Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

“Who’s to say he won’t simply come back again and again, until he can corrupt me?”

Joss was quiet for a moment.

She went cold as the realization hit her. “You’re going to fight him.”

“It’s the only way,” he said again.

Anger tightened her chest. “You should’ve told me about your intentions.”

“Why?” His look was level. “It’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”

She jumped to her feet. “Because of that trust you keep on asking me for.”

He got up too. “I’m a skilled fighter and an expert on paranormal abilities. So, yeah. Trust me.”

“This is my life. These decisions aren’t yours alone to make.”

“There’s no other option.”

She squared her shoulders. “There is.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If you think I’d let you fight Lupien, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

“My life, Joss, my decision.”

He banged a fist on the table, making the plates rattle. “My responsibility.”

Her voice raised in volume. “Forced marriage or not, you can’t tell me what to do.”

Dragging his hands through his hair, he pulled on the roots. “For the love of every god that ever existed.” A moment of silence passed before he dropped his arms at his sides. When he faced her again, he spoke patiently, as if he were talking to a child. “If I don’t do this, we’ll never be free of him. Can you honestly live like that, looking over your shoulder every minute of every day?”

No, she couldn’t imagine living like that, but she also couldn’t let Joss go into a battle he had little to no chance of winning. “Why? Why are you so set on doing this? Is the team and the mission really worth it?”

He regarded her quietly. “This one isn’t for the team.”

“No? Then why?”

“This one is for you.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I’m doing this for you,” he said, taking her hand.

She pulled away. “Why? You don’t owe me anything.”

His gaze was piercing. “I disagree.”

“Because we fucked?” she cried out.

His smile was faint. “Responsibility.”

“Damn you, Joss.” She spun away, staring at the window so he wouldn’t see the turmoil on her face as she tried to pull herself together. Her wry laugh masked her anguish. “Marriage? You didn’t have to take it quite that far.”

“You’re mine, Cle.”

“For that you have to die?”

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder. “I’ve already taken too much from you to ask for more, but just give in to me one more time. Give me your trust, Cle.”

Her heart sank. “You’re asking for the one thing I can’t give you.”

Gripping her shoulder harder, he turned her back to face him. “Why won’t you at least try?”

“Trust isn’t given,” she said with sadness. “It’s earned.”

His gray eyes hardened. Dropping his arm at his side, he turned on his heel and walked from the room.Chapter 34Even if Clelia wouldn’t trust him, he’d keep her safe. He owed her a chance at life, and more. He owed her his soul for taking away his nightmares. Since that night he’d kidnapped her, he’d never dreamt of his ghosts again. It was as if she’d somehow absolved him.

Now new dreams invaded his mind, glimpses of a future with things he’d never thought he’d have, like waking up with her face the first thing he saw every morning, and a house filled with the furniture and warmth that would make it a home. Maybe even the cry of a baby. Those dreams had stolen into his spirit when he’d been too busy to notice and rooted there, giving him hope. He wanted that hope more than his old life, even more than his team, and he’d kill to have and hold it. He’d kill for her.

Marching up the stairs, he flung open the bedroom door and stripped on his way to the shower. Dinner be damned. He needed to cool down. The water was gas-heated, but he turned on the cold tap only and got under the icy spray, letting the freezing cold drops from the high-pressure nozzle needle his skin. After soaping his body and washing his hair, he turned off the water and toweled himself dry. As per habit, he cleaned the bathroom and wiped up the water on the floor with a rag. He was a neat freak, but he also didn’t believe in leaving his dirty bathroom for someone else to clean.

When he stepped back into the room with a towel wrapped around his body, he froze. Clelia lay in the middle of the bed, gloriously naked, the flames of the fires dancing over her pale skin.

His cock came to attention, tenting the towel. “What are you doing?” he asked in a gruff voice.

She pushed up on one arm. “If you think only you get to decide when and how we have sex, you better think again.”

Motherfucking… He couldn’t form a strong enough word for the thought that went off in his head. The things he wanted to do to her… Advancing, he said, “You’re a temptress, know that?”