Page 40

SERAPHINA

T he hand on my back shoves me roughly into a dark chamber and the door cracks shut behind me, heaving so much dust, I dissolve into a coughing fit.

The only light in the chamber is from the moonlight and I can barely make out the outlines of?—

A firm hand grips my waist harshly and I yelp as my chest hits what feels like a brick wall. A hot breath fans my ear and fingers reach for my hair, tugging on the band that places it in a ponytail, freeing it. "I'm hallucinating, aren't I?"

Goosebumps break out on my skin. He sounds different. So different. "You're not."

Breathy, sensual laughter scatters my hair and I feel it drop a heartbeat between my legs.

"Seraphina would never come for me," he murmurs, his words a little slurred, almost as if he's drunk.

But he doesn't smell like liquor. Just something strong, woodsy and earthy.

Like wolfsbane. "And she sure as fuck wouldn't smell like another man. "

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Maybe I should've stayed home like you wanted me to and left you to die here," I growl angrily.

He buries his nose in my hair and the sound that leaves him is an awful, angry bay. "You reek." Another slur, and I know he doesn't mean I smell. After having Ronan nearly maul me, I am covered in his scent.

"You too. They don't let you shower in here, do they?" It's a lie. He smells like the cheap soap bar usually left for the prisoners and his breath is fresh. There's a hint of blood, too.

Soren huffs a hot breath that sounds a little like laughter. "She would definitely sound like that." He groans, running his hands up my waist and I gasp when his hands cover my breasts, his hard length digging into my lower back. "You feel...so good... so real. "

He must be hallucinating from the wolfsbane. Just how much has he been pumped with to make him like this?

"Let me see you, Soren."

He stiffens, hot hands falling from my chest. I whirl, facing him, and a whimper crawls up my throat.

The scar above his eye is ripped open again.

His lips are split in three different places.

A long gash runs down his chest, clean, but not completely healed.

His knuckles are busted...knuckles...I sob in relief.

"Your hands..." I grasp both his hands, double-checking in case I'm seeing wrong.

"Your hands...your fingers, they're fine. "

He shakes off my grip. "I told you to stay home!"

"He sent me your fingers in a box!" I can't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks or keep my voice from breaking in relief, in anger, and it's the first time I let myself admit the words I say to him.

"I was worried! You've been gone for a week!

I couldn't feel you! I didn't know if you were alive!

And then, I received a box drenched in your blood and it felt like I would die if I didn't see you!

Do you have any idea what it felt like waking up without you there?

Knowing you compelled me to not come after you?

" My breaths turn ragged. "I didn't know what else to do! "

Soren looks like he's been struck stupid.

He stutters his words. "I-I...I didn't—I'm sorry.

" His bloodied hands run through his hair and he crosses the darkness that separates us, grabbing me and crushing me into his chest. "I'm sorry.

" He kisses the top of my head, hands digging into my skin as he holds me with the desperation of a man starving. "I missed you."

Butterflies bloom in my stomach, distracting enough to halt my angry sobbing. I pull away to tell him that I handed the seal over to Eric, but his mouth meets mine, hot and insistent.

He pushes.

I pull .

He cages me into the wall, his lips and tongue fucking my mouth aggressively.

My fingers fumble for his naked chest, needing to feel more of his skin, to reassure myself that he isn't hurt—he hisses when my nails scrape against his injury.

I murmur a half-assed apology against his mouth, tugging at his belt as his teeth clamp down on my neck.

I moan.

We move fast and hard, desperate. I do not know what it is that drives my need. All I know is his hands branding my skin, his hips bucking against mine, his teeth sinking into my neck, my shoulder. Tears prickle against my eyes and I don't know why. I don't really care.

My hands sink into his pants, palming his cock and he thrusts his hips into my hand, growling insufferably. He grabs my ass, fumbling for the zipper of my pants until I grab at it, breaking the stopper and shoving it down below my knees.

I'm panting when he hoists me up against the wall, my legs dangling from either side of his waist as I try to spread them as far as they can go but Soren snarls in frustration as we try to get the angles right. "Fucking pants."

He maneuvers, somehow keeping me in place on the wall while shoving my pants to my ankle and when my legs are eagle spread for him, as far as they can go, he tumbles into me, grabbing the base of his cock.

