Page 32 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

Ouch . Nothing stung his pride quite like her casually dismissing what, in his opinion, had been one of the more euphoric experiences of his life.

The shots at his character were one thing, insulting his ability to please a woman was entirely uncalled for.

She had hardly given him a fair chance. That was one night and he’d been holding back for her sake.

Given ample time and the freedom to act without fear of crossing a boundary, she might not be so dismissive.

Hell, he didn’t even need a bed. He’d have her screaming with just his knees on the floor and her legs on his shoulders.

But that was not the point and hardly appropriate for an apology. He was here to make amends for taking advantage, not promise to do it better the next time.

Because there could be no next time.

“I know I behaved less than chivalrously—” She scoffed, loudly enough to interrupt. “I am here,” he continued, pointedly, “To apologize. After what transpired in my apartment, to push you away like that was…particularly, insensitive.”

“I don’t need an apology. I’m fine. Like I said, it meant very little.” The quick dart of her eyes said otherwise.

“Regardless. You deserved an apology.”

“I don’t want it.”

“That is your choice,” he said through his teeth. Impossible woman.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He shook his head. This was hardly the place to be having this conversation.

They were standing in the gardens behind her house, the space cut off from neighbors by a tall fence.

Immaculately tended bushes of flowers and gravel pathways created a serene environment and an ill-fitting backdrop for the tense atmosphere.

If her father had posted guards—and rightly so, Lord Wilde must know more than he let on—then Devin was not eager to be found here with Miranda.

“Where were you going?” Devin asked, glancing up at the window he assumed she’d climbed from.

“Not your business anymore,” she snapped. Without another word, she turned and marched for the gate. He darted after her, slipping through before she could slam it in his face.

“The guards will hear,” he warned just as she was about to let it fall closed. Miranda growled as she caught the gate and let it gently click into place.

“Don’t follow me,” she hissed, turning on her heel to continue toward wherever she planned to go at such an hour. Perhaps he had been right in assuming she regularly traversed the city at night.

“Miranda, stop.” He stepped in front of her. She appeared to consider a full-on collision for half a moment—a collision that he would see the worst of—and he braced.

“What? What do you have to say?” She stopped just shy of running him over, but made sure to back a few steps away so that they were never too close.

He’d made her angry before, but there was something about her anger now that unsettled him.

Beneath the anger she hid genuine hurt and he was the cause.

He flinched as she crossed her arms and looked away from him.

He may have come here drunk, but between her boot in his face and her eyes stabbing through his chest, his inebriation had dulled considerably.

“You don’t have to accept my apology, Mira, but, I need you to know that my behavior had nothing to do with you.

” He looked away, more angry at himself than she could possibly be.

“I did not…” he cleared his throat, “I do not regret anything nor was I trying to give you the impression that bedding you was my only aim—”

She raised an eyebrow.

Fuck, he was floundering. He’d never had to apologize for his behavior. This is why he avoided virgins. He was loath to toy with a woman’s genuine emotions or take advantage of their innocence. “It was not my aim to take any liberties with you, or even to kiss you.”

“ I kissed you , I believe.”

“Yes.” He did not need the reminder right then. Did not need a reminder of how willingly she had jumped him. Nor her ardor as her nails had cut into his neck…the firm command in her voice…

Do it.

Now you’re going to disappoint me, Devin?

He shook the lust from his thoughts. Divine above, he thought it impossible to resist her before .

He kept his breathing even as he continued, “I meant, that it was not my reason for associating with you. I was determined not to cross any sort of line with you for the duration of our acquaintance. And then I did, and I lashed out unjustly.”

She let out a breath, her posture easing, but she stayed silent.

Devin had never cared to gain the favor of someone he had wronged before. It was easier to just let the relationship end. But right now, he cared about nothing more than Miranda’s forgiveness and how much he craved just one more chance to lick the sweat from her skin.

Frustrated, he changed the subject.

“Where are you planning to go at this hour, Mira?” He knew it wasn’t to see him. Her anger had made that clear. Perhaps planning to knock on Graves’s door and finish what she nearly started in the study? As ludicrous as the idea sounded, he would not have put it past her.

She bristled at the nickname, but otherwise ignored him.

He considered how to word his concerns without getting slapped. “Graves will be looking for a way to get you alone. Traversing the streets at night without an escort is the exact opening he needs.”

“I’m not stupid,” she snapped. “I know he’s going to retaliate.

But I’m not going to let my parents lock me in my bedroom while I wait for it to happen, either.

I worked too hard to let someone else fix my problems. I’m the one who found what Graves was really planning.

I get to decide what I do with it. He decided to marry my sister the last time I pissed him off, I can’t imagine what he’d do to me now, but I’m not going to mope about while he decides. ”

Anger flared as he asked, “What happened the last time?”

Her eyes went wide, vulnerable. She shook her head. “I don’t have to tell you.”

She moved around him, continuing on her path down the block.

There were very few places she could reach inside the city on foot.

Devin came up behind her and guided her toward a shadowed area nestled in the overgrown foliage of one of the houses and out of the streetlight’s glow.

There was hardly any fight as she shrugged his arm away.

“Tell—” he started to order, but then stopped when he didn’t even recognize his own voice. Whatever she had to say, he both wanted to know and feared hearing it.

Resigned that the only fair way to know what happened was an equal trade, Devin spoke first, “I served under Graves in the war. He was nobility, I was a sixteen-year-old who’d lied about my age so I could have access to food and a bed.

One day our unit was caught in an ambush.

We were hunkered down under cover, safe for the moment, when Graves ordered that we retreat.

“I argued against it. We were pinned down, but holding our position well enough. His cowardice became clear when he ordered us to cover him as he made a break back for friendly territory. All the members of my unit, friends and allies, were little more than his shield.” He didn’t go into more detail.

