I shake my head, desperate to clear my thoughts from sinking down into my first impulses.
Kill him.
Feel his warm blood splash down your arms.
Revel in his death.
It is hard to ignore those voices, telling me to do things that would likely affect Rue. I snarl instead, every muscle in my body humming, waiting to strike. “If you harm another hair on her head, I will gut you and bathe in your blood. That is a promise, Henrick.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “You are all talk. We shall see who ends up regretting this day, will we not?”
He takes another step back, glancing over his shoulder. The movement is slight, but I know now that he plans to get to the door that we came through. My bet is that he is only keeping Rue alive as a shield. She’s only valuable to him until he can run.
Ten to one, she dies when he gets to that door. Henrick licks his lips, looking behind me.
He smiles mockingly at Arsen. “Sorry to ruin your fun. You obviously had something amazing planned.”
Arsen steps up, coming even with me. His glare is deadly. “Let the girl go. Take my brother instead.”
That would be acceptable, I think. But no, Henrick is already shaking his head.
“I like things just as they are. Do you agree, Rue?”
He wrenches her arm again, so hard that there is an audible pop. I grimace, knowing that I should have killed him the second I laid eyes on him. If only I were not so wrapped up in the idea of vengeance, Rue would be safe in my arms right this second.
I will not miss my second chance.
Raising my gun, I fire it close to Henrick’s head. His eyes widen and he pulls his human shield all the closer.
“Are you out of your mind?” he hisses.
“Yes,” Arsen says, without missing a beat. “Not only is Dryas fucking insane, but Damen and I are completely unhinged too. Damen and I do not have a dog in the fight, either. We just like the chaos.”
He licks his lips in an exaggerated way, his eyes practically glowing with humor. Henrick sighs dramatically.
“If only I had exterminated Amabel and Rue when I first saw them. I killed all the rest of my siblings… but my father insisted that Rue and Amabel should be saved.” He pauses, then makes a distasteful expression. “They are proving to be worthless, even for broodmares.”
He shifts his stance, the knife leaving Rue’s throat for a second. Then there is a flash of movement. Rue’s arm arcs out, stabbing Henrick deeply in the throat.
The surprise in his eyes is everything I have ever hoped to see on his face right before he died. He drops his blade and clutches at his throat. A second later he gurgles and blood starts gushing from the wound. Rue must have hit an artery.
She lets the blade go and rushes toward me headlong, holding her arm at an odd angle. I catch her, still astonished as I watch Henrick bleed out.
He collapses to the floor. Amabel starts making distressed sounds and Damen corrals her against the wall.
I could not care less about Amabel, though. My protective instinct is telling me to worry solely about Rue. Whirling Rue away from Arsen, I hold up a beseeching hand.
“Not now,” I beg, looking at him with desperation written plain across my features. “Can you not see that she is already hurt?”
Damen speaks up. “And probably carrying his child.”
Surprise flickers across Arsen’s face. He shrugs.
“I was never going to hurt her. I was just here to teach you a lesson.”
Now I am the one who is surprised. “What?”
Crowding Rue behind me, I try to sort out what my brother is saying.
Arsen rolls his eyes. “I would not do anything to hurt either of you. After finding Fiore, I lost my taste for blood. All I wanted was to show you that you have things worth dying for, the same as me.”
My eye narrow. I look between Arsen and Damen. “This was planned?”
Arsen shrugs. “More or less. I did not think your girl would make such a showing, though.”
He nods to Henrick’s crumpled body. The pool on blood leaking from his neck has spread out several inches. It is growing much slower now.
“Ahh.” It is all I can say. Rue makes a small sound of pain, reminding me that I must get her to a doctor.
“Come on,” Damen says, grabbing Amabel by the waist. “The car is just outside.”
Scooping Rue up in my arms, I see the glassy-eyed signs of shock on her face as plain as day. “Hold on, Rue. We will get you to a doctor right away.”
She burrows her face against my collarbone, making my eyes tear up. Fuck, I almost lost her.
Never again. My days of being obsessed with avenging old ghosts have been laid to rest. I suck in a deep breath of Rue’s sweet smell, making a promise to myself.
Life is precious. I will spend every waking second of the timer I have left appreciating that
Appreciating her.
Things will be different.
Arsen and Damen are ahead of me and I have to hurry to catch up to them. As I carry Rue toward the exit, I repeat that to myself.
Things will be different.
I will be different.
I will be better.
26
Rue
Two months later
I lift a cardboard box full of Amabel’s things down from the moving truck. It isn’t particularly heavy, but it is sort of big and unwieldy. Carrying it across the yard, I notice that I am sweating. Not just a little bit, but a lot. And in weird places, too.
I guess that is the main difference between Liechtenstein and New Orleans. If the sun is out, it is hot here. And if it’s hot, I’m sweating.
Even when the shadow of our new two-story home falls over me, I’m still sweating. The humidity here is no joke, that’s for sure.
