Page 101 of Ascendant King

She threw up her hands, clearly frustrated, but stalked down the hall. I waited until I saw her turn toward her own room, andthen I stepped into the master bedroom, closing the door behind me.

Cade stood in the center of the room, staring blankly at the bed, although I had the feeling that he wasn’t seeing anything. I saw his crown shimmering on his head, there one second, then gone the next.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

Cade turned to me, his expression incredulous. “No.”

He didn’t even list all the reasons why he shouldn’t be okay, starting toward the bags before shaking his head and turning toward the bathroom. By the time he had turned in a complete circle, returning a baleful gaze to the bags, I had some idea of what he was feeling.

“Come on.” I took his hand, leading him into the bathroom. Inside, I slowly stripped his clothes, feeling the tacky crunch of dried blood, smelling the dirt and sweat. Leaving him in his underwear, I walked to the shower, turning it on. When it was warm enough, I ushered him inside, shedding my own clothing before joining him.

Washing both of us took up all the mental space I had left. I focused on cleaning until the water ran clear.

Then, I pressed fingers to his forehead, guiding his head back, wetting his hair before working shampoo into the strands. Wet, his hair moved like silk against my fingers, and I tried not to feel anything about it.

Now wasn’t the time. We were exhausted, and there were so many details to work out. And worse, we hadn’t achieved the one thing we had both wanted.

After I rinsed and conditioned his hair, he raised a hand to my wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. He positioned us so my head was under the water. I watched him until I had to close my eyes, the water flowing over my face.

I let him press me until my back hit the tile wall. His lips found mine, desperate. The slick feel of his skin against mine made me moan in pleasure. His body was hotter than the water, and he dug his hand into my hair, wrenching my head back so that he could kiss my neck, mouthing along my throat.

I wanted to let him consume me, take everything I had, and push for more. The past few days had wrenched every emotion I felt about my family and my past to the surface. I had faced my home, the man who had killed my siblings, my sister, and my parents’ death, all within the past week.

There was nothing left. I had nothing left to give. I wanted to let him consume me, take everything I had left of myself, and swallow me whole.

“Come here,” Cade said, gentling the kiss. He pulled me back under the water, the heat hitting like pinpricks on my chilled skin.

There was a click, and I opened my eyes to see him opening the shampoo bottle and lathering his hands. He scrubbed his fingers through my hair, dragging his short nails along the scalp.

He pushed back on my forehead, rinsing the shampoo out. Then, he nudged me back out from under the water, one hand still buried in my hair, the other hand at my waist. He squeezed a generous handful of conditioner out and used his fingers to rake it through my hair.

My shoulders drooped, my head lolling forward as he massaged at my scalp, working out every stray fleck of blood, every twig and streak of dirt. He cleaned my body of the evidence of what had happened, and I wished he could clean my heart, clean my soul, of what I had done.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, rinsing out the conditioner.

“What?” I blinked my eyes open and caught his.

The blue that I had always found so reassuringly cold, so untouchable, was cracked and broken. He looked away first.

“No, I already said that what your father did wasn’t your fault.” I reached for him, but he shied away, turning off the water and sliding out of the shower.

“What he did wasn’t my fault, but whatIdid was completely within my control.” He turned his back to me, grabbing a towel. “The way I treated you was unforgivable.”

I actually laughed. “You clearly never saw how Declan treatedhisemployees.”

Cade didn’t laugh, his shoulders going tight.

I sighed. “Cade. I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I forgave you when you stuck with me after we left House Bartlett. If I didn’t, I would have left you behind.”

“No.” Cade shook his head. “I let the past—the incorrect past, alie—color my view of you and all werewolves, and I treated you like a servant. No, less than a servant. I almost got youkilled?—”

“Cade,” I interrupted, stepping close to him, wrapping my damp arm around his chest. “If we’re going to re-litigate how we acted, then I lied to you for months. I kept secrets because I was terrified of your house. Let’s just… let it go. You aren’t responsible for what your father did.”

Cade turned his head, his damp hair dragging across my chest. “You are just as good as your mother wanted you to be.”

His words had no bite, and when he turned in my arms, dropping the towel, his eyes were as dark and deep as the Arctic Ocean.

I was wrong. I didn’t want Cade to consume me because he already had everything I was. Every part of me belonged to him—my entireselfbelonged to him.