Not to spare her the horror so much as to spare himself. “Only three of us made it back.”

She was still. Some of the fight lifted from her shoulders, her posture easing. “I’m sorry…I can understand why you hate him.”

“Hate is putting it mildly. So, if you ever feel like no one else understands what Graves is capable of, just know I’m not among them.

I know he wronged you, Mira, but…maybe it’s best if I don’t know the details.

I’ve reason enough to kill him, I don’t need to be tempted to make it slow and painful as well. ”

She considered a moment. The street was quiet, the Garrison properly silent and empty at such an hour.

They were a few houses away from Miranda’s home, tucked into the darkness of some noble’s flourishing front garden.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet, almost hard to hear over the slight breeze stirring the trees.

“I was at a ball. My mother had been pushing me on bachelors all evening and I was done with the whole thing. When I went outside for some peace and fresh air, Graves followed me. At first, he was nice, charming. He commented on the night and the party. All polite enough. Except, we were outside alone and from the moment he showed up I felt uneasy.” She hugged her arms around herself, never once looking into his eyes.

Devin let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Devin spoke with barely restrained anger. “Tell me he didn’t…”

Miranda didn’t meet his eyes. “Well, he didn’t succeed. Not…” Tears welled in her eyes, then slipped down her cheeks as her vision grew distant. Her mind taking her somewhere else, somewhere worse.

“I refused his offers, and that angered him. He told me that a woman of my age, nearing spinsterhood, should have been glad to accept such an offer. He wasn’t charming anymore, no more pretense.

And he wasn’t alone. I was held by two of his followers while—” Miranda’s voice wavered and he wanted to tell her to stop, beg her not to finish her story, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“I’m trained to handle every enemy, even those physically stronger.

I knew exactly how to break their hold and free myself, but—in the moment I was so…

confused. So scared and shocked that I forgot everything.

I couldn’t react as he tore at my…” She covered her chest with her arms. “My dress, and started to bunch up the skirts. His hands on my skin is the single most repulsing moment in my life. He said that if I were compromised, then I wouldn’t be able to refuse him. ”

Her tears were a cascade, streams down her cheeks and dripping onto her dress. Each new detail left him more hollow, more…devastated.

She swiped at her cheeks and caught her breath. “Then my senses returned. I kneed him in the stomach and broke the hold on my arms. Then I ran.” Brave Miranda raised her chin, tougher than the memories, even as her lips trembled.

Devin’s fists vibrated with restrained anger.

He had suspected that Graves had wronged her, noted how she had squirmed under his gaze, but he chose to ignore the implications out of self-preservation.

He didn’t need more reasons to hate the man.

His animosity could not possibly grow any stronger.

And yet, here he stood. Ready to shred the man into pieces, so that he didn’t die right away but felt every tear and rip of himself the way he tore and ripped at those around him.

For the first time since revenge had blackened his heart beyond repair, he considered that death might be too merciful an end for Graves.

“Damn it, Miranda—” Devin paused, his tirade halted in his throat. Her eyes were open, exposed. Begging for something that he feared he wasn’t capable of giving. Hearing the words from her own lips had him struggling to keep his hands to himself.

Not to touch her, but to offer comfort in a way he did not understand.

The only comfort he’d ever received was from his mother, whose touch rescinded further and further from him the more sadness weighed her down.

He had been hugged as a small boy, but over time her affection had receded as the shadows in her eyes grew, until her touch wasn’t even a memory.

Devin’s hand found Miranda’s arm, fingers gently curling around her wrist, waiting for her to pull away.

She didn’t.

He looked into her green eyes, searching for…

what? He didn’t know. His heart maybe? He was unraveling in front of her again.

If he wasn’t careful a wall might budge, weakness might show, he needed to regain his composure.

Instead, he stepped close enough to smell lilacs, overpowering the fresh blooms all around them, and his hand shifted from her arm to her back.

The steel in her spine softened, her guard dropping. He could only breathe and feel her breath against his chest. It occurred to him that he was taking comfort as much as he was trying to give it, and the idea threatened to unnerve him.

He tore his eyes from her face, from her parted lips and evocative eyes, so that he stared into a well-sculpted hedge instead.

There were thorns among the dark green foliage, the leaf edges lined in severe points that would jab a finger if one attempted to touch it.

A plant that was well guarded from predators.

Like Miranda. Only, he was the predator snaking his way through the thorns.

He stopped short of letting his lips trail over the soft, loose tendrils of her hair.

“We should move, it’s not smart to linger,” he whispered.

“Yes…we should,” she replied.

He held her now, their bodies couldn’t be closer, and yet something else burned between them. Something—inexplicably—worse than passion.

He eased back, gently ripping his senses free of her.

There was no part of him that wasn’t vulnerable to her, that wasn’t ready to lay down and submit.

To end this game and just let the consequences be damned.

Devin did not think he could hold himself back any longer.

The last of his will had snapped and Miranda had no idea the danger she was in now, how very thoroughly he could ruin her should she say the word.

And he would not hesitate. All he needed was the barest hint that she wanted him again and he would lock her away until he could satisfy her every carnal desire.

For now, he continued to breathe, the scent of her making him drunk all over again. “Where were you planning to go, Mira?”

“The address on the paper.”

“Well, if you’re amenable, I may have a safer option. An old comrade of mine is currently captain of the Watchmen, one of the few to make it out with me.”

She was quiet. He expected her to argue with him. Instead, she nodded.

“We should go, then, Mira,” he said, drawing his knuckles along her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. The hand on her back clenched, pulling her tighter, closer. “Say the word, Mira, and we’ll go.”

“Yes…go.”

He grinned.

She was going to be his.

And if he was going to hell, he was going to make sure he thoroughly deserved it.