“You have no idea what you do to me,” he pants when he comes up for air. “I love you, Freya.” He moves his hold on the ropes from my chest to the loop at my throat and pulls it tight. “Run and fight this as much as you want, darling, but I willalwayslove you.”
My chest expands beneath the ropes, River’s words pouring into all the cuts and scars and filling the cracks with light. My love for him is a living, breathing thing beating inside my heart and I lose myself in the dark depths of his eyes.
“I love you too, River. I never stopped loving you.”
He uses his grip on the harness to lower me back down to the bed and then he takes over, thrusting deeper inside of me until my lips are parted, silent pleasure bursting from my core and cascading all over me.
River’s length pulses, his release hot against my inner walls as we reach our climax together. Tied together. In love together.
I settle back into the bed, letting River’s scent surround me. For the first time since the guys found me at Carmen’s, that love doesn’t scare me.
The guys and I will be just fine. I get the feeling River will accept nothing less.
30
FREYA
Alistair watches me from the laptop screen set on my bed as I pace back and forth, twirling the new knife River got me in my hand. It’s engraved with all of our names and is one of the many gifts he’s left for me to find over the past few days.
He’s doing a lot of things to make amends with me, including deactivating the locking mechanism on my bedroom door so I could close it and have some privacy for my session with Alistair. I must have checked I could open it a hundred times and I’m starting to think I should have taken River up on his offer to have the appointment inhisbedroom because just being in here is making me edgy.
It’s been two days since River and I made up and, despite the gifts, I’m already angry with him again. Except this time it’s because he’s being too kind. Too gentle. He’s treating me with kid gloves and it’s pissing me the fuck off.
I draw to a stop and look down at the computer. “Do you know what I hate?”
Alistair steeples his fingers together.
“I hate that I’m so freaking angry all of the time.”
“Freya, you have a lot of trauma?—”
I cut off his smooth, calm voice. “I’ve always had a lot of trauma, but I was dealing. I was fine.”
Alistair takes off his glasses. “And you’ve only recently uncovered old memories. Memories of someone violating you.”
My skin crawls but Alistair’s gaze is thoughtful, steady. “I’d be worried if you weren’t angry.” He pauses then adds, “I’d be worried if you weren’tscared.”
The adrenaline that had me pacing drains out of me and I put down the knife before sinking to the floor. I move the laptop so Alistair’s on the carpet and I’m leaning against the bed frame, my arms resting on my knees. “She’s so young,” I whisper. “The girl he’s taken. Harley.” I roll my tongue over her name. “That sounds like the name of a fighter, don’t you think?”
Alistair stays quiet.
“I need her to be a fighter,” I mutter under my breath, picking at a loose string on the pocket of my cargo pants.
“You’re scared for her,” Alistair says.
I nod, my braid brushing against my shoulder. “I’m scared and I’m fucking furious. At Zach for breaking our deal and taking her. At myself for fucking believing he would just sit back and not hurt anyone else.” I twist my lips and shake my head. “I understand why I’m angry,” I tell Alistair. “But I keep getting angry at the wrong people.” I can’t be wasting energy fighting the guys when we should be focusing on finding Harley.
Alistair puts his glasses back on and says, “And what do you think might help with that?”
The bed frame digs into my back as I slump into it. “It would help if everyone stopped treating me like something was wrong. Jude and Oz are hovering. River keeps holding back, worried he might break me. Eli’s the only one who isn’t acting like I’m damaged.”
“Have you told them that?”
“I keep telling Jude and Oz I’m fine. Jude’s been shot for christ sake, but he’s rubbish at letting anyone take care of him.”
Alistair’s right brow peaks and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, alright, I get the irony.”
