The Darkest Passion

CHAPTER TEN

WHO WAS HERE?

A naked Aeron threw open the door, and Olivia watched him unabashedly. That beautiful butterfly flew at the top of his back and she had touched it. In fact, his skin was welted and bleeding from where she’d scratched him. Perhaps that should have embarrassed her. It didn’t. She was proud. She’d marked him. Marked the man she lusted after. And he had responded; he had climaxed. She wanted to do it again. Only, she wanted to do more. Go all the way.

Stupid intruders.

Who was here and what did they want? If it wasn’t life-and-death, Olivia hoped they fell down the stairs later.

The violent thought, so unlike her, gave her pause. Or maybe such violence wasn’t unlike her. She was new and improved, after all.

And the new and improved Olivia might—might—have gotten Aeron to change his mind about that cuddling by subtly mentioning how much others enjoyed it. And, to be honest, cuddling sounded more delightful by the second. Warmth, strength and raw sex appeal, all wrapped around her.

Maybe next time. If there was a next time. He’d seemed so sure this would be a one-time deal.

“What?” Aeron barked. His big body blocked her view, so Olivia couldn’t see who it was.

“Heard some shouting.” Cameo stepped to the side for a peek inside the room, finally answering Olivia’s unspoken question. The female warrior spotted Olivia’s disarray, and her mouth dropped open in astonishment.

Olivia just grinned and waved. She wasn’t embarrassed by what had happened with Aeron. Well, not much. She was mostly jubilant. She’d given up everything she’d ever known to be here and experience the glories of the flesh, so inhibitions weren’t going to be tolerated.

Besides, over the years, she’d seen humans do all manner of things. Sex, drugs. So much good, so much bad. What she’d done had been beautiful. There was no shame in it.

“You look well,” Olivia told her.

“You, too.” Had Cameo’s voice not been so sorrowful, Olivia thought she might have heard laughter in the undertone.

“Eyes on me, Cam,” Aeron said, clearly irritated for some reason. “Why are you here?”

Cameo faced him, lips twitching. “Torin watched some footage he recorded last night and caught a glimpse of Nightmares. Far as he could tell, she went into a building and never came out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Shadow Girl. Olivia told us she’s possessed by the demon of Nightmares. Anyway, we’re going into town to, uh—” her gaze flicked pointedly to Olivia “—chat with her. You in or out?”

Aeron stiffened, and there was a beat of silence. Then he said, “In,” and glanced over his shoulder at Olivia. “Don’t get comfortable. You’re coming with us. While we’re out there, we’ll find someplace for you to stay until you decide where you want to live permanently.”

What? He still planned to get rid of her? After everything they’d done? Sure, she’d told him it wouldn’t change anything, but that had been before it changed everything. That one little taste of pleasure wouldn’t be enough for her.

You were assertive before, in this bed. You can be that way again. “Sorry, but no can do. I’d probably almost die again,” she said, and she almost grinned when his eyes widened. The man had a serious problem with thoughts of her death, expecting it at every corner. “I think I’ll stay here.” And you’ll like it, she projected to him. Some people didn’t know what they needed to achieve happiness. Clearly, Aeron was one of them. She’d just have to instruct him, as she’d already planned.

He massaged the back of his neck. “We talked about this, Olivia. You can’t stay here. No matter what happened between us.”

“Okay.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood, dragging the sheet with her.

“So you’re going into town with me?” he asked, obviously suspicious. And angry and relieved. What a weird combination of emotions.

“Of course not.” Placing one foot in front of the other while her knees trembled was difficult, but she managed to do it. Without falling. She brushed past Aeron—oh, sweet Deity, his heat, his strength—and smiled as she did the same to Cameo, who winked at her.

She paused in the hallway as a thought occurred to her.

Glancing at Aeron over her shoulder, she said, “I’m going to explore your fortress. Oh, and, Aeron. When you fail to find Nightmares, whose name is Scarlet, by the way, please don’t come home and take your bad mood out on me. Unless you want me to kiss it better. That would be acceptable.”

