Their screams. Their beautiful, petrified screams had resonated with the worst part of him, and he’d thrilled in it. Excitement had coursed through him; bloodlust consumed him as one after another, he tore them away from the door and sank his fangs into their throats.
“Ronan was downstairs when it started. When he heard the screams, he broke into the room and pulled me off them, but the damage was done by then. Some weren’t as bad as the others, but a few were barely alive.
“When it happened, we were still the Defenders, but our members were different than what you would consider the original members. Ronan ordered them to clean up the mess and change their memories while the establishment owner gave his blood to the ones who needed it most. That’s the only reason any of them lived.
“I was a raving madman when Ronan and two other Defenders dragged me out of there. I was desperate to finish what I’d started and pissed they stopped me.”
He could still recall the sound of his teeth clacking together as he tried to bite Ronan and the others. The smell of the blood dripping down his chin only served to enflame his compulsion to go back and finish what he started.
He didn’t have to fight against his nature anymore; he was free. And if Ronan wouldn’t let him go to finish what he started, he could at least free him by putting him out of his misery. But Ronan didn’t do either of those things.
This was the source of some of the torment she’d seen in his eyes, she realized.
“I was a monster that night,” he said. “And I still am.”
No matter what he believed about himself, she was sure he was wrong.
“You’ve been defending innocents for centuries; you came to the woods to find us, and you followed me over the cliffs and into a waterfall. That isn’t the behavior of a monster; it’s the behavior of a good, yet imperfect man,” she said.
He sat and stared at her in disbelief. Why wouldn’t she see the truth of who he was? Maybe it was because she didn’t know it all yet.
“It happened seventy years after my father turned Savage,” he said.
“Your father became a Savage?”
“Yes. So, as you can see, it runs in my blood.”
“Declan,” she breathed as sorrow twisted her heart.
“I tried to take him out, and he nearly killed me in the process. If Ronan hadn’t intervened and destroyed him, I would have died.”
“Ronan killed your father?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”
Declan shrugged, but he could never forget the heartbreak and torture he experienced at his father’s hands. He would always recall his father’s laughter as he worked to either turn Declan too or kill him.
“It was difficult for Ronan too; they were good friends before it happened,” Declan said.
However, Ronan did what was necessary to destroy the enemy and save his life. Many times over the years, Ronan had saved his life, but that night in London and the night with his father were the turning points in his life.
“Nothing was ever the same after,” he said.
“You doubted yourself more because your father gave in to his Savage nature,” Willow guessed.
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t become a Savage.”
“I came close, too close.”
“But you didn’t become a Savage,” she reiterated. “You are not your father. Did he have a mate?”
“No.”
“And neither did you until now, but you still managed to keep fighting your Savage nature.”
“I gave in.”
“And you were fortunate to have a good friend close by to save you. We all have to rely on others sometimes. There isn’t a single person or vampire in this world who hasn’t needed someone else’s help. We all falter, Declan, what matters is you let your misstep make you stronger instead of allowing it to tear you apart.”
Declan tossed the uneaten lollipop into the trash as he contemplated her words.
“What happened after they took you out of that place?” she asked.
“I was still too far gone to have any control over myself, so Ronan locked me in the dungeon of the castle we lived in at the time. I tore at those bars in such a frenzy that I shredded the skin from my hands and mouth.”
“Your mouth?”
“I tried to chew through them.”
Holy shit. She couldn’t picture this usually calm, mellow man in such a frenzy, but he painted a pretty elaborate picture.
“During one of the times he came down to see if I had calmed down at all, I asked Ronan to kill me. He’d put my father down, and I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t give me the same mercy.”
Willow’s fingers curved around the ends of her chair; she was so grateful Ronan refrained from doing that, but she didn’t understand why. “Why not? I mean, you were unraveling and dangerous; why did he keep you alive?”
Running a hand through his hair, Declan tugged at the ends of it. “After a month in captivity, I finally felt stable enough to ask the same question. He told me he saw something in me worth saving.”
