I tilted my head. “You sound surprised.”
“I enjoy hurting people, but not you, never you.”
I fell silent, wondering what it meant. Remo pushed up and reached over me and into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small parcel then set it down between us. “For you,” he said.
My eyebrows rose. He hadn’t given me a present earlier, but I had assumed the gifts for Greta and Nevio had been meant for me as well. It had been difficult enough to get something for Remo. Eventually I’d opted for a guide of running trails of the region as well as a quickly assembled photo book from our twin’s first seven months.
“What is it?”
“Open it,” Remo demanded, fingertips tracing my side and hip.
I lifted the lid and my breath stilled as my eyes registered the necklace with the pendant in the shape of wings. It was a beautiful piece of finely worked gold-smithing. Intricately gorgeous. I took it out carefully.
“Where did you get it? You didn’t leave the house.”
“I had it handcrafted by a local goldsmith shortly after I released you.”
My lips fell open in surprise. Remo helped me put the necklace on, and the cool gold settled in the valley between my breasts. “Ruinously gorgeous,” Remo murmured as he traced my skin.
I gave him a curious look.
“You ruined me for all other women.”
A wave of possessiveness overcame me. Remo was mine.
REMO
I watched Serafina as she stroked the heads of our children, patient, loving, even though they both had been crying on and off for hours. She sang to them, whispered words of sweet nothings to them. She had left her family for them so they would be safe, so they would get the life they deserved, the life they were destined for. I had seen the look in her eyes when she’d said goodbye to her twin. Serafina had given up so much for our children.
Her body was weaker than mine. She wasn’t as harsh or cruel or fearless.
But God she was strong.
When Nevio and Greta had finally fallen asleep, she straightened from where she’d been bent over their crib and when she noticed me, she tensed slightly but came toward me. She’d been oddly quiet today, and I knew something was bothering her, but I didn’t talk emotions if I could help it.
Serafina stopped in the hallway. “I’ve been here for three weeks, but I still don’t know what we are.”
I braced myself beside her shoulders, peering down at her. “You are an angel, and I’m your ruin.” My lips pulled into a wry smile.
She shook her head almost angrily. “What am I to you? Your lover? Your girlfriend? A nice change from your usual whores?”
My own anger spiked. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I want the truth. I need to know what to expect from you.”
“I love death. I love spilling blood and causing pain. I love to see terror in people’s eyes, and that won’t ever change,” I whispered harshly because it was true.
She looked up at me. “You are the cruelest man I know. You took everything from me.”
I nodded because that was true as well. “Few women can bear the darkness. I can’t … I won’t force you to be with me. You are free.”
“Free to do as I please,” she murmured, warm and soft against me. Tantalizing. “Even take another man into my bed?”
A burst of rage filled me. I wanted her for myself, wanted to remain the only man who’d ever tasted those perfect lips, who’d ever claimed her, but more than that I wanted her to want it too. I swallowed my fury. “Even that,” I said then continued in a harsh whisper, “I won’t stop you. I won’t punish you for it.”
She smiled a knowing smile. “But you will kill anyone who touches me.”
I brought our lips close. “Not just kill them, obliterate them in the cruelest way possible for touching something they are unworthy of.”
Challenge flickered in her eyes. “Are you worthy?”
I claimed her mouth, hard and desperate, before pulling back. “Oh no, Angel. From the day I saw you, I knew I was the least worthy of them all.” I should have never laid a hand on her, but I was a fucking bastard and had taken everything she was willing to give.
She tilted her head up, regarding me. She opened my shirt slowly, one button after the other, and it gave way under those elegant fingers. She rested her palm against my chest, over my heart. “Is there something in there capable of love?”
My fucking chest constricted. “Whatever’s in there, it’s yours. Whatever love I’m capable of, it’s yours too.”
She cupped my face, her eyes fierce, almost brutal in their intensity. “You are beyond redemption, Remo,” she whispered, and I smiled bitterly because I knew it.