Hellion reached out and touched my forehead and the nausea eased, so I let my eyes open incrementally. The volatile queasiness passed and I took a deep, shaky breath.
“Thank you,” I breathed. There was little I hated more than puking.
“I suppose your physical reaction to my proposal is telling enough,” Hellion said softly, his disappointment hanging invisibly in the air between us. “I’ll not bring it up again.” He rolled over and laid on his back, eyes closed, fine lines etching his countenance and aging him perceptibly.
“I just can’t,” I whispered. “Not yet.”
“I’m not proposing we post banns and hire a priest, Maddy. I’m asking you to commit to me and wear my mark so the world knows you’re mine and, equally, that I’m yours.” His voice was low and soft, not angry like I’d expected. But anger would have been more welcome a reaction than the dejection I felt from him. The proud, arrogant, decisive man I was falling in love with was not the same insecure and rejected man who faced me now. Or maybe he was, and I’d brought him this low.
Bingo, I thought, and guilt took over where the nausea had left off. I wasn’t sure what to say or do to make this better, but I knew I had to do something. He’d told me in Ireland he’d only ask me once, and he’d broken that promise and asked me twice. It was telling for him to put himself out there, to make himself vulnerable, twice. I wouldn’t get a third opportunity.
I reached over and traced the edge of his jaw, ending at his ear, and I tugged. “Hellion?”
“Hmm.”
“Look at me. I need you to have this discussion with me face-to-face. I won’t allow either of us to hide from this, because we both have needs here.” I was almost shocked at the rational approach I was taking. I definitely hadn’t expected it of myself. Arm waving, tripping over my feet, and totally irrational was more my historical style.
With a great upheaval of the covers, he ended up lying on top of me, and I squeaked in alarm. “Close enough for you?” His voice was still low, but it was laced with a new menace that hadn’t been there before. He was working himself up to a self-righteous fit of temper.
“I imagine this will do.” I laid a trembling hand on his heart and felt it pounding traitorously, revealing his angst as equal to, and possibly greater than, mine. His building arousal twitched against my thigh and I sighed. Men. They’d get a cockstand over anything. And Hellion was definitely all man. He was horny enough that I imagine the daily stock reports gave him a hard-on.
He wiggled and pushed until he was lying between my thighs and was well situated to make the most of his condition, but I definitely wasn’t going to respond to being bullied.
“You’re making this into something it’s not supposed to be,” I said gently, pushing his hair back so it was out of his face.
“No, Maddy, that’s your job. You wanted a physical relationship with an option for love, and I gave you that. You professed you loved me. Time itself stood still, and I believed you. But it’s not enough to convince you. So I’ll make my point”—he pushed at my entrance—“however I believe you’ll see it. We’re meant, you and I, and damn if I’m not getting tired of trying to convince you.”
Just as quickly as he’d been about to slip inside me, he was gone, striding across the room to his closet. I heard him rustling about, and he came back out with a small, blue velvet box. His movements were slower, more contained, as he approached the bed. He knelt down on one knee, his erection an odd flagship before him. My stomach lurched and he spoke softly but urgently. “I hadn’t meant to ask again, truly, for I’d promised you I wouldn’t. But I saw this the night we walked to Black & Bleu and had Mark go back and purchase it. It’s yours, whether you choose to marry me or not, because I bought it as a gift, not a sentence.” He folded the lid open, and inside winked the most beautiful diamond and tanzanite ring I’d ever seen. The center stone was an asscher-cut diamond of highly respectable size, framed on either side by simple but brilliant tanzanite trillions. Set in white gold—or was it platinum?—the ring winked at me from its velvet nest.
Tears blurred my vision, and I felt such compassion and empathy for this proud man, kneeling naked on the floor in front of me. He had put himself out there a final time, willing to confess to all his intent to love me forever, and still I held back, despite what I knew to be true. I loved him. Looking down, several tears broke free and slid down my face to drip onto the duvet.
What the hell is wrong with you, Niteclif? my conscience demanded.