She didn’t wait for his response, but meandered around the corner.

“Olivia,” he called.

Ignoring him, she continued on. She had a feeling he wanted to argue with her. Her body was still humming with threads of the pleasure he’d given her and arguing would ruin that.

“Olivia! You’re practically naked.”

Naked? She stilled, glanced down at the sheet draped over her bare breasts and gulped. Partial nudity was fine when she was with Aeron, but not so fine when she would most likely run into others. And that had nothing to do with a lack of confidence, she assured herself.

Being with Aeron had helped defeat the memory of what had happened in hell, yes. But then, nothing about the two experiences had been similar. Aeron had sought pleasure; the demons had sought pain. Still. Seeing lust in someone else’s eye might bring those memories roaring back to life.

With a sigh, she rushed back inside the room, bypassing Aeron and his infuriated expression without comment. Cameo had already wandered off. Olivia dropped the sheet, grabbed her shirt and pulled the fabric over her head. Thankfully, she was still wearing her skirt and panties.

“Better,” she said with a nod.

“No, it’s not. Not for what we’re about to do. And yes, I’m saying you’re coming with me.”

She closed the distance between them, rose to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “See you later. And please be careful.” Down the hall she meandered again.

“Olivia.”

She ignored him, attention riveted by the many doorways ahead of her. She peeked her head into the first, unsure of what she’d find. Of course. A workout room. She should have guessed, but as many times as she’d secretly been here, her focus had been on Aeron.

“Olivia,” he called, and this time he sounded resigned. “Fine. Stay. Whatever. I don’t care.”

Liar. At least she hoped he was lying.

The second room, she saw, was empty. The third, she heard voices floating from before she reached the doorway. Not allowing herself to be dissuaded by fear or uncertainty, she peeked inside.

It was a bedroom, like Aeron’s, only there was no pink or lace. Dark walls, metal furniture rather than wood, and of all things, a karaoke station in the corner. A woman was seated at the side of a large bed, reading to a man who rested atop the mattress.

Olivia must have made a noise because that man’s gaze lifted and landed on her. He tried to rise, but the woman protested. “Gideon. What are you doing? Lie down!”

Gideon. Olivia racked her brain. Keeper of Lies?

“I’m resting,” he croaked out. “We’re alone.”

Oh, yes. He was indeed the keeper of Lies, unable to tell a single truth without suffering severe pain. He was also very, very cute, with blue hair, electric eyes and a pierced eyebrow. But he was clearly injured. White bandages were wrapped around his wrists where his hands should have been.

Confident. Aggressive. “Sorry to interrupt. I was just…in the neighborhood.” Truth. “I’m Olivia,” she said, waving. Though this demon raised her hackles as Torin had done, she didn’t scream at him to leave or run away herself. Before, she’d been injured and lost to those terrible memories. Now, her body was stronger—or as strong as a human body could be. She could handle this. “I’m with Aeron.”

Which wasn’t a lie. He was one of the reasons she’d come here. She’d just kissed him while lying in a bed and oh, her heart had yet to settle over that. She’d never seen him do that with another female.

Just like that, her mind immersed itself in what had happened. Wow. Just…wow. While his body was hard as a rock, his mouth was soft as a rose petal. His hands had moved all over her, she’d rubbed herself on his massive erection, and those big fingers had pushed inside her. The pleasure…the heat…the surprising abandon…she’d never experienced anything like it.

Now she knew. You really could die from pleasure.

He’d tasted of mint, sweet and spicy; together, they’d been the perfect aphrodisiac, overwhelming her senses. Completion had become her sole source of survival.

“You’re the angel,” the woman said with a welcoming grin, tugging her from her thoughts.

“Yes. Fallen, but yes.”

Gideon relaxed against his pillows. “Wonderful.”

“Pay no attention to him. He’s grumpy from boredom. I’m Ashlyn, by the way.” Ashlyn had golden hair, golden eyes, and looked as delicate as an iris. “Maddox’s wife.”

