by Lizzy Ford
She understood too well what it was to be in that stage. Zoey released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and wiped away tears burning down her cheeks. The charged tension stretched between them, pulling at her, making her want to abandon any second thought, fear or doubt about him and fling herself into his arms. The human side of her, her heart, couldn’t bear the thought of tumbling back into his bed when it still lay in pieces.
“You’re not ready,” he said at last, his hazel eyes holding her gaze.
“I’m sorry, Declan, but I’m not.” The hoarse words took effort when her body was screaming for him.
“Don’t apologize.”
She tried to read his face with no luck. Was he going to walk away from her? How did she want the door between them to remain open when she was clearly rejecting him?
“I have to go,” she said and started towards the door.
He said nothing, until she reached it. “Zoey, wait.”
She paused with her hand on the doorknob once more. Her heart somersaulted while more emotions bubbled closer to the surface. She was caught somewhere between fury and sorrow, helplessness and the urge to kill every Cambion in the world. There was nothing she could think of that he might be able to say to her in this moment to take away her pain, and yet, she willed him to say something, to show her there was potential for them beyond sex.
The heat of his lean frame at her back reached her. His hand covered hers.
She closed her eyes, shivering. Their souls were always connected even when their hearts stood so far apart from one another.
“Please,” he added softly. “Just wait.”
Zoey did. His breathing had quickened, his tone taking on a sense of urgency she hadn’t heard from him. If she turned, she suspected she’d find him struggling with the same emotions that nearly consumed her.
“An incubus fucks. An Enforcer deals with facts and truth,” he began in the same raw whisper. “Zoey, I don’t know what to do but I can’t lose you.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, unwanted tears threatening to overwhelm her.
“Please don’t go,” he added. “I won’t touch or talk to you if you don’t want me to.”
“There are whole … weeks when I don’t understand you,” she said in a strangled whisper. “Who the fuck are you, Declan? How do you add me to your bank account one day and then issue a warrant for my arrest the next?”
“Our relationship has always been complicated,” he said with bitter humor. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you even if I push you away doing it. Duty is clear cut but what I feel …” He drifted off and drew a deep breath. “I don’t have a fucking clue how to love you, protect you and be with you.”
She listened, affected by his explanation at a primal level. “You have to figure it out, Declan. I kill shit. I don’t plan and I definitely don’t do politics.”
“I will. In the meantime, I need … I’m begging you to stay with me tonight and share what little of you that you’re willing to give me. At sunrise, you can declare war on me again.”
Zoey wiped her cheeks. There was no way for her to turn down the request, not when her heart ached so much for him. “I want you to tell me everything about being drugged and sleeping around.”
He hesitated. “Very well.”
Zoey lowered her hand from the doorknob, aware she was too close to the edge for this night to end without her sobbing. She faced him, the uncertainty and emotion on his face hitting her hard. She hadn’t wanted to think about what he was going through, unable to deal with the idea of two of them hurting. His own pain was clear.
Declan took a step back once more to give her space. He held out his hand. “You okay to cuddle?” he asked.
She took his hand. Together they walked towards his bedroom. Declan left her at the door and changed in the walk-in closet, emerging in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.
Zoey sat on the bed, took off her shoes but nothing else. Her eyes instinctively went to his substantial erection and she looked away, recalling too well how incredible it was to have him inside her.
“Can’t do anything about that,” he said dryly, catching her look. “I promise to keep him contained.”
“I didn’t think an incubus had any sense of control.”
“Every once in awhile, something more important than sex comes along.” Declan lit a candle in the window above the bed, flipped off the lights and lay down on his side. “C’mere.” He held out one arm.
She hesitated.
“I promise, my little Zoey. You call the shots.” He held her gaze, his features warm and the outline of his sculpted frame in the flickering light of the candle a little too inviting for her to remain in place.
She crawled across the bed to him and settled on her side, back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his body, his hard erection pressed to her bottom. Sliding one arm beneath her neck, he tucked his knees until his thighs met hers and then sighed.
The tension of her body unfolded as it recognized where it belonged. Wrapped in Declan’s warmth and strength, she closed her eyes, comforted by the sensation of his bicep against her cheek and the strong arm wrapped around her midsection. She had always felt safe with him and still did, despite the roiling emotions rattling through her head.
“Olivia drugged me through my water bottle of all things,” Declan started. “With Paul’s help.” His low, husky voice rumbled in his chest, pressed against her back.
Zoey listened with apprehension as he explained everything that happened, from the way the women’s appearances changed to the strange sense he had that something was wrong with the soul connection he shared only with her. He spoke quietly and with little emotion, except for the tremor that entered his voice when he told her about the day he found out what he had been doing.
It was then her tears began.
Chapter Eighteen: Hopeful
Telling his soul-mate how he fucked her over was the hardest thing Declan had ever done. He left nothing out and stopped after telling her about being discovered by Vikki. Emotion made his throat too tight for him to continue.
