Page 51

Rhodes---Burning Embers

In two days, Amelia meets with Medina. We’ve decided to have dinner in a bit with Parker and Duncan to run through the plan one final time. Standing at her dresser, I pick up the signet ring, rolling it in my palm.

I hate the power this holds over my girl, the way she refuses to wear it because of the pain it has brought upon her life—her body. The gold is heavy and cool, the signet is reflective of her lineage. The three leafed acorn has become reminiscent of pain, of loss, and of duty that wasn’t hers to bear. I know that if Amelia had her way, this ring would never be a part of her legacy. I know that her—our—future children, should we have them, would never know of it, that they would not be subject to the burden. A door clicks to my right and I hear her walk in, a sigh falling from her lips in frustration.

“That ring should be locked away. Nothing good has come from it.”

She’s in my shirt, the linen skimming her voluptuous body before stopping at the tops of her thick thighs, giving a tease of that ass I adore. There are three buttons undone, a peekaboo of lace, and the dip of her clavicle begs for my attention. I love the way she always cuffs the sleeves, lending a simple button-down shirt so much elegance. She scoffs, turning from me. I watch her walk toward the bathroom, her hands shaking out the curls from the top knot they’ve been contained in.

“Brand me.” Her footfalls halt and I can see the tension starting to build in her shoulders. Her hands fall to her side, flexing as she tries to control her reaction. “Replace every negative about this damn ring with me. With us.”

“Rhodes.” My name drops from her mouth, the echo rippling against the stillness.

Palming the ring, I stalk toward her. I need her to walk into tomorrow’s meeting without a single demon hanging over her shoulder. This is something I have mulled for a while.

I bring my face to the back of her neck, skimming my nose up to the base of her skull. I will always love the visceral reaction her body has to mine. The minute hairs stand, goosebumps pebbling her nape as I place the gentlest kiss where her shoulder slopes. I know what I’m asking. I know what this single act will mean.

“Brand me, Amelia Conte.”

Her breath hitches and I wrap one hand around her bicep, the other placing the ring in front of her. I know those storm cloud eyes are focused on the piece of metal as my hand runs down her arm, reaching for her hand and placing it there. Her body begins to tremble.

“I want your brand on my body. You and I are in this together. Where you fight, I fight. Where you lead, I follow. I am yours and I will call your name until you come back home.”

I watch as Amelia sets her jaw, my breath caught in my chest as I wait for her to make her choice. She turns in my arms and I see the war she’s fighting. “Mark me as yours. This will be the final mark inflicted upon flesh by this signet.”

She whimpers.

Softening my tone, I duck to bring myself level to her face. “I know, kochanie . I know.”

I see the tears welling in her eyes as the gravity of my request sets in. I am asking her to unleash a Pandora’s Box upon the person she loves most, and in doing so, we will be ripping open wounds that Amelia would rather fade into nothing. The tremors start crawling up her body until Amelia begins to hyperventilate. I cross her arms in front of her, cupping her elbows. I lock eyes with her and we breathe together until her chest slows.

“I know what I am asking. I know what this will mean.” I move my hands to hold her face in their grip. “I also know that the only way for you to put this demon to rest is this.” Brushing the tears now falling down her cheeks, I feel my heart break for the woman breaking in my hold. “So brand me. Let me carry this pain with you.”

“I-I-” her voice shakes, and Amelia sniffles. “I’ve never d-done th-this, R-r-rhodes.”

My fingers brush her cheeks, the skin there freckled from the sun. “I haven’t either, but we will do it together, okay.” Amelia rolls her lips, her face full of fear…of trust.

“The first and only.” Her voice is shaky and those grey eyes fall shut.

“Just me.”

I pull Amelia into my chest, tucking her head under my chin and cradling the back of her head. She rubs her nose against my bare chest before placing a soft kiss on the tattoo I had placed over my heart. It was only fitting that I got the symbol for Veles there. “Brand me there.”

She rears back, confusion in her eyes. I tighten my hold along her back, keeping her here with me. I cannot have her shrink into herself. She cannot retreat to the shadows.

“Burn me where I burn for you, Amelia Conte.”

“Are you sure?”

I take a deep breath. I have never been more sure of anything, but Amelia needs action behind my words. Releasing her, I drag my hand down her arm before lacing her fingers with mine. I tug her down the hall, and into the kitchen, stopping in front of the gas stove. I drop her hand, noting the way she cups her elbows after placing the ring on the counter beside us. Turning the front burner on, I reach around her, opening the drawer where I know she keeps her tongs. Snagging a pair, I grip the signet ring with them, taking a moment to ensure that the face will be able to imprint itself on my flesh.

