The Darkest Warrior (Lords of the Underworld 14)

His hands fisted at his sides, mighty weapons rendered useless in the greatest battle of his life. "I can't imagine not wanting you, lass."

Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she wheezed for breath. Those tears--little droplets of water--affected him like a dagger through the heart; they were killing him.

She used the back of her wrist to wipe the moisture away. Narrowed her eyes. Lifted her chin. Squared her shoulders. A transition he'd witnessed many times before.

Gillian had just gone full-blown warrior.

"I understand now," she said, her tone almost deadened.

Bit by bit, the emotion on her face simply vanished, until she peered up at him with cold, hard eyes devoid of affection, adoration and tenderness. All the things he'd grown to love and crave. Things he couldn't imagine living without ever again.

He hadn't been dying before, he realized. No. Oh, no. He was dying now, watching this. Watching Gillian use magic to summon ice. This slayed him. Her tears had been difficult to witness, even more difficult to witness than the ones she'd shed after sex, because she hadn't been broken, then. She'd been free.

She was broken now. Because of me.

Too much!

"I truly don't get a happy ending," she said in that horrid, deadened tone. "You'll break our bond. Our precious, holy bond that gifts us both the family we've always wanted. I'll yearn for you still, but you'll no longer yearn for me. Or maybe we'll yearn for each other, but won't be able to do anything about it. Maybe the shears will prevent us from ever bonding again." She laughed without humor. "Perhaps I'm an Oracle. I can see the demise of our relationship so clearly. But I don't care. Not anymore."

"No one has ever broken a bond and survived, but we will beat the odds." He rubbed the bird tattooed on his chest before he tugged on a pair of pants, a pair of boots. "If we cannot bond again, but still yearn for each other, we can marry as humans do."

"Won't be the same. Our bond allows you to control the demon and feel without consequence. Our bond makes me immortal. What will happen when he overtakes you again, huh? What will happen when I'm mortal--if I even survive the transition?"

"You will live, will remain immortal. You took the potion, and you made the transition. That won't ever change. You are strong enough now."

"But I won't matter to you," she said, and turned away.

"You will matter to me, always," he hissed. "What you won't do is turn me into a villain over this. I'm willing to give up what I want most, so that you can have what you need most. Because you deserve free choice. I won't be like your stepfather. I won't take what you don't wish to give. If your heart belongs to William, you deserve to know it."

If the male touches her, I will--

Nothing. Because nothing mattered more than her freedom of choice. He forced his mind to blank--as blank as Gillian's features.

"I told you I loved you and I meant it," she said. "I loved you. Then. Now?" She shrugged.

His heart sped into a gallop, and sweat beaded over his brow. He felt as if he'd run hundreds of miles in an instant, adrenaline flooding his veins. "The ice will melt. I'll make sure of it. You'll love me again."

"You fear," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You fear I'll betray you the way Sin betrayed you. That is the only reason you plan to do this."

Perhaps it was a reason, but not the reason. "What if you only think you love me?" he croaked.

"In this, we can't live by what if."

Words he'd spoken, now used against him. Still, he hardened his resolve. For her. "In this, I can't live any other way."

A moment passed in silence before she lifted her chin another notch, as if she'd just made a world-altering decision. "You convinced yourself that you're doing the right thing, but all you've done is tear me apart." She loaded up with different weapons and a canteen of water. "There's no power great enough to make me desire someone I don't actually want. If I thought there was the slightest chance I belonged with William, I would have resisted you. But you...some part of you suspected I wanted someone else, but you took me anyway. So congratulations. You don't have to wait to sever the bond to find out if we can be together. I'm done with you. We're done."

"We are never done," he roared, ruining everything he'd previously said. He took her by the shoulders, spun her and yanked her against his body. Then he kissed her. Kissed her until she softened against him and kissed him back.

Relief flooded him. Her ice was melting.

"Show me you love me," she croaked. "Show me now."

And he did.

*

"Time to go," Puck said.

Gillian strapped on her weapons and marched behind her husband, glaring daggers into his back as they abandoned the camp and trekked through the sand dunes.

After they'd made love, after he'd told her they would never be done, after he'd shown her just how much he loved her by worshipping her body with his hands and mouth, he'd acted as if nothing had happened and dressed.

