Page 45 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Kiera

I stare into the green depths of Blade's eyes, a pain that mirrors my own shadowing them. The weight of our past hanging heavy between us. A chasm of lies, betrayal, and misunderstanding that tore us apart. But now, face to face, all I see is the man I once loved. A man as lost as I am.

Time to move on.

"I forgive you, Blade." The words tumble out before I've thought them through, raw and jagged. "We were both manipulated. It's time to let go of the past."

His eyes widen, and for a heartbeat, he looks like the boy who stole my heart all those years ago. The boy who promised to protect me, to love me forever. But the memory of that boy dissolves, replaced by the very real man who's still protecting me—however fucked up his methods have become.

"Kiera," he whispers, his voice scraped raw with emotion. "It's always been you. I never stopped loving you. I thought I was doing what was best for us, for our future."

I reach up, my fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm, rough with stubble, and electricity shoots up my arm. I'm not the scared little girl he knew anymore.

"I know." My voice comes out softer than intended. There's so much more to talk about, so many wounds to heal. "We can't change the past. We can only move forward. Together."

Blade's eyes search mine, and I see hope flicker in those green depths I've missed so desperately.

"Together," he repeats, his voice filled with deadly determination. "I won't let anyone come between us again. I won't let anyone hurt you."

He pushes my disheveled hair from my eyes, as if he can't stand even thin strands breaking the connection between us.

"So, what do we do now? How do we move forward?"

Blade's expression hardens, determination burning within him. "We find out who did this to us," he says, warmth in his gaze contrasting with the cold, lethal resolution in his voice.

He'll move heaven and earth to exact revenge. How similar we still are, even after all this time apart.

"Blade." My whisper barely escapes, the painful words lingering on the edge. The past refuses to stay buried. "Who told you I was cheating? I've never even looked at another man." His eyes darken, pain lurking beneath the surface. "Not in eight years. There was only you, until?—"

"The video was convincing." He cuts me off sharply. "I believe you now," his voice rough, strained. "But back then, the hurt, the anger—it consumed everything. Leaving felt like the only way forward. Like securing a future for us would make you stay."

My fingers brush against his cheek, the touch both familiar and distant.

"Blade." His name falls softly, wrapped in quiet longing. "I never needed a better life. Just you. Us."

"Pain and anger blinded me," he admits. "Every decision, every sacrifice—it was for us. I believed if I could provide more, give you more, maybe you wouldn't leave."

A deep breath fights through the weight of eight years lost. "I was never going anywhere. I chose you. Would have chosen you every single day for the rest of my life."

The words burn, thick with bitterness. A confession far too late. A choice stolen before it could be made.

"How could you just leave without a word?"

His shoulders slump as the weight of what we've lost—what was stolen from us—finally lands.

"Who?" I muse aloud. "Who wanted us torn apart so badly they'd go to such lengths?"

The question hangs between us, heavy with implications. His brow furrows, but something darker flickers across his features—recognition, maybe even certainty.

"Zephyr," he says, the name dropping like a stone into still water. His voice turns lethal, each syllable dripping with venom. "It has to be. He's the only one who had access, who I trusted enough to believe without question. That bastard played us both."

My blood runs cold at the name. Zephyr. The pieces start clicking into place. His access, his positioning, the way he always seemed to know just what to say. "That manipulative son of a bitch."

"We need to be careful," I say, my mind racing with possibilities. "He has resources, connections. If he could fool both of us for eight years, he's not going to go down easily."

Blade's jaw tightens, but there's a predatory gleam in his eyes now. "We'll be smarter this time," he promises, his fingers brushing against my cheek. "And now we know exactly who we're hunting."

I can't help but smile despite the gravity of our situation. This is what I've missed—us, working as a team. Two halves of a deadly whole.

"Where do we start?" I ask, already feeling more alive than I have in years.

Blade's eyes meet mine, silent understanding passing between us. "We retrace our steps. Go back to the beginning, to the day everything fell apart."

The weight of his body grounds me in the present, a shield against the pain of the past. I want to stay right here, right now.

"We'll figure it out together." I shift beneath him, pressing my body against his. "But right now, I need you. It’s been hard to admit this to myself, I never stopped loving you, Blade."

He springs into action with the deadly grace of an apex predator. He lifts me effortlessly, holding me tight against him. My body molds to his, familiar yet thrillingly new. Eight years of longing and hurt melt away with each step he takes.

"This is the room we were supposed to share," he says softly, his voice filled with hunger and promise.

My heart skips. The weight of his words, the depth of emotion in his eyes—it's almost too much. I imagined this happening a thousand different ways, Blade coming back for me. But nothing compares to the reality of being in his arms again.

He pushes open the solid wood door with his shoulder, and I catch my breath. The room is beautiful—spacious, with large windows letting in soft evening light. But it's not the decor that catches my eye. It's the little touches that scream 'Blade and Kiera.'

A framed photo of us from years ago sits on the nightstand—smiling and happy, not the painfully destroyed version in my proof album. My favorite throw blanket, the one he bought to keep me warm when I had pneumonia, drapes over a chair.