“Maddox, keeper of Violence,” Olivia said. A giant of a man with black hair, violet eyes identical to Aeron’s and a seemingly untamable temper. “You’ve married?”

“In our own private ceremony,” Ashlyn replied with a blush. She stood. “He’s not so bad, though, I promise.” Her hands smoothed over her rounded belly. “He’s a sweetie once you get to know him.”

Olivia couldn’t help herself. She strode forward and placed her own hands on that belly. Pregnant females had always drawn her, for she’d always known she would never bear children herself—another secret wish of hers. Angels were created, not born, so even if she’d experienced physical desire with another of her kind, she wouldn’t have conceived.

Now that she was human…perhaps there was a possibility.

With Aeron? A girl could hope. For a moment, she pictured what children of theirs would look like. They wouldn’t be born with all those tattoos, of course, and that was a shame, but they might have his beautiful violet eyes, and even his wings. Everyone should experience the joys of flight, if only once. Perhaps their children would even have Aeron’s grit and determination, driving her mad while at the same time enchanting her.

She sighed, returning her attention to the task at hand.

“They are strong, your twins,” she said, knowing mothers welcomed such news. “Fire and ice. You’ll have your hands full, keeping them out of trouble, but you’ll be happier for it.”

Ashlyn’s jaw dropped and for a long while, she simply blinked up at the taller Olivia. “T-twins? How do you know I’m having twins?”

Oh, no. She’d ruined the surprise, hadn’t she? “Sensing who grows in a woman’s womb is a gift all angels possess.”

“That…that just can’t be.” Her skin was paling by the second, even becoming tinted with green. “There’s only one being inside me. I mean, I’m progressing normally. Right?”

How much to tell her? Only enough to calm her, perhaps. “No. You’re progressing slowly. Your children are immortal and require a much longer gestation. But don’t worry. As you promised me, I now promise you. Both your son and your daughter are healthy.”

“A son? A daughter?”

Great. She’d ruined another surprise.

With a shaky hand, Ashlyn brushed a lock of honey-colored hair from her face and hooked it behind her ear. “I need to lie down. I need to call Maddox. I—I—” Her wild gaze swung to Gideon. “Would you mind terribly if—”

“Yes,” he said, grinning. “I would mind.”

She exhaled heavily. “Thank you.” As if she were lost in a trance, the pretty Ashlyn padded from the room, not sparing Olivia another glance.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia called. For more than one reason. Now she was alone with Lies. A situation in which she had never thought to find herself. Injured as he was, however, she couldn’t leave him. “Would you, uh, like me to continue the story?” she asked. Not waiting for a reply, she lifted the book Ashlyn had left behind—ohhh, a romance novel, how decadent!—and claimed the woman’s seat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” he said. “Your voice is not…creepy.”

Meaning he wouldn’t and it was. Rejected.

She fanned the book’s pages, doing her best to hide her disappointment. “What you’re hearing is a layer of truth. There’s nothing I can do about it. Well, except lie, but that’s not something I want to do. They taste horrible. Plus, they’re too complicated. Feelings get hurt, fights erupt.”

“Yeah, I’d know nothing about that. Lies are awesome,” he said, but she knew he was agreeing with her. There was envy in his tone. “I wish…nothing. I wish nothing.”

Poor guy. He must wish for a lot of things. “So. Do you still want me to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” Progress. “Can I read now?”

“Yes,” he said again. “I’d rather not talk.”

Oh. Still no romance novel for her, then. “About what?”

“About you. I have no desire to know why you’re here.”

“So you can help me?” she asked hopefully. From fear to need? And so quickly. Perhaps that proved the depths of her desperation to succeed.

“Sure. Why not?”

Choosing to ignore the lie—perhaps he merely thought he couldn’t help her, but would surprise himself—Olivia told him about her decision to fall, what she hoped to gain and the progress she’d made with Aeron. It was nice, having an unbiased bystander to share with. Someone who wouldn’t judge her.

