Page 30

Chapter

Thirty

I snatch my fingers away from his skin as if he’s burned me.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” The words rush out of me in a single breath.

“Are you alright?” Thorne sits up. His gloved hand reaches for me on instinct, before he pulls it back, cursing under his breath.

I stare at my own hands, waiting for them to catch fire or something equally horrifying. My brain is moving far too quickly to form rational thoughts. Am I going to die? The memory of Lord Burgess screaming in agony sends a fresh bolt of terror through my veins.

“How bad was it? I’m sorry, Ivy.” His fingers run helplessly through his hair, pulling at the inky black strands as his pleading eyes beg me to be alright. “Fuck! I’m so sorry.”

My heart pounds against my chest, the force of it jolting me into action. I need to calm down. I take a deep breath through my nose and hold it for five seconds before releasing it through my mouth. I do this several more times, my eyes glued to the slash on Thorne’s neck. The blood has slowed, telling me it’s already clotting. As my pulse steadies, the realization that he was never truly in danger sinks in. The wound, while terrifying, wasn’t enough to kill a God. Somehow, that knowledge had been overshadowed by the sight of his blood staining my hands.

Relief melts my bones, leaving me weightless. Thorne will survive.

But will I?

I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting to be struck by the terrible pain of Death’s touch. Helplessness paralyzes me as the seconds pass, spreading into minutes. And yet… nothing happens.

“Ivy!” Thorne begs, his tone sparking a suspicion that he’s been speaking to me for quite some time. “Please look at me, Angel.”

Doing as he asked, I peek one eye open. Evidence of the night’s horrors is smeared across Thorne’s cheek, the blood stark against the unusual paleness of his skin. His fists are clenched at his sides, his body rigid with restraint. When my gaze connects with his, the terror I find there is staggering. There’s no evidence of the smug confidence he always carries. Instead, it’s been replaced with fear.

For me , I realize. He’s terrified for me. Warmth flutters in my chest, but I push it aside, choosing to focus on the other emotion hiding in his eyes. One I recognize quite well.

Self-disgust.

Each time he ordered me not to touch him replays in my mind. This has to be a nightmare come true for him. I want to assure him I’m going to be alright, but I have no idea if that’s a lie. Is it possible that the attack is delayed? When he touched Lord Burgess, it happened immediately. But when I placed my hands on him, I felt nothing.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I was a mess of emotions. Urgency, desperation, terror…. I felt all of those. But physical pain? That never struck me.

“I… I’m fine?” The statement comes out as a question. How is it possible that touching him didn’t hurt me at all? He’s the God of Death. His touch is lethal.

“What?” he breathes.

“I’m not hurt.”

He shakes his head as his brows pinch together. “That’s not possible. You touched my skin, Ivy. I felt you.”

“I know.” I rack my brain, searching for answers and coming up blank. “I don’t understand how, but you didn’t hurt me.”

His mouth opens only to quickly close again. Those blue eyes shift wildly, searching for answers that aren’t there. His broad shoulders curl inward, as if he’s trying to protect himself from something.

“You’re in shock.” He shakes his head again. “It hasn’t hit you yet.”

My brows pinch. “Has it ever been delayed this way?”

His silence speaks for itself.

“Exactly.” I lean forward and Thorne jumps back, immediately rising and putting more space between us. He stumbles, nearly tripping over one of the bodies littering the ground before righting himself. I follow him, unwilling to let him pull away now. I’m surprisingly steady on my feet after everything that’s happened tonight.

He holds his gloved hands in front of him as he continues to retreat. “Angel, it’s not safe?—”

“You didn’t hurt me!” I insist. “You touched me, and nothing happened.”

His eyes go round with fear as his back hits the wall, giving me the opportunity to close the space between us.

“Give me your hand.”

“You don’t know what will happen,” he pleads.

I take a deep breath, ignoring the truth in his words. “Do you trust me?”

His brow furrows as he tilts his head. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

His beautiful lips twist into a grimace as his gaze drops. “I don’t trust myself. If I hurt you… I think it would destroy me.”

My foolish heart stutters at the admission. I can’t think about what it means. I can’t think about anything except this moment right now.

I hold out my hand, willing it not to tremble as I wait for him to give me his. “Then let it destroy us both.”

His eyes connect with mine instantly. I can see the hesitation there, but underneath it, I also spot a faint spark of hope. He wants this too—he’s simply afraid to let himself believe it will work.

Slowly, he lifts his gloved hand and places it in mine, palm facing the sky. The black leather is soft against my skin, but it’s not what I want. Pinching the material between my fingers, I begin pulling it off. I move slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wishes. I don’t think he breathes the entire time. Maybe I don’t either.