Zoey’s small frame shook in his arms, and she had face planted in a pillow, sobbing. Her pain was fresh, carried across their bond and magnified by direct physical contact, the flimsy callous she’d tried to build disintegrating after hearing his story.
He held her, listening to her cry without knowing how to help. Declan buried his face in her hair, enjoying the scent and heat of her once more. She’d given him a chance to tell his story, and he had no idea if it was a good thing or not. Her emotions were too deep and raw for him to interpret what her eventual reaction would be.
But he sensed it was the first step, if she was willing to walk down the path to reconciling with him. He had never needed to know how to have a real relationship; incubuses had no problem luring women in for sex. What happened next, how to rebuild trust and navigate the world that was growing more complicated around them, left him reeling. She was wanted by his society for crimes she’d been brainwashed into committing. If not for the video evidence and the absolute foolproof frame job, he’d be able to try to build a relationship with her without worrying every second he was with her who might see them.
Instead, he was forced to hunt her down with the directive of turning her over to his Council.
Declan hadn’t yet decided how to handle the issue and suspected that tonight at least, it was the last thing he needed to be concerned about.
He hugged her closer and reined in his own emotions, hating the pain he was causing her anew. Zoey calmed after half an hour, breathing hard and exhausted, pliant in his arms. Not at all certain if he should speak or give her time to digest, he decided to remain quiet and enjoy the way she fit against him and mesmerized his senses in a way no other woman ever had.
“It hurts,” Zoey said finally in a strained voice.
“I know,” he replied, tightening his grip around her. “You can hate me as long
as you need to, Zoey.”
“I can’t hate you. I tried so hard. I can’t hate you. I don’t know if I can love you either.”
He almost smiled, touched by her brutal honesty. Caught in a political job where lying and deception became second nature, he had almost forgotten how refreshing her candidness was. His Zoey would never lie to him; she deserved so much more than being fucked over the way she was.
“I accept that,” he replied. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you and never will. One day, you may be able to trust me again.”
“I hope so.” The yearning in her voice was deep. “I know you’re helping me where you can. I’m also pretty sure you’ll drag me in if we cross paths during daylight.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “But I’ll let you out at night under personal supervision.”
“You’re assuming your people won’t kill me.” She sighed. “Declan, we can’t have an us with things going the way they are.”
“Hush. You’re the Hunter, remember? Let me figure this out.” He planted a chaste kiss on her temple, their moment growing more tender as she took one of his hands and squeezed it.
“You can come with me,” Zoey whispered. “Leave the Incubatti.”
The fear he held that she may never forgive him abated a little more. “I can’t run interference that way,” he replied gently.
“You wouldn’t have to if your father got rid of the Cambions like you all were planning.”
He entertained a similar train of thought about his father’s plan. The noose around Zoey was tightening; if there was no dramatic revelation that Olivia was behind everything, Zoey would soon be caught in a position even she wasn’t able to escape.
“Let me handle it,” he repeated. “You focus on not getting caught during daylight.”
“You couldn’t catch me.”
He chuckled, relieved to hear her defiance return. They lay together in silence, the sweetness of the moment not lost on him. It was not as pleasurable as sex, but the emotional openness gave the time with her an intimacy he’d never experienced before. She was hurt – but trying to trust him. Only Zoey could be so good of a person. He didn’t want to let her go again, ever, and knew he had to all too soon.
“Get some sleep,” he whispered and pressed his lips to the soft skin of her warm cheek.
“I’m not tired.”
“You’re exhausted,” he responded. “I can feel it.”
She sighed.
Declan released a trickle of his magic into her and watched her eyes drift closed. He waited for her breathing to deepen, indicating she was asleep, before he rose and quickly changed. Leaving her alone in the room, he locked the door and strode down the hallway to the elevator.
The apartment had a small medical lab in one of the sub-basements, and he hoped it had the samples she needed. He hadn’t pursued when he picked up the thought about her having three weeks, but he would. If something was wrong with her that he could fix with the glands of an incubus, he’d chop off as many heads as she needed.
Declan descended to the basement and went to the closed medical lab. His access card gave him the ability to go anywhere, and he slipped into the lab. The soft lighting of medicine, chemical and storage cabinets guided him around the islands in the center to the cabinet he sought. He opened the door to it and sorted through the bottles inside, seeking the two she needed. There were several bottles of toxin and a dozen of antitoxin. He grabbed one of each and pocketed them, secured the cabinet and left the lab.
Zoey was sound asleep when he returned to the penthouse. He placed the bottles beside her weapons before returning to the bed. Declan’s body relaxed of its own accord the moment he touched her. He ran his hand up her arm and to her neck, fingertips brushing the delicate skin beneath her ears. He’d explored her body many times before without being able to quell his fascination with the woman made just for him.
Reluctantly, he glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand on the bed. “Zoey.” He wrapped his arm around her and pressed his erection to her ass one last time, his tongue flickering out to taste her skin. “You’ve got about twenty five minutes before daylight, and I start hunting you down.”
Zoey stirred in his arms with a dissatisfied groan.
