“I see. Can I ask why?”
I had expected a shitstorm, but he is being as composed as I am about it. “He offered it to me. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to. You have no idea how huge a deal this is for him, and me.”
“So it is your home together,” he presses.
“It will be,” I say carefully. “One day, maybe.” But now is as good a time as any to mention what CK asked of me before everything went to Hell and back. Just to cover my bases in case I do end up forgiving my sire. “Uhm, I told Constantine of your desire to come up with a different arrangement.”
“Oh?” he asks, looking away from me.
“Yeah, he said that he wanted us to move there. To Ponte.”
“Us?” he asks, his eyes flicking back to mine. “As in me and you?”
“Yes, that is what he said,” I say.
“Really?” he asks with a frown. “What’s the catch?”
I sigh. “I spend nights with him in our bed.”
Cole huffs. “Of course. Somehow, I don’t think so. I will think of something else.”
I just shrug.
His eyes bore into mine at my evasiveness, but he lets it go. I am glad because he thinks my lack of forthcoming is because I don’t want to discuss it with him, when in actual fact, I can’t say for certain that I will ever live there with CK again, but I can’t tell him why. We have reached our bedroom and we both pause, wondering what is going to happen next. He sighs and leads me inside and lets me go while he turns his back to change. He pulls on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and climbs into bed, all before I have even taken my jacket off. He is obviously trying to show me he wants nothing from me. It makes me feel even worse. I swap my own clothes for a long, white, cotton, old-fashioned nightgown. All my bits are covered, including the burns and Faerie marks, from my neck to my feet. I probably don’t look very fetching at all, and that was the idea. Cole hates it when I look vulnerable and my human age. Hopefully it will douse any desire he has for me. For extra measure, I twist my long, blonde hair into two braids and now I know I look the exact opposite of how he likes me. Maybe a Shift wouldn’t go amiss, I wonder briefly, but then think that is probably taking it too far. I climb stiffly into bed and he turns on his side away from me. It hurts like the dickens, but I do the same. This is not how this is supposed to be. I flop onto my back, prepared to take action. I reach for him hesitantly, but his voice stops me cold. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t do anything you don’t really want to.” I withdraw my hand and tuck it into my side as I turn back over. I curse myself for being weak and pathetic. What happened wasn’t the end of the world. It could have been far, far worse than it was. Cole is my husband, he isn’t going to hurt me and even if he did try, he would be on the losing side of that fight, not me. But I can’t do it yet. Not even for him.
Chapter 18
Buckinghamshire, England, March 2013 - Liv
I get up several times in the night to check the healing of the burns.
Cole is fast sleep so for the third time, I get up and creep into the bathroom. Gone. They have gone. I breathe a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t go very far in helping me get over it. I slide back into bed and Cole gathers me to him in his sleep and I feel like I can let him now. My body is no longer tainted, I feel like I am in an acceptable state to lie with my husband’s arms around me. I lie wide awake, enjoying listening to Cole’s steady breathing and his soft heartbeat. The gods, I want him. I slip out of his arms and go to check once more that the burns are still gone. They are, so I stare at myself in the mirror and give myself a talking-to.
Stop being so damn pathetic. He is your husband, if you want him, go and take him. Take back the Power that was taken from you and do it your way. He loves you and you love him. I take a deep breath and then whisper out loud the question that has been bouncing around in my head all night. “Do you really want Aelfric to be the last man that has taken you? Do you really want him to have that hold on you?” I shake my head ferociously and reply to myself, “No!”
I turn around and, still naked, I march back into the dim room. My eyes fall upon my husband, sleeping so soundly. I love him so much. I can do this. I move towards him and he stirs. His eyes fly open as he notices I am not next to him but standing naked at the foot of the bed. His eyes blaze over my body and my stomach clenches. I want my frumpy nightgown back, but I shake it off and let him look at me. He sees all my thoughts pass across my face and he puts his hand out to stop me from climbing onto the bed. I falter in my resolve. I can’t have him touching me, not yet, but I know I can touch him and give him something. He stares at me with his beautiful blue eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to his lips, “Hush,” I say. “Let me do what I can for you.”
He wants to resist, but he can’t, it is impossible for him. I pull his boxers down, and he springs free, already enormous, his tip glistening. I lean over him, keeping myself out of reach and slowly lower my mouth to him. He whimpers as my lips close over him and I slide my tongue down his length. I bring my hand up to circle him and it is over in a few seconds. He lets go and I drink in his desire, lapping up every last drop. As soon as I sit up, he pulls his boxers back up and turns away from me again. I know he doesn’t have the words, so I don’t take offense. I just snuggle under the covers and drift back off as I hear him mutter, “Thank you.”
I wake up to him watching me with a sad look, which he removes from his face when he sees me notice him. I can tell he is aching to touch me, and I want to let him.
“Give me your hand,” I whisper, holding mine out to him.
He just stares at it for the longest time. He eventually, hesitantly, reaches out and I grasp his fingers in a strong grip. He relaxes when I don’t freak out or pull away from him. “I’m sorry, Liv. I don’t know how to act with you.” His face is a mask of utter desolation and my heart breaks for him.
“Don’t act,” I say to him. “Just be.”
“Did he hurt you?” he whispers so quietly. “I mean really hurt you?”
He avoids my gaze and I, in turn, avoid his. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Not really. It was…”
The silence lingers.
“Was what?” he asks.
I pause, wondering if I can explain it to him. “Not an act of power. He did what he did, because he wanted the child.”
Cole closes his eyes as he thinks that over. For all his anger and pain over the act itself, I can see clearly that he is not happy that someone tried to impregnate me. I don’t blame him. I’m not either.