Once the glove is gone, his bare hand is cradled in mine, skin to skin. He’s warmer than I expected. For some reason, I always believed Death would be cold. Seconds tick by as we wait to see if this will be a mistake or a triumph.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers.

I shake my head, my heart pounding against my chest. Can he hear it?

His jaw is clenched so tight I’m sure it’s going to crack. Tension radiates through him as he speaks again. “I need to you to say it out loud, Angel. Am I causing you pain?”

For the first time in my life, there isn’t an ounce of ugliness in the truth.

“No,” I promise him.

Guided by instincts I don’t bother to question, I lift his hand and bring it to my face. A guttural noise rises in his throat, but I ignore it. Shivers coast over every inch of my skin as I nuzzle my cheek against him, marveling at how soft he is.

“Don’t,” I beg as Thorne tries to pull away.

Watching him closely, I keep my eyes locked on his as I slowly release my grip and force my arms to my sides. I need him to choose this too. Completely frozen, he holds himself rigid as if he believes one wrong move will ruin everything.

“Touch me,” I whisper.

His mouth falls open in a gasp. He hesitates only a moment longer before his fingers begin their soft exploration over my cheekbone, leaving tingles in their wake. He wipes away something wet, and it’s only then that I realize I’m crying. His progress halts as questions fill his eyes.

“Continue.” I nod. “Please. It’s perfect.”

Spurred by my assurances, his touch becomes more confident. His fingers move to my mouth, tracing the bow shaped lines of my upper lip. His eyes are focused, as if he’s utterly entranced in his task. Tingles erupt over my skin, and I can’t stop the shudder that racks through me.

His gaze finds mine again, full of fire now. An instant later, he’s reversed our positions, his body now pushing mine into the wall. What started as pure becomes wicked, turning from want to need as desire burns in my core. Restless and desperate, I pull him closer, reveling in the feeling of his hard length pressing against my stomach. He brings our foreheads together, and his eyes blaze into mine with a swirling mix of hunger and awe. His hand finds my leg, hooking it around his waist to bring us closer together.

As he presses featherlight kisses over my cheeks, something inside of me cracks into a thousand pieces. The move is so tender that I want to cry again. His lips continue moving over my skin until suddenly they hover right above my own. We stay that way for several seconds, nose to nose, as we breathe each other’s air.

“I don’t want to let go,” he admits, his voice rough. “What if this was just a dream?”

“Do you dream of me often?”

“Every night.”

The earnestness in his eyes gives me the strength to speak my next words.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, causing him to go completely still against me. “You don’t have to stop.”

Without hesitating a second longer, he closes the gap between our mouths. His lips move against mine gently as he gives me the sweetest kiss I’ve ever known, but I’m so desperate for him that I need more. I bite his bottom lip before running my tongue against the seam, begging for entrance.

His response is immediate. His tongue is in my mouth, tasting all of me as he pushes us harder against the wall. The kiss turns hungry and desperate. The ache deep in my stomach increases as my other leg comes up around his hip and he grinds into me.

His hands are everywhere, cupping my ass, squeezing my breasts, feeling all of me. I do the same, greedily trying to touch every inch of his body. My fingers brush against his feathered wings, finding them softer than anything I could’ve imagined. I moan and squirm, wanting more. I know we should stop, but I can’t. His skin on mine is an addiction I’ve only just begun to indulge.

My hands move to the laces on the front of my tunic, needing to remove every barrier between us. He pulls at the material until it comes down, exposing my heavy breasts to the night air. His eyes are hungry and focused as he stares at me, utterly enraptured. One hand glides up my stomach and cups my flesh in his palm. Taking my nipple between his fingers, he squeezes it gently before increasing the pressure. I inhale on a breathy gasp as a bolt of pleasure shoots through me. A satisfied smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he immediately repeats the action, eliciting the same response.

His gaze finds mine, a thousand emotions swirling there. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

With the way he’s looking at me and touching me so reverently, I believe him. His lips trail over my shoulder, sucking on my skin as I grind against him. One of his hands moves to cup my core, and I groan into his neck. I need him.

“Please, Ivy,” he begs. “Please let me taste you.”

“Yes,” I gasp, unable to deny him anything right now.

Setting my feet back on the ground, he quickly kneels before me. His fingers immediately get to work undoing the laces of my breeches, and he pulls them down, exposing me. There’s no time for embarrassment because his mouth is on me in an instant. His tongue pushes through my slit, gliding from my entrance up to that pulsing bundle of nerves.

A startled moan falls from my lips as sparks shoot through me.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, licking his lip to savor the flavor before returning to his task.

His tongue teases my clit mercilessly, moving against me with unrestrained enthusiasm. I had believed he hadn’t done this before, but I must have been wrong because the skill he’s displaying is astounding. Our gazes connect again as he sucks me into his mouth.

