Seychelle laid her hands over his. She didn’t try to hide the slight trembling, the indication of nerves, but then she was honest in their relationship. In her feelings. “I’ve never asked or expected you to be different, Savage. I made the choice to be with you as you are. I may take time to learn, but I will.”
There was no blame in her voice. No expectation of blame. Simply acceptance. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck because he knew how bad his needs could get—she didn’t. But she would.
He pressed his lips to her temple. “I want you to always remember, it’s my choice to take on whatever I do of the others’ rage, anger, pain, emotional distress, whatever I choose. They are completely unaware. I never take it all from them, just drain enough that they can deal. It isn’t something they ever asked me to do, and if they knew, they would be upset. If what I have to do to get rid of it ever is too much for you, I always want you to remember the blame lies with me, not them.”
He had to spell that out to her. He had to let her know that what happened inside him, that merciless, brutal volcano holding the demons would erupt and let them out and it would get bad. But that was on him. No one else. He waited. She remained silent. Waiting. So Seychelle. So patient.
“If there was one child in that school of nearly three hundred who Sorbacov despised, it was Czar. There were many older than he was, but it didn’t matter. Czar’s strong. He has a will of fuckin’ steel. No matter what Sorbacov did to him, or had done to him, and I swear once, they broke nearly every bone in his body, he never wavered. Never broke. Czar just doesn’t. He makes you believe. Sorbacov, I think, came to believe he was the enemy, his own personal demon.”
“Why didn’t he just kill him?”
Savage tapped out a rhythm on her shoulder with his fingers unknowingly, the code from his childhood when they sent messages to one another, the code Czar taught them. “Sorbacov liked games. Puzzles. And he didn’t like being bested. He wanted to win. That meant he had to actually win. With Czar, he thought he could by threatening Czar’s birth brothers. Sorbacov was certain he could break Czar through rape and torture. Sorbacov thought he could force Czar to give in, and he could bring one or more of the brothers to the school. Czar never gave in, although Sorbacov cheated and brought Gavriil, one of Czar’s birth brothers, there once or twice. Sorbacov claimed Gavriil had brought it on himself. Czar somehow made Sorbacov send him back to the other school.”
Savage caught her hand and tugged her around, taking her through the house to the master bathroom so he could walk her through to the wide grotto. He bent to turn on the taps. “You have to remember, Czar was just a kid, but he developed a way for us to fight back. He taught us to practice psychic talents. He devised ways to hone our skills with weapons we didn’t even have. He gave us hope, but most importantly, he gave us a code of honor and taught us to have a moral compass. It might not feel that way to everyone, but he kept us human when they wanted us to be killing machines.”
He found the shimmery bath crystals he’d purchased from Hannah Drake Harrington’s Floating Hat shop. The crystals turned the water a deep purple and shimmered with a bluish undertone. He caught at the hem of her top. “Arms up, baby.” Seychelle complied, and he pulled the little top over her head. Her bra followed. He turned her around so he could examine her nipples. “You sore at all?”
She shook her head. He lifted an eyebrow and tenderly ran his finger over those tight buds. Little goose bumps rose over her skin and she shivered in reaction. He couldn’t help himself; he leaned forward and licked first one and then the other before drawing each breast into his mouth and sucking gently, giving each one equal attention. She cradled his head in her arms, her breathing changing to a ragged pant.
Giving herself. She did that for him without reservation. He lifted his head and found her mouth. Took it. Took everything. God. Her kisses. They were sheer magma, flowing through his veins in a slow burn straight to his belly, spreading through his body and reaching his groin. His woman. Nothing like her. He lifted his head, licked at her soft lips.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, angel.”
Savage sat on the edge of the tub to test the water. He wanted it hot for her. Steam was rising, but he didn’t want it so hot it was uncomfortable. “The point I’m making about Czar is this: we needed him. Sorbacov wanted him dead. Not just dead, baby, but before he died, he wanted him suffering as much as possible. I was so little the first time I realized we would never make it without him and he was in such pain. It radiated off of him. Not just physical, but mental. He took everyone on. Not just us, but the other kids too. The ones he knew he couldn’t save. He knew so much, still does. He’s scary with what he knows. Anyway, it started back then. I was about four or five when I started trying to take it away from him. Just a little bit. Just enough to help him out. I didn’t know what else I could do. Then little by little when the others were at their worst. I would practice all the time.”