"You kept it," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Blade's teeth graze my throat, sending shivers down my spine. I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders as he pins me to the bed. His lips trail down my neck, leaving a scorching path. I arch into him, desperate for more.

He growls low and primal as he rips my shirt open. Buttons scatter, but I don't care. All I can focus on is the feel of his hands on my skin, the heat of his body pressed against mine.

He cups my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples into hard peaks. I moan, my hips bucking against him as I seek relief from the ache building inside me. He chuckles darkly, the sound sending thrills through me.

"So eager," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "I love having my desperate, greedy wife back."

I whimper at the raw emotion in his voice. It's almost a declaration, but the lust running through my veins craves possession. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, grinding against his hard length.

"Fuck, Kiera." He groans, his hips rocking against mine with equal desperation. I fumble with his belt buckle. He helps, his fingers deft and far steadier than mine as he frees himself.

"Lie still," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "You'll take everything I have to give you."

His touch is electric, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

He sucks and bites at my skin, marking me like a man possessed.

His teeth sink into my neck, my breasts, my hips.

Each bite sends jolts of pleasure through me, pulling ragged sounds from my throat.

The sensations are overwhelming—a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves me gasping.

His hands roam over my body, exploring every curve as if trying to memorize every inch of me. I surrender to his need to possess me completely.

His mouth works its way down my torso as he rips off my jeans, taking my panties with them, stripping me bare.

He wedges his broad shoulders between my thighs, and delicious vulnerability shivers down my spine.

His hot mouth descends on my aching core, and I nearly arch in half as his tongue plays over my flesh expertly.

The sensation overwhelms—heat and pleasure leaving me gasping.

His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he feasts on me.

The heat of his breath against my slick flesh, the roughness of his stubble against my thighs, the delicious pressure of his tongue circling my clit—it drives me insane.

My hips buck against his mouth before his powerful hands anchor them to the bed.

"Lie still," he demands again. "I have eight years' worth of pleasure to wring from you, my little Wraith."

A desperate scream escapes as he nips at my swollen clit, sending searing heat flooding through my body.

I'm trembling, sweating, desperate to close my eyes and fall over the edge, but I'm trapped in his heated, possessive gaze.

He holds me skillfully on the razor's edge of ecstasy, his eyes never leaving mine.

I'm a prisoner to his touch, his scent, his very presence—and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Blade!" I shriek as two thick fingers sink into my core, stretching me as they piston in and out. I splinter into a million fragments of bliss as Blade works me inside and out.

He smiles like a satisfied predator as I struggle to convince my lungs to work again.

I'm still trembling from aftershocks when Blade's powerful hands grip my waist. He rolls us over, positioning me on top, straddling his waist. His eyes, dark with desire, lock onto mine.

"Ride me," he commands, his voice husky. "Make us one."

My lungs seize. Those words—the exact same words he spoke on our wedding night. Suddenly, I'm catapulted back in time, lost in the vivid memory of our first time together.

I sink onto his hard length inch by agonizing inch, and the present blurs with the past. His eyes, those mesmerizing green depths, haven't changed. They still hold the same mixture of love, desire, and awe they did eight years ago.

As I take him fully inside me, I'm transported back to that night.

Gentle candlelight flickering across our skin, the whisper of clean sheets beneath us, the scent of the single rose he'd given me on the pillow beside him.

I'd scolded him for wasting money on silly things but was secretly touched by the gesture.

He'd been so patient, so careful with me. His hands, calloused and rough from the life we lived, were impossibly gentle as they explored my body. He'd let me set the pace, giving me full control.

"That's it, love," he'd whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

Now, as I ride him, I'm dizzy, almost disoriented.

I'm making love to the ghost of younger Blade and the commanding, dark, devastatingly sexy man beneath me simultaneously.

The past crashes against the present—then his muscles had tensed with the effort of holding back, letting me adjust to overwhelming new sensations.

Not of taking a man into my body; I'd been forced to endure that far too many times.

But being in this moment willingly was nearly incomprehensible.

Now the tension in him is built of lust, longing, pain, and promise all rolled into one.

I roll my hips, savoring the delicious friction. Blade's hands grip my waist tighter, guiding me down until he's buried to the hilt.

"God, Kiera," he groans, pulling me back to the present. "You feel even better than I remember."

I lean down, pressing my forehead against his. Our breaths mingle as I roll my hips, slow and deep. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through my body, building toward another crescendo.

"I love you," I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

It's too soon, too raw, but I can't help it. The emotion overwhelms me—a tidal wave I can't hold back.

Blade's eyes widen, and for a moment, I see that young man again. The one who looked at me like I hung the moon and stars. His hand cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek.

"I love you too," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I never stopped."

The admission breaks something inside me. Tears spring to my eyes as I increase my pace, chasing the pleasure building between us. Blade meets me thrust for thrust, our bodies moving in perfect harmony.

It's different from our first time, yet somehow the same. The raw need, the desperate attempt to merge our bodies and souls into one. But now there's an edge of desperation, of time lost and regrets buried.