The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld 12)

“This, you’ve told me before.”

“Well, it bore mentioning again.”

A knock sounded, and relief glinted in his eyes. Hadn’t liked the direction of the conversation? He moved to the door to speak to the intruder and Katarina sneaked an avocado slice.

When he returned to her side, he held a large black-and-white mutt. The dog had fleas and multiple scars, as if he’d once served as bait in a fighting ring.

She recognized him. One of the strays from outside the chapel.

“I know this boy can’t replace the others,” Baden said, “but he clearly needs an advocate. He showed up on our doorstep.”

What! No. Absolutely not. She’d lost so much already; she couldn’t bear to lose more. “Take him to the nearest shelter. They’ll check for a microchip. If he doesn’t have one, they’ll put up posts to find his owners.”

The wiggling dog growled at Baden, who shifted from one foot to the other, struggling to maintain his hold. The action only aggravated the dog further, and he snapped and snarled, baring the sharpest set of teeth she’d ever seen.

“Katarina—”

“No.” Too raw and ragged to offer any more help.

With a sigh, Baden carried the dog away.

She set the tray on the floor, no longer hungry, and drew the covers over her head.

When he returned, Baden settled beside her and draped a glove-covered arm over her middle. Strangely enough, she fell into another peaceful rest—

Only to awake with a jolt as he muttered, “Kill. Kill!”

She stiffened. He wanted to kill her? She scrambled up. Lamplight trickled over him. His eyes were closed, his features pale and taut. He was sleep talking?

“Shhh. You don’t need to kill anyone,” she told him softly.

“Threats...too many threats.” There was a husky quality to his voice, one she’d never heard before. “They can’t be allowed to live.”

“Who dares to threaten you?”

He answered as if he heard her, even understood her, despite his current state. “Everyone.”

“Why?” She brushed her fingers over his furrowed brow, and he actually leaned into the caress. When she remembered the command he’d once bellowed at her—Do not touch me. Ever—she drew back.

He frowned and kicked at the covers. “I won’t be imprisoned again. Never again.”

How long had he been locked away?

This man had lived, in some capacity, for a very long time. Considering the violence of his world, he must have grappled with his fair share of ordeals. “Shhh,” she repeated. “No one’s going to imprison you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Can only trust myself.”

Because he’d responded well to her singing in the past, she hummed. Gradually, the tension drained from him. He relaxed against the pillows.

So beautiful, she thought. And like this he was almost...innocent. Like one of the abused dogs she’d rescued. Once forced to fight to survive, desperate for a safe home, hungry for affection...finally safe and able to hope for better.

In a fairy tale, he would be cast as the prince and the dragon. Right now, she would be cast as the princess, once again the damsel in distress. Well, things were about to change. Today they would switch roles. She would be the dragon prince, and he would be the princess. In the morning, she might even kiss him awake.

Kiss him? Whoa! Too far!

But his perfect lips snagged her attention, delicious warmth uncoiling in her belly.

Ignore it! Determined to use her energy to protect him—this man who’d fed her and comforted her—she remained awake the rest of the night, just in case. But no one attempted to sneak into the room; no one even knocked on the door.

When he sat up with a jolt, fully awake and aware, she yawned and muttered, “We’re alone. Everything’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” He climbed to his feet. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Was he kidding? “Because of what you said last night.”

He went still, his back to her. “What did I say last night?”

He couldn’t remember? “You said I’m the reason you breathe—or used to breathe—and you’d be lost without me.”

The muscles between his shoulders knotted, pulling at the shirt he wore. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m teasing. There’s a difference.”

“Teasing?” He spun. “You’re healing.”

She was, wasn’t she? An-n-nd with the realization, grief and guilt enveloped her. But even still, the waves weren’t as big and didn’t quite tug her under the tide.