All I knew was that it was too soon after Bahlin’s rejection for me to make promises of forever again, no matter what I felt to be true. Maybe we could compromise. I cleared my throat and looked up.
Hellion looked heartbroken, and I reached out to touch his face. He shook his head and sat back on his heels, just out of my reach, the ring box hanging loosely in his grasp. Once again, he expected me to disappoint him.
“I have a proposal of my own,” I rasped, clearing my throat yet again. His eyes snapped up and I shook my head, holding out a hand. He took it tentatively. “I will accept your ring,” I said, and his eyes flashed to my face, “but, and this is a big but, Hellion. I’ll accept it as a symbol of my commitment to you, but not as an engagement ring. I’m not ready to take that step yet, and I think pushing me into it is the wrong way to start our married lives together, don’t you?” I held my breath, hoping he’d take my olive branch.
“I have no wish to tie you down, Madeleine Niteclif, only to love you as no woman has been loved before by man.” He leaned forward so he was on one knee. “Let me modify my proposal then. Madeleine Niteclif, will you wear this ring as a symbol of the promise we make to each other here and now, to love each other to the best of our abilities, individually and as a mated pair, to stay committed and true to each other in spite of the absence of a spoken vow, and as a means of letting the world know that you are my beloved?” He looked at me with such naked hope, and I knew this was the compromise I sought.
“I would be honored.” And while my response was almost entirely true, I inwardly flinched when I realized my right hand was still bandaged so my left hand was the only option.
Hellion, though, nearly blazed with triumph at the realization, and his large hands shook as with one hand he held my wrist while with the other he slid the ring on my ring finger. The band grew hot and heavy, but the feeling was fleeting. He looked up and grinned, and I was touched by the look of joy on his face.
I reached out a trembling hand and laid it against his cheek. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything. Just don’t ask me to take the ring off, please. That would hurt me.”
“The thought honestly never crossed my mind.” And it hadn’t. It was the putting it on at all that had given me pause. “No, what I’d like to ask is that you wear a ring, too. Because it’s always seemed a little sexist that the woman wears a token and the man still runs around and ‘looks’ free to other women.” I rolled my shoulders at the discomfort that lodged between my shoulder blades. “I know it’s sort of hypocritical—”
“I’d be so damned honored, Madeleine Niteclif,” he whispered, choked with emotion. He swallowed hard and I reached out to stroke his throat.
“Wait here.” I couldn’t believe I was about to do this. I went to my small jewelry pouch and dug through the little bit I had, and emerged with a titanium band. On legs that felt as firm as well-cooked pasta, I made my way back to the bed and sat on the edge. This is the strangest freaking way this could have happened, I thought to myself. My hands were shaking so hard Hellion had to take the band I held.
Grasping my good hand and rubbing the ring newly situated on my hand, he watched me with such openness that I followed my heart and leaned in to kiss him. He stood and leaned me back onto the bed, covering me with his body, kissing me with a newfound tenderness I’d never experienced from him. He lifted his head and smiled such an angelic smile, but it was countered by the fierce pulsing of his obsidian eyes.
“Will you wear my ring, Hellion? Will you let the world know we’ve taken the first steps in declaring out commitment to each other?” I asked in a tight voice.
“If it’s what you’d ask of me, I will.”
The ring was too small for his ring finger on either hand, so I slid it onto the pinky finger of his left hand, where it fit well. “When did you have the opportunity to buy a ring, Maddy?” he asked, and then froze, horror dawning on his face as his lips drew tight. “Please tell me this isn’t something you bought for Bahlin.”
The small remaining wound in my heart pulsed, and I squashed it. The dragon had no place in this room. “No! No, Hellion. The ring was my dad’s. It’s the only thing that I got back after the accident.” I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I began to gasp, trying to force air back into my lungs, and I panicked. I stood and began to pace the room, turning as I reached the bedroom door only to find that Hellion had followed me silently.
“Slow down, Maddy. I’ll take it off and we’ll find something else, okay?” He went to remove the ring, and I shook my head violently.