Hefting the box again, I make it up the steep front porch steps of the stubby looking house. It’s Spanish in style, with lovely balconies. The façade is a vivid shade of pink and there are lovely bright white cornices and wrought iron finishes. I have no doubt that Dryas dropped a pretty penny on it.
After all, we are supposed to be the new kings in this town. We’ve taken Arsen and Fiore’s place running the city. That was part of the peace deal that Dryas and Arsen brokered.
“What are you doing?” Dryas says, appearing in the doorway. He gives me an exasperated look as he takes the box from me. “Lifting things is bad for the baby. Come inside.”
He steps back, nodding into the doorway. I sigh and walk past him.
“That is just an old wives’ tale. Until I’m bigger, it’s not a problem. I asked the doctor.” Shooting a look back over my shoulder, I head into the empty kitchen.
Dryas follows, carrying the box into the room. He puts it down, sliding it against the wall. Then he reaches out and grabs me by the waist, leaning down to kiss me tenderly. I bloom under his touches, standing up on my tiptoes. My lips press against his, my fingers pulling at his shirt.
Already, I am drunk on the sensation of how he pushes his big body against mine, how he cups the back of my head so gently.
Part of me is sick of such careful caresses, but I know well enough that I’m not likely to get anything rougher until the baby has come. He sighs against my lips.
“I do not care what your doctor says. We have people that are coming to move the boxes. Just be patient and they will be here soon.”
He brushes my hair back and peers down at me. His yellow-green eyes look at me so patiently. My mouth twists, but I know he is right.
“Fine.” I don’t roll my eyes, but I want to. Glancing at the empty first floor, a thought occurs to me. “When are Ama and Damen getting here?”
Dryas glances at his watch. “They get in to the airport in about four hours.”
“And when are the movers going to be here?”
“I told them that we were going to arrive at night. It is still daytime, so…” He shrugs. “Eventually, is the answer to your question.”
He narrows his gaze at me. “Yes. Did you have something in mind?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Walking over to the marble counter of the kitchen island, I lean down and spread my hands out. My ass sticks up in the air, my blue cotton sundress hugging every curve. Looking back over my shoulder, I bite my lip. “Would you mind closing the door?”
“Let them see us,” Dryas utters, walking over to stand behind me. He runs his fingers over my ass, looking intense. “Please tell me you are not wearing anything beneath this dress.”
I grin as he rucks the dress up around my waist, baring me. Of course, I’m not wearing anything; I have been waiting for a moment like this for weeks, it feels like.
Spreading my legs, I know I’m drenched, ready for him.
“Take me,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Make me yours, Dryas.”
Dryas doesn’t speak. His clever fingers touch the bare skin of my ass, trailing down to my soaking wet pussy. He makes an animalistic sound then, a deep growling noise that fills me with anticipation.
He steps away. I hear his zipper drop. Then I feel his hands on my ass again. Gripping my hips, he positions me and then grabs his cock. Fisting it, he pushes against my entrance.
Already, my toes are curling up, my breasts growing tight. God, how I want this man. I will always want this man, forever.
When he enters me, I feel every hot, thick inch of his cock as he slides it into my pussy. Moaning, I stretch out across the countertop.
He sets a slow pace, but I won’t have that. I start to stretch back, meeting his every thrust. It’s been too long since he’s had me. I can tell that in the way he tries to slow down again.
“No!” I insist, pushing my ass backward. “Take me, right fucking now.”
Spurred on by my words, he slides a hand into my hair and starts to hammer himself into me. I love every second, love the way his cock fills me completely, again and again.
Feeling like I’m about to come, I pant into the countertop. “I love you Dryas. I love you!”
He comes at the perfect moment, thrusting into me with crushing force. He cries out as he pumps his hot cum into my willing pussy, his fingers tangling in my hair.
He kisses the back of my head before he straightens and tucks himself back into his pants. Turning me around, he mashes his face over my breast, listening to my heartbeat.
“I am sorry, little bird. Next time I will not be so fast.” His breathing is so fast. I put my hand over his heart, finding his heart beat irregular.
“It was perfect,” I say. “Just perfect. I needed that more than you know.”
He pulls back to look into my eyes. The passion, the absolute adoration I see in his jungle cat’s gaze takes my breath away. He leans down, kissing me gently. His hand comes up to rest on my stomach.
“I love you, Rue. I will love you for the rest of time.”
“All of it?” I say, smiling.
He kisses me again. “Every second of it.”
And I know he’s being sincere. There, in the heat of the afternoon, I kiss Dryas like there is no tomorrow. But we will have a thousand tomorrows, a million.
I’m sure of it.
THE END
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Olivia Ryann is the dark romance pen name of Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Amazon Top 20 Bestseller Vivian Wood. She loves poetic phrases and bits of melodic memories. She adores dominant, hard men and soft, fragile women with backbones made of steel. She wants to put them together as often as possible, in unconventional ways.
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Protect: Protect Book 4 Page 14