“C’mon, kitten. I’m giving you a head start,” he teased.
“I only need sixty seconds,” she retorted sleepily. Zoey twisted onto her back and propped her torso up on her elbows. Her gorgeous blue eyes were red rimmed, her hair mussed and expression retaining a shimmer of vulnerability he found too appealing. It made him want to strip her down and fuck her for days, until she smiled at him the way she once had. “You’re gonna need a cold shower.”
He nudged his erection against her hip in response, pleased by the flare of desire and awareness in her gaze.
“Before I go … swear you didn’t knowingly cheat on me,” she said, raw emotion flickering across her features once more.
“I didn’t, Zoey. I never will,” he replied instantly. “I swear it on my soul.”
She studied him hard, searching his face for any sign of deception. “This is gonna take a while, Declan.”
“I know. The thought of waiting doesn’t scare me. Losing you does.”
“God, I want to hate you!”
Unable to resist, he reached out to cup her cheek in one hand and brushed away warm tears with his thumb. “You are the most beautiful when you’re pissed at me.”
“I’m glad you think so, because I plan on being pissed at you for a very long time.”
He smiled, loving the spirit of his soul-mate. “Get going, before I drag out the handcuffs.”
Her mouth dropped open. Speechless, she stared at him, face flushing with desire.
Declan laughed at her dumbfounded expression.
“You are such an asshole,” she managed breathlessly. “But you can kiss me. One farewell kiss and no guarantee I’m coming back to-”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. Declan claimed her warm, soft lips with his, pushing her back onto the bed and opening the connection between them wider, so she experienced every tiny sensation with more intensity. His hot magic melted her tension, and he deepened his kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips to taste her. Her flavor was like her scent: a drug he wanted more of, one that set his blood on fire and banished any other thought than to experience her in every way possible.
Zoey groaned beneath him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her knees parted for him to slide between her thighs, and he pressed his erection against the mound of her pussy, relishing her firm curves and responsiveness. He let more of his magic loose into her, well aware of what the sex energy did to someone as sensitive to it as Zoey was.
She arched beneath him, her perfect frame as tight as a rubber band about to snap. He kissed, licked and nipped her mouth and lips hungrily, and she responded with desperation that revealed how much she tried to hide her desire.
“Declan!” she moaned, breaking off from the kiss.
Her body shuddered and bucked with the intensity of the sexless orgasm caused by his magic, her eyes closed and expression one of sheer pleasure.
Declan buried his face into the nape of her neck to keep from doing what he wanted to, hating the fact there were boundaries between them. He pressed her to the bed, absorbing every part of the experience he could, from the sound of her sighs to the scent of her arousal and the way her frame rippled and moved against his. Zoey trembled, one of her hands swiping through his hair while the other clutched at his back.
“I said … just a kiss!” she gasped.
“That’s all I did,” he replied, amused. Lifting his head, he gazed down at her flushed features and into her glowing eyes.
She wet her lips, and his focus dropped to her plump lips.
“When you’re ready for more, I’ll make sure you always have a reason to return to my bed,” he added, kissing her lightly once more. “I want you to trust me again, Zoey.”
Tears brimmed in
her eyes once more, along with the fear he despised seeing, because he knew he caused it by hurting her.
Knowing her resistance was in a puddle, he did the second hardest thing in his life and pushed himself off his soul-mate, sitting back on his heels. “You better go. Fifteen minutes until I flip the switch and turn into the big bad Enforcer out to make your life hell.”
Already he felt the loss of her warmth, the narrowing of their connection, and yearned for her.
She swallowed hard and sat, holding his gaze for a long moment. He waited for her to speak. In the end, she didn’t and rose, crossing to the doorway. Declan’s gaze strayed to the feminine shape of her hips and ass, admiring the way she naturally sashayed. He twitched with the need to bury himself deep into her and soothe the sex-fueled rage building within him.
He trailed her through the foyer to the entrance of his penthouse. Zoey fumbled to replace her weapons, rattled by the intensity of her climax, but finally had them all in place. She snagged the broken armband and stopped, fingers lingering over the two bottles.
“Purified toxin and antitoxin,” he supplied. “Easier than bringing you a head.”
She picked them up carefully, one by one, and placed them into pockets. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“I’ll put it on your tab.”
“You are such an ass!” She faced him, eyeing him with the defiance that made his blood boil. “Tonight was strike one, not that you remotely deserve it.”
Declan smiled and tilted his head, intrigue unraveling at the familiar words used during the three nights of the soul binding rite they’d gone through. “Thirteen minutes and ten seconds,” he warned her. “When you come back, we’re discussing this three weeks issue you keep thinking about.”
“Fuck you, Declan!” Zoey spun and wrenched the door open, stepping into the hallway. Before she’d made it five steps away from his penthouse, she disappeared completely from his senses, a sign she’d arrived with a backup band.
He locked the door behind her and leaned against it, his forehead resting on the cool wood. He felt lighter inside, hopeful where he’d seen only despair before, relieved to know she was damaged but willing to forgive him.