a pickle?” he asked casually.
“I’d probably go with Mexican standoff,” she managed just as casually.
“Standoff implies both parties have the other in a precarious situation. With our current position, I’m not exactly feeling threatened.”
Heat radiated from him, enveloping her. And his scent...all that sandalwood and spice. All male. Her cells did that singing thing, her blood beginning to boil with desire.
I’m so sorry, Mari.
Must gain control.
“Let’s see if I can do something to alter your perspective.” She flashed behind him—nope. She remained in place. Why—realization crystalized suddenly. The brimstone! As long as it was embedded in his skin and he maintained a grip on her, she would be powerless against him...against everything.
Powerless...helpless. Flickers of panic, burning her chest.
Can’t be helpless. Not again.
She kicked her leg, her heel slamming into his backside.
“Be still,” he commanded.
Helpless...so helpless...soon imprisoned. Left in the dark, forced to eat the scourge of the earth, rotting in my own filth, dirty so dirty, hungry so hungry. Forgotten. No, no, no!
She bucked and she kicked and she flailed. Snowflakes poured from the sky, piling around them.
He tightened his hold. “Keeley. Stop.”
Have to get free. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder as he further tightened his hold, she fought her way to her back. Then he released her—yes!—but only long enough to grab both of her wrists and pin them over her head.
Snowflakes in his lashes, on his skin...on hers. Cold, so very cold. Helpless.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He bared his teeth, his scowl menacing...almost desperate. “Want to do things to you... Trying not to think about them... Not succeeding. Be still. Please, be still.”
“Let me go.” A plea formed, but she swallowed it back. She’d once begged Hades for her freedom, and he’d laughed at her. She wouldn’t give Torin the same opportunity. “Let me go!”
“Not until we’ve come to some sort of arrangement.”
She continued to struggle, gained no new ground. So helpless!
She couldn’t breathe, had to breathe. She wiggled her hips, bucked some more. When she attempted to wedge one of her legs between them and place her bare foot against his bare chest, he wrenched away just before contact.
Finally free.
She lay on the hard ground, sucking in precious air. “Th-thank you.”
He moved over her again, but this time he didn’t hold her down. Didn’t touch her in any way, so she didn’t fight him. He simply shielded her from the onslaught of snow, his features dark with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Strange question, coming from him.
Her heartbeat slowed, though her limbs grew heavier with every second that passed. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
Torin looked up at the sky, then down at her. The sky, her. He nodded, as if he’d just unraveled a mystery, and made to move away from her.
“Don’t,” she said, surprising herself. I want him closer? “I...need your warmth.” Truth. In part. She craved the connection to another living creature...to him. It had been so long.
He remained in place. His gaze locked with hers, and it was both torturous and rapturous. Without the panic, her desire for him—for sensation—had no filter, becoming a driving force she couldn’t deny.
Don’t do this.
Must. “Is the woman you’ve been staying with your lover?” she asked.
He blinked down at her. “Woman? Oh. You mean Winter. No.”
I am...relieved?
Maybe. His condition was a hard sell for any female, true, but Keeley wasn’t any female. She could have him.
But why would I want him? I hate him. Even still the urge to reach up and trace her fingertips along the ridges of his chest bombarded her...so she did it, she reached. I’m far too strong to sicken.
She paused midway to gauge his reaction.
His jaw clenched tightly. “Don’t,” he croaked, but he remained in place, as if he wanted her to do it—needed her to. “I mean it. Don’t.”
“You’ll thank me.” Truly, his demon would be no match for her. Who would? In a class by myself.
She reached the rest of the way and flattened her palm just over his heart. Skin-to-skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away. Hissed, but also moaned. As if the sudden connection between them was equal parts pain and bliss. Hell and heaven.
“Keeley.” A rasp of demand...and necessity.
Asking me for more. Has to be.
He was hot enough to burn, soft as silk yet hard as steel, and nothing had ever felt this good. A simple touch has felled me.
“You are...” Everything I’ve ever wanted or needed or hoped would be possible. She traced her fingertips along his collarbone, up his neck...to his lips. They parted and she took advantage, pressing in to feel the moist heat inside his mouth.
He sucked, hard, and she moaned. The sound jolted him out of whatever magical haze had been woven. He reared back, horror radiating from him. The same kind of horror the villagers had once cast at her.
“Torin?” Give me more.
“Keeley.” He shook his head, rubbed his chest, as if he could still feel her. “You shouldn’t have touched me. I shouldn’t have let you. Even if you live through the infection, which you probably won’t, you’ll be immune to it but still able to spread it. The very reason I’ll have to kill you, despite your recovery.”
MY FAULT.
The words echoed in Torin’s mind as he built a fire, and it was like taking fists to the chest. Keeley sat on the ground, watching his every move. He knew, because he could feel the hot ping of her gaze drilling holes in his back. Since “the Incident,” she hadn’t attempted to fight him. She’d gone still, quiet.
Soon she would sicken. Just like all the others. And he would curse his very existence.
He
