Page 237

Rion

Gods, she’d smelled absolutely divine. It was a perfume, no, a drug that appealed to his most primal instincts. Rion didn’t care that he’d almost had a city crush him to dust nor that he’d almost drowned in a darkness he couldn’t remember. He only cared about her.

And that was exactly the reason he’d kept his hands to himself and trudged up the stairs.

Dirt crumbled from his clothes with every step and littered the wooden staircase. He grimaced at the offending flakes, knowing the easiest way to clean them up would be to use his magic. Magic that scared his mate.

Rion sighed and silently shut the bathroom door. The tiny window on the far side of the space was cracked slightly. It let the steam roll out, yet did absolutely nothing to remove Arianna’s scent.

The sweetness of it was intoxicating and his blood strummed through his veins, begging him to go to her and kiss her until he’d memorized every inch of her skin.

But he couldn’t. She allowed him to hold her hand and she leaned into his warmth so long as he didn’t lean too far back.

It was like dangling a bone just out of a starving dog’s reach. He needed her. Was desperate for her. But Rion couldn’t have her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He sighed, tugged his clothes off, and let them fall to the floor. The vanity was small and Rion couldn’t glimpse himself in the already steamed mirror, but he knew well enough what he looked like. Years of honed muscles had faded from malnourishment. His skin was ashen and the black spots beneath his eyes were so prominent, he knew he looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Which wasn’t entirely untrue.

He’d never considered himself a vain being, but his appearance made him feel inadequate somehow.

Rion turned the shower faucet to near scalding temperatures and stepped inside. He spun to let the heat hit his shoulders first and melt some of the tension from his body. Then Rion twisted so the hot water pelted against his face.

The feeling was magnificent.

This was only his second shower since his confinement. He hadn’t felt clean after the first. Not even close. Even now, he wondered if he’d ever get the dirt off his body.

Rion stretched his arms up and grimaced when his sore muscles protested the movement. He’d be lucky if he could move at all tomorrow.

He tilted his face up to the water again, then reached for the soap.

Everything in him coiled in on itself again. It smelled like her. It smelled like roses too, but Arianna’s scent was everywhere all at once. It drove him wild, and Rion had to press his forehead against the cool tile to steady himself.

This was a new kind of hell.

After a brief reprieve, Rion grabbed the shampoo and ran his fingers through his filthy hair, scrubbing his scalp until it burned. He grabbed the damp rag, the same one Arianna had used, and washed himself from head to toe. It never felt like enough.

After a third pass, he gave up and let the water rinse the suds from his body. Bruises were forming and the scrapes across his skin burned from the soap, but Rion ignored it all as he finally let reality sink in.

They’d won.

He was free.

A knot finally began to unravel in his chest.

Free.

He wished he could summon his magic just to remind himself, but it was too weak. And he didn’t want to frighten his mate, either.

Free, he kept repeating. Free, yet still caged by Niall’s influence and actions.

It might as well have been iron keeping Arianna and him apart.

Rion clenched his aching fists trying to work the tension from his joints. He wouldn’t push her. Not ever. If she needed time, he’d give her eternity. If she never wanted to share a bed with him again, then he’d take her hand every morning and relish the little bit of contact she allowed.

He’d bend and break himself to her will. Whatever she wanted.

Light footsteps echoed in the hall and stopped before the door. Rion froze, a dozen thoughts racing through his mind all at once.

Was Arianna injured? Had Niall somehow escaped and come to finish what he’d started? Was Pádraigín waiting outside to exact revenge?