“So you hate him, then?” the warrior asked, and she knew that he meant love.

Love. Did she love Aeron? “No. Yes. Maybe.” She still didn’t know. “I think about him all the time. I want to be with him, give myself to him fully. You know, sexually,” she added with a blush, in case he didn’t understand. Confident. “He said he wouldn’t have sex with me, though.”

“Smart little shit, our Aeron.” Gideon’s grin was slow to form, but wicked and sultry because of it. “Listen, here’s a little unhelpful advice. Don’t consider sneaking into his bedroom tonight—and don’t make lots of noise so he doesn’t kill you, thinking you’re the enemy. Oh, and don’t be naked.”

“Excellent suggestions, thank you,” she said, brightening. She kicked her feet onto the bed. She still wore her boots, and the black leather glinted in the light. “Men do like their nakedness, I’ve noticed. Aeron didn’t want anyone else to see my…breasts.”

The new and improved her could still be embarrassed, she realized.

“How wrong you are. Oh, and, Olive? In that position, I can’t see your panties,” he said, clearly amused.

Confident, you are confident. “Do you like them?”

He blinked in surprise, clearly having expected her to change positions. “I hate them.”

“Really?” That wasn’t embarrassing, she decided; that was empowering. “Would you like them as a souvenir? Since I plan to take your advice and crawl into Aeron’s bed naked, I’m not going to need them anymore.”

Gideon laughed outright. “Nope. I wouldn’t. I would hate to have them as a souvenir. And not just because I’m sure Aeron will be thrilled to know I have his girlfriend’s panties.”

Aeron’s girlfriend. A lie, from Gideon’s point of view, but she could have melted into a puddle. “Then they’re yours. I’ll give them to you before I take off.”

That earned her another laugh. “I don’t like you at all, boy. Not at all.”

She beamed. “Ditto. So now that I’ve told you about me, tell me about him. Aeron. I mean, I know who he is, but I know nothing about his past. I want to understand him. Reach him. Help him stop worrying about my eventual death.” And accept his own.

“No way.” Meaning sure thing.

Gideon shifted on the bed. A lock of blue hair had lodged into the headboard, and it pulled with his movement. He grimaced, reached up, but was unable to clasp a single strand with his bandaged wrists. His frustrated growl propelled her into action.

She dropped her legs, leaned forward and gently smoothed the hair free. “Better?”

“No,” he muttered gruffly.

“Good. I like the blue, by the way. Maybe I’ll dye mine.” She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, to be considered later. Along with that navel piercing. Right now, she wanted to learn about Aeron. Who he’d been, what had shaped him.

“Forgetting Aeron…where do you not want me to start?”

“I know you warriors were kicked from the heavens into ancient Greece. I’ve heard the stories about the torment you caused, slaying innocent humans, torturing, raiding, pillaging, destroying everything you encountered, and so on and so forth.”

He shrugged. “You heard wrong. We had total control of our demons and weren’t lost to bloodlust. And when we did finally lose control, the guilt of what we’d done, well, it was minimal.”

Guilt. A terrible burden to carry. And from what she’d seen of these Lords, they carried far more than any one person should ever have to bear. They deserved peace, she decided. Once and for all.

“Aeron wasn’t a warrior,” Gideon continued, “and yet his actions, even when unwarranted, didn’t torment him—though I was always sure he hated what he did a little too much and loved himself for it. Even still, he did the least amount of work, making the rest of us do all the killing to protect the god king.”

Olivia quickly translated Gideon’s meaning. Aeron had sometimes loved his job a little too much and had hated himself for it, but he’d also loved his friends, so he’d done their work, too, sparing them some of the burden, which had probably been torturous for him.

Guilt, she thought again. Even then, he had carried massive amounts of it. He had enjoyed hurting those who’d hurt others, and had most likely considered himself just as evil as they were.

Before he died, before she died, she would teach him otherwise. He wasn’t evil. He was a protector. No wonder the thought of her death troubled him. In his eyes, he would have failed to protect her. The sweet, darling man.

