Forbidden Warrior (Midsummer Knights)
Page 77
“Aye, come for me,” he rasped, and moved again, a rolling thrust that unleashed her from whatever had once moored her to the earth. Her already-shattered body broke apart in a thousand fiery sparks of pleasure.
He held her for what seemed like hours afterward, kissing her, combing her hair with his fingers, whispering how she pleased him, and with every touch, every word, every kiss, he made her heart expand. She wanted him for far longer than just one night.
And so, in the end, he ruined her in two ways.
Chapter 29
Next morning, they were up before dawn. Green-edged storm clouds rumbled on the horizon. Máel wrapped Cassia in every blanket he possessed and put her on Fury.
“Why am I on your horse?” she asked.
“He is loyal and valiant and faster than yours.”
“But what—”
“Ride down the southern hill,” he ordered.
She stared in confusion. “Why? They will be coming from the north, up the ledge path—”
“Go home, Cassia.”
Her heart started breaking. “No. Do not send me away, not yet—”
“There is nothing more. Nothing you need to see. Go home.”
“I have no home,” she said in a broken voice.
His eyes darkened with anger. He put a hand on her knee. “You do have a home. You have a castle and lands and a title. Use them. Live the life you were meant to live. Be the lady you were meant to be. Forget m
e. It was a dream, nothing more. It is over now.”
He smacked Fury on the rump and the horse took off down the southern trail, sending rocks out from under his hooves.
Máel thought he heard Cassia say something as they disappeared down the path, but he didn’t look back. He’d already hardened his heart, returned it to its natural state—stone. He belted the armor around his heart, and no one would never touch him again.
He was stone and steel and jagged bits.
He trudged to a small, tree-lined copse of trees just above the narrow trail and sat against a tree root. The world was gray. The winds were picking up. It was going to storm.
He tugged up the hood of his cloak and stared into the gray world. Had it been a sunny day, all he would have seen was gray. It was all he would ever see again, because Cassia was gone from his life.
She had to be gone. He’d had to send her off. His life was not one that she could share—not one she should have to share—and nothing could come of a union but pain. And peril.
He would tolerate both for two lifetimes if it meant having Cassia. But she deserved better than that.
She deserved better than him.
His heart had tumbled over the precipice. Everything he felt for her—respect, irritation, amusement, affection, lust—all the emotions folded into a fist and simply punched him over the edge. He fell into the great, gaping abyss of love.
Truly a void, for there was nothing here. No future, no hope, nothing of value he could offer her.
Love was the abyss.
Love was the lie.
He stared straight ahead and waited for the rains to begin.
It started slowly, scattering pelting hard drops on his clenched fist, which he had wrapped around his bow.