Thaddeus twisted her around, slipping his hand from her biceps to her wrist, pulled her back to his front, and held her tight against him. She swallowed a shriek before it had a chance to escape her lips as a new wash of horror poured over her from head to toe. She was completely encompassed by the Fae at her back, his arm a steel bar pinning her to him from shoulder to hip. He splayed the fingers of his free hand in front of her, palm up, the manila folder containing her assault pictures and reports from that night a month and a half ago fanning out for her to see in midair.
Thaddeus’s mouth brushed her ear, sparking a rainfall of tingles down her body to pool heavily in her belly. His scent suffused her to her soul. She clenched her teeth, fighting the lightheadedness his nearness caused. The rising anxiety facing those photos stoked.
“The one responsible for this deserves not a tear you shed, nor the fear I can smell on you. Lie all you want to me, littlehuman. I know the truth.” He closed his fist. The papers and pictures dropped to the floor in a scattered heap. “Lying to yourself will cause naught more than suffering in solitude. Such miserable torture.”
“What would you know about suffering?” His proximity stole her fight down to the defiance in her voice. The strength that surrounded her came as false security, a sense of comfort she would be foolish to indulge. He would destroy her before he protected her. Destroy her down to her last will to fight. “Isn’t torturing others your forte?”
He lifted his head. A quiet chuckle fanned across her hair.
“Would you care to find out?”
Rori twisted against his grip to face him.
She stumbled at the unexpected release of his restricting embrace and the loss of his support at her back.
The bedroom door flew open. Cael came to a halt half a step in, his keen eyes scanning the room, lowering to the mess of pictures and papers around her feet. When his attention cut up to her, his eyes narrowed. Rori hugged herself, only then realizing the tremors that consumed her.
“He was here,” Cael said quietly. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Rori blinked several times, glancing around at the now Thaddeus-less room. Only the scent of his cologne lingered. She shook her head, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. Cael glanced over his shoulder before he crossed the bedroom, taking her elbows in a gentle grip. His eyes dropped to her arm, the same arm Thaddeus had held until his sudden disappearance. She followed his gaze.
Healed.
The bruises from Rich’s attack were gone.
Cael snickered and shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”
Rori pulled her arm back and pushed up the sleeve of herscrub top, the furrow between her brows deepening as she examined her unmarred skin. Not even a hint of a bruise, redness, nothing. Speechless, she looked up at Cael. Lost. She couldn’t make sense of it.
You don’twantto make sense of it.
No. She wouldn’t because it would open up a sliver of vulnerability she refused to allow Thaddeus to exploit.
11
The cavernous corridors reeked of mold this eve, burning his nostrils like never before. The trickling of water along the ground provided an additional layer of noise to hide his footsteps, in case Grison and his men had strategically placed a reversal spell to undo the invisibility spell he’d woven around himself. ’Twas evident the new movement feared something—mayhap himself?—with the reinforcements woven into the magic hiding the doorways and branched tunnels. He spent more time than he cared unraveling new magic and overriding weak wards to tear down the façade.
In the distance, he noted the sound of music. Most likely from the pathetic dining hall. He chuckled coldly. While all others frolicked in this dismal existence, his saviors included, he was placed on assignment. An order that would hopefully dirty his hands beyond reparation. To trap him in one lethal situation or expose him to another. One way or another, his end result would be the same.
Death.
His only potential escape would come in the form ofdisappearing altogether. Leaving this realm, finding some secret place in an uninhabited unknown, and living out his existence. Alone. ’Twas not an option, however. Not with Grison targeting Cael for death.
His step faltered. He scowled as the sweet scent of one haunting woman teased his nostrils and set his heart into a wild rhythm. She alone burned him from the inside out. Threatened to melt the black ice beneath the surface of his skin. Penetrated true through his chest and into the depths of his heart. Her frame had become branded against his body, so petite, fragile. Easy to crush. Easy to?—
Nay, enough!
Protect.
He squeezed his eyes shut, fisting his fingers by his sides. Aye, he could crush her in his embrace, and yet the way he wanted to crush her had somehow taken a different turn. She had felt so…perfect against him. So enticingly perfect that he hadn’t wished to release her. Alas, Cael, damn Cael, with no regard to silence and privacy spells, interrupted at a most inopportune time.
Mayhap it had been perfect timing, for seeing her cry broke something inside him. He felt the crack, the resonant snap within his soul, at the sound of her quiet sobs and the scent of her salty tears. Tears brought on by a mortal who caused her pain and left scars, created fear within her heart. No one had the right to cause such harm to the woman, lest ’twas him. He alone would deliver her torture or her salvation.
Bloody hell. The word “torture” alone twists your organs into a knot.
“Focus.”
Daeanna.