“No!” I wheezed. “No, Hellion. Keep it on. Please. I just had a flashback to the day the ring arrived. The police mailed the thing to me. The last piece of my father, and it arrived parcel post.” Tears raced down my cheeks but my breathing slowed. “Parcel post,” I whispered, “with no warning. I saved it, knowing someday I’d meet a man worthy of the most valuable personal possession I owned.”
If ever someone had looked shell-shocked, it was now. Hellion went down on one knee in front of me and, grasping my good left hand, made an impassioned speech in Gaelic. I caught the words forever, always, promise and a few others. He kissed my hand and stood.
“Come to me, Maddy. Let me take you to bed, muirnuín, and show you what it is to be loved. It will be the first day of the rest of our days.”
I walked into his open arms and he swept me up, carrying me to the bed where, for the very first time, I laid my ghosts to rest and made love to my intended.
We slept for six solid hours and would have likely slept longer if Mark hadn’t come to the door. Hellion stretched and called for the butler to enter. The young man entered as if hell’s hounds were on his heels, slamming the door behind him.
“What the blazes is your problem, Mark?” Hellion demanded as he took in the butler’s disheveled appearance.
“Sir, I—er, I—” he stammered, pulling at his shirt collar and rolling his shoulders around in the suit jacket he wore.
“Spit it out, Mark,” I said, sitting up. I felt the top of my head and was grateful to find it healing. Getting hair pulled out hurts.
“Bahlin’s here!” he said quickly and with something that sounded suspiciously like fear.
“What?” I demanded as Hellion exploded out of bed.
“I’ll kill that sorry son of a bitch,” he swore as he stormed across the floor, his erection once again an awkward flagship as he strode away from me and toward the stuttering coven-member-turned-house-servant.
“Hellion,” I called, terrified this was about to turn irrevocably violent. When he didn’t stop but had reached the door, I bellowed, “Hellion son of Markalon, stop!”
He stopped so hard he stumbled as he swung around to face me, his chest heaving and splotched an angry red. The blacks of his eyes had again eaten the white, and his hair whipped about. He was no less aroused, though I imagined it was something similar to what old reports say would happen to warriors headed into battle. Other heads got involved as the testosterone skyrocketed. Shaking my head, I turned to Mark and barked, “Out! Stand by the door and give me five minutes. If he comes out that door, you are going to stop him or so help me I will rain fury down on you, Mark.”
The little man nodded and scampered out of the room.
“How dare you interrupt me,” Hellion boomed, his chest heaving and muscles quivering. “He killed Amaly, and he came for you last night. You will not deny me my vengeance.”
“What did you just say to me?” I asked in a soft voice as I stalked closer to him, slowly advancing and circling him where he stood immobile. “Don’t you dare speak to me as if you’ll command me, Hellion. Don’t. You. Dare!” I spat as I came full circle around him.
“Tell me you’ll defend him again, Madeleine. Say it,” he hissed back at me, bending down and getting in my face. “Say it,” he bellowed.
A strange sense of self washed over me, and I was aware of every hair on my body as it went on alert, and every square inch of skin as it puckered not with cold but with power. Knowledge flowed over me, and the words I spoke were strangely mine but not my own. “The vengeance you seek so desperately is not yours to dispense, Hellion. No amount of rage and punishment will change the fact that Amaly is dead, and your best efforts failed to keep me safe.” I jerked like a marionette whose puppet master had sneezed before continuing. “You will allow me to do my job and I, not you but I”—I pounded my chest—“will render judgment. This is not the burden of your heritage. It’s mine. You will not attempt to take it from me—not now, not ever.” I sagged as whatever it was that had empowered me left, and Hellion let me stumble.
His eyes we flat black, and I knew he was at his most dangerous when they became fathomless like this. “So you’ll choose him again,” he said in a bitterly cold voice. “Don’t do this to me, Maddy. Don’t do this to us.”