He guides it to my entrance and murmurs something unintelligible as he rubs the head from my clit to my slit, wetting himself with my arousal.

" Please ," I cry, biting his shoulder, and the word echoes back to me in the chamber.

He tears into me with a hard thrust that has my vision temporarily blacking out. "Soren," I say, clenching around him so hard, he whimpers, a clawed hand raking against the stone by my head.

His next thrust runs my spine into the wall and I give up on trying to hold onto him. I tighten my thighs around his torso and push back against every marvelous inch, and I gasp as he grows inside, stretching me out pleasantly.

Soren bites my shoulder and rams into me in an obscenely wondrous angle that makes the veins of his cock brush against my clit.

The sounds my insides make as it takes all of him echoes, sending me into an overdrive.

He bites the area above my left breast through the fabric of my top. It hurts so good. He catches my nipples through the fabric and clamps down on it as he slams home.

My hips begin to undulate. My eyes cross. My lips part, urgent cries flying past them. "Harder," I growl, not quite recognizing my own voice.

He bites my shoulders next. Before moving back to my neck and covering every corner of it with bite marks that will bruise tomorrow and become harder to hide. It's almost maniacal and I shatter to the thought of being covered in his marks. Being completely his.

Soren takes longer and I relish in every bang of my head against the brick wall, the possessiveness in his grip, the words he breathes onto my skin.

You're mine, Sera.

Fuck, you're so godsdamned beautiful.

You smell divine.

I need you.

Gods, nothing could ever feel the way you do, Seraphina. You kill me so effortlessly.

He spills inside me with a thrust that sends me reeling. He breathes hard, dropping his forehead down to mine, rubbing his thumb against my temple. We stay like that for a little while and my eyes shut, an odd feeling of contentment washing over me.

But it is fleeting, and perhaps, this is why Ronan sent me here. To properly understand that this could be gone any second.

Accidents do happen all the time.

My gaze drops to the wound on his chest and I look around the small cell.

There are no poultices, no salves, and the wolfsbane will keep him from healing.

His eyes are glassy enough that I wonder if he'll even remember this after I'm gone.

He looks different from the always put-together man I've come to know.

He seems so...vulnerable, exhausted and this is all my fault.

He didn't have to come. He didn't have to walk in here for my sake, but he did it anyway. And that is more than anyone has ever done for me—jumping right into the flames for me.

I bring my hands to his cheeks, dragging his head up. His eyes droop heavily and it takes three blinks for them to focus on me. "We will fight this. Together."

Someone's in my room.

Touching my ankle.

I jerk awake, heart flying to my throat at the sight of the tall, imposing figure at the foot of my bed. But the sunlight streaming in through the windows falls on the side of Ronan's face and I stifle a scream at the inhuman glow in his eyes that rake along my body.

After my visit to the dungeon last night, I was forced into this bedroom and locked in.

After slamming into the door over and over in an attempt to break it down to no avail, I had about enough strength to clean up in the shower and put on the oversized pajamas I found after raking through the closet filled with vile, filthy things for me to put on for Ronan's pleasure.

Somewhere between tossing, turning and nightmares, the trousers have come up my waist and the top three buttons of the shirt have come undone, exposing my cleavage...and more.

I jerk my ankle back from Ronan's grip, but he doesn't let up. "I'd forgotten how stunning you looked with bed hair."

"Let me go!" I yell, and this time, he does, only to walk around the bed and sit on the mattress beside me.

I scramble sideways when his fingers land on my upper thigh and I fall off the side of the bed in a heap.

Ronan chuckles, brown eyes brightening with mirth. "I see that you have planned to make me work for every second of your time. I suppose this will be entertaining." He drums his fingers along his tailored pant, his black signet ring flashing. "Have you thought about my offer?"

Yes. All night long. It was all I could dream of. In fact, he featured in every single one of my nightmares. "You speak like I have a choice," I seethe, planting myself against the wall.

Ronan tilts his head, contemplating. "The moment you stop treating me like I am the enemy here, you'll understand that I only want what's best for us. You must not remember, but I asked you to marry me once. You refused me. Forced me into the arms of a woman I didn't love."

Did he just...