“Please, go on,” she beseeched.

Gideon nodded. “All those deaths never affected him, making him see fatality around every corner. And then, when our hated enemy, Baden, was not decapitated, Aeron saw that immortals could live forever. That didn’t freak him out.”

Okay, so. The deaths he’d brought about in the line of duty had given him a healthy appreciation for mortality, especially when his dear friend was decapitated. Now, he expected everyone around him to die, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it—nothing he could do to protect them, as she’d just figured out.

To a man who valued strength and power, that helplessness had to bother him greatly. That must be why he kept himself so distanced from everyone but Legion. The fewer people he cared about, the fewer people he had to worry about saving.

So how had Legion snuck her way past his defenses?

More than that, how had Legion escaped his demon’s need to reprimand? The little fiend had hardly lived a blameless life. Look what the creature had done to innocent Olivia.

“As for Legion,” Gideon said, seeming to read her thoughts. “I think Aeron has never secretly craved a family of his own, and Legion doesn’t give him that.”

So. Aeron had secretly wanted a family—just as she had—and Legion provided that for him. Somewhat. I could become his family, as well, Olivia thought. Not that she wanted to be Legion’s stepmother, but for the pleasure of staying with Aeron, she could endure even so heinous a title.

“I don’t see the eagerness in your eyes, angel, and I’m very glad for it. You should know that, even in the heavens, he preferred wild women, and I can sense that, at heart, you’re as wild as can be—no matter that you clearly haven’t convinced yourself otherwise. Though Aeron thinks that’s what he wants, I assure you, it’s not what he needs.”

Oh…no, she thought, suddenly dejected. Aeron preferred tame women, but Gideon thought he needed someone wild. Gideon also thought that, no matter what Olivia did or said, she wasn’t wild at heart and would never be.

“Why are you warning me away? Only a few minutes ago, you told me how to seduce him.”

“My girl Aeron doesn’t deserve a little torment now and then.”

Oh. A little entertainment. That’s what Gideon considered her.

He was wrong. Maybe she’d been gentle before—or had pretended to be—but the more time she spent in this fortress, the more she was learning about herself.

Gentleness was what she’d had her entire life. Lysander had been gentle with her. The other angels had been gentle with her. She’d been gentle with them.

In Aeron’s arms, she’d come alive with sensation. She’d wanted more, wanted harder and chaotic, control unattainable. She’d wanted wild. A few times, he’d tried to slow things down. He’d tried to soften his touch, proving Gideon’s claim that he preferred gentle. Or thought he did.

He did beg you to fondle his wings, she reminded herself, and that fondling had been anything but tender.

Still. He hadn’t wanted her to pierce her navel. What would he think when she actually did it? When she got a tattoo, as she also planned to do? Maybe of a butterfly. Would he no longer even want to kiss her?

“This conversation has officially depressed me,” she said. “Not that I didn’t enjoy talking with you. You gave me the details I begged for, and I’m grateful, but I think I’ll read to you now, if that’s okay. I need a distraction before I head to the kitchen and try out every bottle in the liquor cabinet.” That’s what many humans did when they were given news they didn’t like.

“Not like we can do both,” he said, and motioned to an array of bottles atop his dresser.

“Really?” Eager, Olivia pushed to her feet, crossed the room and swiped up as many of the fuller bottles as she could hold. The liquid swished inside, different scents drifting to her nose. Apples, pears, lemons. Dark spice. “Giggle juice is what I’ve always called it,” she said, “and I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Now’s not your chance. Don’t you dare pour any down my throat.”

“That would be my pleasure.” After tipping one bottle over Gideon’s lips while he gulped back mouthful after mouthful, then draining the rest of the contents herself and nearly choking—it didn’t taste as wonderful as she’d hoped—she reclaimed her seat and flipped open the book, unmindful of the page.

The words blurred slightly.