Thankfully, the tongs have a heat protectant on the handles, making this easier on both of us. I hold them out for Amelia to take. A shake of her head turns into a flurry of hair around her face. Amelia tucks her hands under her armpits, the refusal coating her entire body. I can hear the sobs bubbling up, the way she is struggling to contain them is like a dagger to my chest. Giving a small nod, I place the offending items beside her.

I grab an alcohol swab from the first aid kit beneath the sink. I sit on the kitchen island, my legs dangling off the edge, and I look at her. She is staring at the ceiling, eyes locked on an invisible speck. Her face is wet from her tears, and from this angle, Amelia Conte is a conniption of feelings. She doesn’t want to brand me. She also knows that she has to. This is her final demon, the last stronghold of those that haunt her. It is the ultimate test of her limits, and I want her to shatter them to pieces. I cannot convince her to be stronger than she believes she is. Amelia has to trust herself, wholly on her own.

“Eyes, kochanie .”

If ever there was a moment I thought Amelia would refuse, it is this one. Her foot taps on the tiled floor, and those lush lips work against themselves as she wrestles with the war inside her head. I open the alcohol swab, running it along my chest, taking time to scrub where she will place the ring thoroughly. Tossing the used square next to me, I lay back, resting my head in my hands, my chest on full display. I turn my gaze to her, never once abandoning the woman before me.

I swore I’d follow her into the dark, and into the dark I will go.

“Put the demons in their graves.”

She blinks before snapping her gaze at me. There you are. A hard swallow moves down her throat as her arms unwind themselves from her curves. Atta girl. She stares at the tongs for what feels like several minutes before picking them up. Her hands are shaking, and I know that if she had a blade instead, those delicate hands would be as steady as a surgeon’s. The demon has come from its shadows, demanding its due.

“Pick the ring up, baby. Hold it over that flame.” Amelia bites her lip before doing what I’ve asked. She whimpers, fear and pain falling from her mouth. I move my arms down, flattening my palms to the surface of the kitchen island, bracing myself for what I’m about to endure. It will be nothing compared to her suffering.

“Rhodes.” It is quiet, the way she calls my name. “I need you to keep talking, to walk me through it. I won’t be able to do it if you don’t.” Amelia says, looking at the ring. “I will never understand how he did this. How he could be so cruel to inflict so much pain.” She flicks her eyes to mine, a question clear in them.

“What is it, pretty girl?” I ask, watching as she hovers the ring barely above the flames coming through the stove burner.

“Does this make me a monster?” The jaggedness of her question calls to the remnants of my soul. I need her to do this, I need to protect her, I need her to be strong one more time. And in that single question lies the root of her doubt and of her demons. Amelia has kept these pieces of herself separate for so long and now, with a single act, she will fuse them into a complete picture of who she is.

Amelia Conte is a complex goddess, but a monster she is not.

“Because I would understand, you know. The Fox slices those who cross her. I’m about to inflict pain upon the other half of my heart. I am no better than them by doing this.” Her voice is soft now, barely more than a whisper.

Her hand doesn’t move from the flame as she murmurs to herself, her gaze lost in the glow. I don’t know what she is saying, but as the ring starts to glow, her spine straightens. Those shoulders pull back, and despite the tapping of her black nails against her thigh, I know that she will not fail in this.

I start regulating my breath, attempting to find some sort of composure, any manner of centering myself. Amelia spins, her hair wild around her as she walks toward me. There are tear streaks running down her face, and she’s worried her top lip to shreds. The ring now glows brightly against the silver tongs, red-hot and looming.

Man up, Rhodes. She had to endure this six times over. You can handle it being done once. I lick my lips, shuffling slightly on the counter. I can feel my stomach in my throat at the thought of the impending pain.

“You are not a monster, kochanie .” Her steps stutter at my words. Ah, she didn’t think I’d heard her whispering to herself. “This does not make you anything less than what we both know you are. You are smart, and kind, and brave, and safe, and loved. You will never be a monster.”

Her shoulders sag and as her hips reach the island’s edge, I repeat myself. “Brand me where I burn for you. Take back your power.”

“I love you, Rhodes Alexander.” There is a quiet force behind her words. Uttering them isn’t something that comes naturally to the woman I love. Speaking this love she has for me into existence is what will get us through the next moment. Standing on her tiptoes, Amelia leans over my head, her breasts grazing my face. It is the easiest way for her to reach the spot she needs to. I give a gentle kiss to the fullness there before hardening my features and tightening my body.

The beat of a breath passes before the world starts to burn, hotter than the dying embers from a raging inferno.