“Thorne,” I gasp as I writhe against his face.

His eyes light up with smug satisfaction as my movements become more sporadic. Liquid heat builds in my core as I cry his name again and again. He slips two fingers inside me, pushing them in and out at a tantalizing pace.

“Please,” I beg.

His fingers curl, pressing against that sensitive spot that makes my vision go black as everything explodes.

“Thorne,” I shout, unable to stop myself as I combust in his arms.

Before I know it, he’s rising to his feet and bringing his lips to mine in a feverish kiss. His fingers still pump in and out, letting me ride out the last waves of pleasure. I moan at the sinful taste of myself on his tongue.

“Please, Ivy,” he whispers against my skin as the high finally ends. “Let me do it again.”

“Hmm?” I murmur as my hazy mind tries to follow his request.

“You said I didn’t have to stop,” he says, his tone completely serious. “Does that still apply?”

I’m about to say yes when footsteps echo from the other end of the alley. Griffen stands there, his features twisted into absolute shock as he stares at the two of us, pressed together. Heat flames my face as I remember how much of my body is currently exposed. My hands drop to my laces, my fingers shaking as I quickly tie them. Immediately, Thorne’s wings expand to shield what’s left of my dignity, blocking off my view of his friend.

“I—” the confused fae begins.

“Leave,” Thorne cuts him off, his voice low and menacing.

“How are you able?—”

“Now!”

Footsteps retreat in the opposite direction, telling me Griffen is gone, but his interruption has created room for sober thoughts to overtake my lustful haze. Nausea rises in my gut as I spot one of the bodies lying dead on the cobblestone. Oh gods. This was wrong. We shouldn’t have done this here. We shouldn’t have done this at all.

Questions swirl through my mind, one after another. What if Thorne doesn’t truly want me the way I want him? What if he was only interested in me tonight because he realized he could touch me without harm? I wouldn’t blame him for that. It’d be normal to seek that opportunity with whoever you could. But the thought makes me strangely ill.

“Stop that.” Thorne’s voice pulls me from my spiral.

Glancing up, I find him watching me with narrowed eyes. “What?”

He moves to stand directly in front of me. “Whatever you’re thinking.”

I raise my chin. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“I know it’s not good.”

Despite his orders, the poisonous thoughts spread. Tonight was reckless. We’re lucky it was Griffen who interrupted us and not someone else. Anyone could have seen us out here in the open. And with news of my engagement sweeping the city… I don’t even want to imagine what Baylor would do if he found out. Della was right. I am being reckless.

If we were discovered, there would be no more chances at freedom, no more glimpses of a better life. I risked all of that for what? A few minutes of pleasure with someone who’s done nothing but lie to me.

That’s not true , an annoying voice in the back of my mind reminds me. He cares for you.

I shake my head. Whatever this was, I need to sort through my emotions away from Thorne. Because the harsh reality is that even if he does care for me, he’ll still be gone as soon as he gets what he came here for. And I’ll be left behind, trapped with Baylor for eternity. The thought leaves me cold and unsteady.

“This was a mistake,” I whisper as I move past him.

His bare hand grabs my wrist, pulling me to a stop as the feeling of his skin against mine sends another wave of shivers through me. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I insist, refusing to look at him. “If word got back to Baylor?—”

He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I’d protect you. You don’t need to?—”

“You can’t protect me,” I cut him off as I rip myself out of his hold. “As long as this collar sits around my neck, no one can.”

His eyes blaze with determination, but we both know I’m right.

“I need to get back.”

He nods, slowly moving backward and putting space between us. His palms close into fists, as if he’s having to physically restrain himself from touching me. If I’m honest, I’m fighting those same instincts. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to reach out and kiss him again.

One side of Thorne’s mouth kicks up at my hesitation. “I thought you needed to go?”

“I do.” My brows pinch together as I realize I’ve been standing here staring at him for longer than I intended.

“Then you should probably do that.” He prowls closer, a predator scenting blood in the water. “Unless you changed your mind?”

I shake my head, my thoughts turning fuzzy again.

“Are you sure?” he whispers as he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’d be happy to prove to you why leaving is the wrong choice.”

I lick my lips as my mouth turns dry. Knowing I need to escape before I sink back into his addictive touch, I call on the last of my strength to wrap myself in an illusion. The sensation of needles pricking my skin helps to steady me.

Thorne doesn’t move as I make my way to the edge of the alley, his eyes on me the entire time. He still hasn’t revealed how he always knows exactly where I am, even when he can’t see me. Frustration builds, making it easier to leave.

“Goodnight, Reaper,” I grumble.

His warm laugh echoes through the dark, and when he speaks, I can hear the smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Angel.”

Shaking my head, I rush out of the alley and make my way back to the Palace. The sound of wings follows me the whole way home.