“‘She gripped her breasts and squeezed,’” she read. Interesting. “‘Just as he had done earlier. Her nipples throbbed all the more, wanting his hands. A whimper escaped her. Normally she would have hated herself for making such a sound, but now, this moment, she was owned by her passion.’”

I know the feeling, Olivia thought. Sadly, she might not know it again.

She started on another bottle.

AERON PUSHED HIS WAY INSIDE the fortress, his hands drawn into tight fists. He didn’t look around or head to the kitchen even though he was starved. He started pounding up the steps.

“Where’re you going?” Cameo asked, keeping pace beside him.

“To find Olivia.” To question her. He wouldn’t kiss her as he’d been craving these past few hours, thinking about her rather than searching for Nightmares. Worrying that he was becoming obsessed with her in the same way he’d once been obsessed with killing Danika.

Only, he didn’t want to kill Olivia.

He wanted to finally finish what they’d started in his bed. Yes, they’d both come, but he hadn’t sunk inside her. He hadn’t taken her all the way.

Still. He’d already soiled her, he’d decided, by spilling his seed on her belly. He’d already earned Lysander’s wrath. Not that he cared anymore. Not that the angel had come gunning for him yet. So what other harm could making love to her cause?

Just like that, his focus switched. Rather than question her when he found her, he’d strip her. There you go again. Thinking about her rather than taking care of business.

Didn’t help that his demon had yet to shut up. If he heard the word more one more time, he was going to erupt in a blood-craze all his own.

Concentrate. Question her. Yes. That’s what he’d do. No stripping her. Unless her clothes were too tight, then he would be doing her a favor, removing them and helping her breathe.

Concentrate, damn you. Question. Her. She’d predicted that he would be unable to find Shadow Girl. Nightmares. Scarlet. Whatever. And she’d been right. How had she known the girl would seemingly vanish without a trace?

Looked like he needed her, after all, he thought with a scowl. That didn’t mean he’d keep her, though. Definitely not. Strip her, however…

He punched the wall.

“Wow. You like her that much?” Cameo said, incredulous. “I mean, I know you’re fooling around with her, but I’ve never seen you this keyed up over a woman.”

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Fine. Don’t.”

“But if you insist…I don’t understand her and it’s driving me insane.” He rarely shared his problems with his friends. They had enough to deal with. But just then, he didn’t know what else to do. He needed help. Before he lost himself completely.

At the landing, he stopped and Cameo did the same. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “She’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before and want things I’ve never wanted before. Cronus has to be teaching me a lesson. That’s the only explanation for her effect on me.” No other woman had ever come close to tying him up like this. “I never should have dared the god king to send me a female I would chase. Except I’ve hardly had to chase her, so she can’t be the one Cronus sent to me. Gods, this makes no sense. Something has to be wrong with me.”

Cameo patted his shoulder, her expression understanding even through the misery etched there. She opened her mouth to respond, but an echoing feminine sob stopped her.

They shared a confused look before Aeron kicked back into motion. He recognized that rich, sexy timbre, even in its sadness, but the sound hadn’t come from his room, or the one next to it.

Masculine laughter abounded next, and he scowled. Gideon. Laughing. That should thrill him, with as much pain as Gideon had recently endured. Thrilled was not what he felt, however.

Aeron rushed around the corner and into his friend’s bedroom. There was Olivia, lying directly beside Gideon, her head buried in his shoulder as her body shook. Gideon, the insensitive prick, was still laughing.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, rushing forward. And no, it wasn’t jealousy pouring through his veins like fire. It was rage. Rage that Olivia was bothering his injured friend. Yes. Rage. At Olivia. He didn’t want to stab Gideon in the heart with one of his daggers. “Someone better explain before I do something we’ll all regret.”

Mine, his demon growled.

Better than “more,” he supposed.

“Aeron?” Olivia met his gaze briefly before turning her watery eyes away from him. She even reached up and wound her arms around Gideon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Her tears soaked his shirt, her body again shaking violently. “Oh, great. Now he’s angry.”

“If you hurt her…” Aeron snarled. Okay, fine. He wanted to stab Gideon.