She would have liked to return to her cold, emotionless state, detached from the pain still festering inside her, but she didn't. If she was going to make him understand her side of this, she needed every emotion in her arsenal.

Two suns glowered overhead, and only heated with each new mile they traipsed. When the sand dunes gave way to a forest-like oasis, Puck glanced back at her for the thousandth time, silently beseeching her to understand his point of view.

She gave him the finger.

Although, she couldn't help but remember how--when he'd first brought her to Amaranthia--he'd walked away without looking back once. Today? He couldn't stop casting her longing gazes.

The realization shouldn't soften her, but dang it! She was easy as pie where Puck was concerned.

He didn't trust his feelings for her, or her feelings for him. And okay, okay. She hadn't trusted their feelings for each other, either, but only for a little while. Or off and on sporadically. Whatever! Then she'd gotten over it and decided to fight for him. To fight for them. And yes, okay, earlier she'd let fear about the prophecies scare her again. Or more. But he wanted to cut her loose, just in case some secret part of her wanted William.

Unacceptable!

And yes, it seemed honorable on the surface. But truth was, he didn't trust her, and a bond without trust wasn't a bond at all.

Or maybe she didn't trust him, and believed he wouldn't want her without the bond? Maybe she feared he would revert to his old ways, become the Ice Man again, and decide to wed Princess Alannah of Daingean and open a stable.

No, no. This was his crime. His! He might destroy their family. The risk was too great, with no real reward. Why couldn't he see that?

I want my happily-ever-after! But even now, she sensed the end of all she held dear.

A distant moan of pain drew her out of the chaos in her head. She frowned when she realized they'd left the forest and entered another stretch of sand. "What was that noise?"

"Came from there," Puck said, pointing. "Up ahead."

She scanned the dunes...and found a woman in tattered clothing, slouched on a dune, wind blowing the scarf she wore, causing the material to wave like a flag. Skin the color of the sands, hair the color of the sky and eyes like emeralds.

As she detected a telltale essence, recognition dawned in her heart, then her mind. "One of the Oracles!"

The woman held out her arm, but she wasn't strong enough to keep it in the air. How long had she been without food or water? Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. She was dirty and probably cold.

"Help. Please..."

"What are you waiting for?" She gave Puck a little push forward. "Let's help her."

He planted his heels, keeping her in place. "What is she doing in Connacht territory?"

Oh...crap. "You think she's a trap?" Help, please--Everyone in Amaranthia knew a woman's plea was basically Gillian's bat signal.

"Possibly."

She scanned the dunes again, searching for any hint of foul play this time. N

o creeping shadows. No odd scents in the air. No glint of metal peeking from the sand. No disturbances in the sand whatsoever. No hum of magic.

"Help," the girl called again.

"We can't stand here, doing nothing." Gillian remembered her first few years in the realm. She'd been lonely, hurting and desperate. Could she truly turn her back on a woman in the same condition?

"Stay here," Puck said. "I'll approach her."

Stand idle, watching, as he put himself in danger? No. "What happened to being impressed with my skill? You stay here. I'll test the waters."

Weapons at the ready, Gillian rushed around him. Halfway there, however, she slowed to better gauge her surroundings. Too late. Between one step and the next, a glittery patch of air--a doorway, or portal--opened up. Inside her, magic pinged, as if it had just brushed up against an electric current.

She stopped, spun. She hadn't changed locations, or entered another realm. The sand dunes still encircled her, the Oracle a few feet away.

"Stay where you are, Puck." Just in case. "There's some sort of magic shield around me. Maybe. I'm not sure what it is, exactly."

No response. She glanced over his shoulder and found him standing in the same spot. He hadn't moved an inch, and yet strain contorted his expression, a vein bulging in the center of his forehead. He acted as if he wanted to move, and fought with every muscle in his body to do so, but couldn't. His mouth was the only thing in motion, opening and closing. She thought she read her name on his lips, but no sound reached her ears.

She frowned as her stomach churned with unease. This had been a trap. Set by the Oracle? But why?

Perhaps Sin had learned of Puck's return and had used the unwitting Oracle to snag him?

But when was an Oracle ever unwitting?