long moment, he stood before me, burning.
His brow crinkled, and he fisted his hands and scrunched his lids shut like he was concentrating on letting the fire consume him.
Lashes fluttered.
Silver eyes pooled with sadness.
“No,” he said brokenly. “I can’t turn it off.”
As he stood before me, half-naked, layers of bronze rippled across his immense torso, his shoulders hunched forward with defeat like he’d thought this could save us.
A ripple of pain shivered down my spine, and I pretended not to feel it.
I mumbled, “At least you tried.”
We both knew it wasn’t enough.
We’d both heard my screams.
“Look at me.”
I stared at the floor.
“Please,” he begged.
I glanced up.
The flaming devil took a step closer, and his expression fell as he whispered, “I’m sorry about how I spoke to you earlier. I was out of line—and it does hurt.”
A blush stained the tops of his cheekbones as he stared down at me.
His silver eyes were pleading.
Scorpius swore as he scrambled out of his bunk and smacked at the flames, and the rest of the room woke up around us. Men shouted. Someone grabbed a bucket from the bathroom and threw water on the flames. There was chaos all around.
Neither of us moved.
“Just not how you meant, Arabella.” His baritone voice was soft.
He leaned closer and breathed out.
Our breath mingled.
Surprisingly soft lips pressed gently against mine, and they were incredibly warm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my mouth. “Please forgive me.” Wide palms cradled the sides of my face, and heavily callused fingers traced gently across my cheekbones.
Pain streaked sharply across my back.
Heat burned against my mouth as a different type of fire spread inside my chest.
As his tongue battled against mine, I tasted whiskey and tobacco. My skin tingled with awareness.
Knees went weak.
The bed burned and men yelled. As they tried to put out the fire, Malum kissed me like he was trying to devour me.
Pain streaked hotter down my spine.
It reminded me.