“I don’t have enough evidence to convict him, Hellion. If I did, I’d take it straight to the Council. But there are holes in the logic, holes you made me see. I can’t let you go blowing in there to kill him. I’m not convinced it’s right.”
Hellion closed his eyes and the wind around him eased down. When he opened his eyes, the whites had returned, but they were still flat and his face was expressionless. He walked to the closet and I heard him dressing, and then I heard nothing at all. I waited until Mark knocked on the door, and I ran back to bed and jumped in, pulling the covers to my chin.
“Come in!” I called.
“It’s been almost ten minutes, madam,” Mark formally announced, his composure restored.
“Thanks. Hellion?” I called. “Come out here.”
There was no response save an echoing silence.
“Hellion?” Nothing. “Mark, hand me my robe and wait outside for a few seconds while I sort this out.” He tossed me the robe that lay across the foot bench and shut the door quietly behind him. “Hellion?” I called one last time as I walked to the closet. But I could call all I wanted to.
Hellion was gone.
Unsure what to do, I dressed and made my way downstairs to the parlor. Someone had set it to rights since Hellion’s impromptu flash grenade had been set off last night. The furniture had even been polished so the smell of burned flesh was overpowered by the tang of lemon oil. I nearly choked.
The slight sound I made had Bahlin turning to meet my gaze as I came into the small room. I held my breath and waited for the worst of the pain to subside, but it didn’t. It just hurt. I didn’t know how long it would be before I could look at him without wanting to claw my heart out of my chest to make the pain of betrayal feel less like a mortal wound. Apparently a handful of weeks, the divine word of Odin and two marriage proposals weren’t enough. Fabulous.
“Madeleine,” he said, inclining his head toward me as he held out a hand to shake.
“Council Leader,” I said in return, ignoring his gesture. I didn’t want to touch him.
“Fair enough. I’ve come, as promised, to help you solve these recent crimes.”
“Who’s Connell Darach?” I asked, and I was pleased when Bahlin paled. “I see you know him.”
“He’s an old family friend,” he answered smoothly.
Going out on a limb I said, “You shouldn’t lie, Bahlin. It’s not becoming.” I walked over to the sideboard and poured a stiff three fingers of whiskey neat and didn’t offer Bahlin a drop. He wouldn’t be staying. I looked over my shoulder and found Bahlin a couple of steps closer to me and watching me in a pre
datory way. “You’ll need to keep your distance, Glaaca. It would be a shame for the blue weyr to lose another leader so soon.” It was a vicious blow, but I wasn’t going to play games with him.
Bahlin reacted as if I’d slapped him, taking a full step back. “What in Grenla’s name has he done to you?” he asked. “You weren’t such a bitch when you left me.”
“I left you? Is that how you remember it?” I snorted in bitter amusement. “You need to lay off the gold dust, dragon boy. It’s going to your head.” I threw the whiskey back, grateful for the burn as it washed through my stomach.
“You had the opportunity to come home with me in Ireland and, as I recall, you threatened to kill me.” He quirked a brow at me, and my heartbeat sped up at the familiar gesture.
“Why have you come, Bahlin? It’s obviously not to help. You’re days late for that. So own up and then get out.”
He turned and walked to the bookshelf and perused the knickknacks of several lifetimes. “I’m amazed he let you come down by yourself. If you were mine, I wouldn’t have let you near him without me as a chaperone.” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I also wouldn’t allow you to be injured.”
A chill ran up my spine, and I felt like a pair of cold lips had been laid at the base of my skull. “What would you know about the injury?” I asked.
“Nothing other than you weren’t hurt when you were with me.”
I turned slowly and stared at him in disbelief. “I was shot when I was ‘with’ you, as you say, I got my ass thoroughly kicked, I was cursed, I died and then you broke my heart! In a matter of only a few weeks, Bahlin!” I bellowed the last, and Mark and Stearns came racing into the room. I waved them off and didn’t turn to see if they left. “Your track record isn’t spotless, Bay, so cool it.” The easy nickname I’d coined for him fell off my tongue before I could stop myself.
Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2 Page 28