He’d never purposely hurt one of his friends. Had he fought them? Yes. Bashing each other’s heads into walls was merely a healthy way of blowing off steam. But Sabin had once stabbed him in the back—literally—not to blow off steam but in real anger, and he’d vowed never to make his friends feel that kind of betrayal.

Now, though, he didn’t think he’d be able to help himself. And he wouldn’t be able to blame his demon, either. There were no vile images flashing through his mind, no desire to punish a sinner. There was just more of that blinding rage.

You don’t care about this woman. You’re getting rid of her at the first opportunity, he reminded himself, even as he scooped her up. Her sobs intensified, and she tried to hold on to Gideon.

Aeron shook her loose. “Gideon! Answer me. What happened? What did you do to her?”

“Everything. She’s just a very happy drunk.” Gideon gave him an unapologetic grin.

Pure, sweet Olivia drunk? Worse, someone other than Aeron had corrupted her?

Rage, yes. The dark emotion spread. Surprise, as well. And a jealousy he could no longer deny.

“Oh, Aeron,” Olivia said between gasping hiccups, finally deciding to seek comfort from him rather than his friend. “It’s so terrible. I have no wings and you’re determined to kick me into the streets, alone and desperate. Legion was so mean, and for a few minutes, I was angry. I’ve never been angry before. Not really. I didn’t like it. And I know so much and could help you more than you realize, but you don’t want my help. Maybe Lysander was right. Maybe I need to go home.”

He recalled how bloody she’d been when he’d found her, those wings freshly removed. He recalled how much pain she’d been in when Legion had bitten her. Guilt replaced every other emotion inside him. He should—Wait. Go home?

“You can go back?” he asked her, astonished.

“Mmm-hmm.” Sniff, sniff. “In fourteen…no, ten days. I’m losing count. You told me I was sick for three, right? But if I do return, I’ll be forced to kill you. That’s the only way they’ll welcome me back into their fold.”

So if she returned home, she’d still have to kill him. Or try to. He could live with that. Hopefully literally. She would be out of reach, away from his dark influence and hurtful urges, safe from harm.

“I can take care of myself, Olivia,” he said, and she burst into a fresh round of sobs.

“You shouldn’t always have to, Aeron. Someone needs to protect you the way you always protect others.”

This was how she would kill him, he mused. Through tears and kindness. Already there was a sharp pang in his chest. He’d always been the protector, the one to keep others safe. That someone else wanted to care for him was nearly irresistible. “Get some rest,” he told the still-grinning Gideon before striding out of the room.

That’s when he heard Wrath moaning in his head, as upset as Olivia was. Mine. Hurt. Better.

I’m doing my best. “I may not be able to fix anything you listed, but if you finally tell me what the demons did to you, I can make that better. Remember how?”

Olivia rubbed her forehead against his slightly stubbled jaw. “With a kiss.”

“Yes.” His grip tightened. Gods, he was a giver. “Tell me.”

Sniff, sniff. “No. I don’t want to.”

“Did you tell Gideon?”

“No.”

So. Even drunk, there was no chance she’d spill. He could have pushed, but didn’t. No more tears. Please, gods, no more tears.

Inside his bedroom, he eased her onto the mattress. She peered up at him, her eyeballs practically spinning. “Do you wanna have sex now?” she asked, then hiccupped. “I think I gave my panties to Gideon, so I’m good to go.”

“You gave your panties to Gideon? And he accepted them?” Incredulous, Aeron fought the urge to check under her skirt, then fought the even stronger urge to return to Gideon’s room and finally attack.

“I did, and he did. So are we going to do this or not?”

Sadly, he was tempted. Even with her swollen eyes and splotchy skin, she looked enchanting—and beddable. His body still craved her, and no one had ever needed comforting more. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone. But she deserved better than a drunken first time.

“Go to sleep, Olivia. In the morning—” at which point she—and he?—only had nine days before he ensured she returned home “—we have a lot to discuss.”