“He was right.”
“It wasn’t the whole truth. He also saved me because he felt guilty about killing my father.” And about what my father did to me. “He thought he owed me something.”
“He told you this?”
He’d prefer not to get into his ability right now and the guilt, anger, and sorrow Ronan experienced after the death of his father. This was a big enough thing to throw on her without adding more.
“No, but I believe it’s true.”
It probably was, Willow allowed, but… “He still wouldn’t have saved you if he didn’t think there was something worth saving.”
“Very true,” Declan agreed.
He didn’t tell her that Ronan also blamed himself for Declan’s fuckup. During his time behind those bars, Ronan once told him he should have found Declan and rescued him from his father sooner.
However, Declan knew the responsibility of what he did to those women lay solely on his shoulders. Ronan could have gotten to his father days earlier, and he still would have slipped.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“When I look back at my life before that night, I can see how it was all building toward a boiling point. There were too many women, too much death and killing, too much reveling in the pain others delivered to me, and too much blood. I was gorging myself on it all; it was only a matter of time before I crossed the line.”
And became like my father.
“He was right to save you,” Willow said.
“Perhaps,” Declan admitted.
For the first time in centuries, he actually agreed that he might be someone worth saving. He’d done a lot of good over the years, but every day he questioned if this was the day where he lost it and took an innocent life. And every night he went to bed grateful he hadn’t killed anyone. It was a miserable existence.
But if Ronan had killed him, then he wouldn’t be here, with her, and that made these last, lonely, tortuous centuries completely worth it.
“How long did you remain in captivity?” she asked.
“Five years,” he said.
“Five years? Ronan kept you locked up for five years?”
“No, he was willing to release me after I calmed down, but I kept myself in there for five years. He came to visit me every day and finally convinced me it was time to emerge.”
“Why did you choose to stay longer?”
“Have no doubt, if Ronan hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed every one of those women. Those five years were penance for the sins I committed. I deserved to be there.
“I also didn’t trust myself to be around people again. Until I believed that I wouldn’t try to slaughter the first human I saw, I stayed where I belonged. As time went on, I learned to control myself better, and Ronan finally convinced me I could do more good on the outside. He also assured me that if I killed anyone, he wouldn’t hesitate to
destroy me.”
“What did you do in there for five years?”
“I learned how to go without. Until then, I satisfied all my depravities without considering the consequences. I went through so many women, consumed so much blood, killed so many Savages, and reveled in the pain others inflicted on me. In that dungeon, I realized I lost control because I was already out of control.
“I learned how to meditate and started practicing yoga; I trained myself to use both those tools to ground me when my impulses became so incessant, I was sure they’d drive me insane. And gradually, over those years in the cell and every year since, I’ve maintained control.
“I can’t go without blood, but I haven’t fed on a human or vampire, until you, since then. Back in the early days, I relied on animals, but once the humans started bagging theirs, I started drinking their blood again too.”
“What about your need for pain, death, and sex?” she asked. “Did you return to seeking those things out?”
“It’s impossible to avoid pain and death as a member of the Alliance, but I stopped going out of my way to seek them out. Sometimes, after an especially intense fight, I have to lock myself away for a day or two until I calm down again, but I’ve learned how to channel my instincts into healthier means.
“And sex…” His mouth quirked into a smile as his gaze returned to hers. “Well, until you, it had been almost five hundred years since the last time I had sex.”
Willow’s breath exploded out of her. She almost shoved her jaw back up after it dropped, as it wouldn’t close on its own, but she was so shocked by this revelation that she couldn’t move.
Declan chuckled at her stunned expression.
“You’re kidding,” Willow said.
“No, I’m not. I was really good at keeping it a secret too.”
“Why?”
“Because it was my cross to bear and because I didn’t want to listen to any shit from the others. I was good at keeping it hidden too. I scoped out the babes and talked the talk.”
“You scoped out the babes?”
“No one as much as you,” he told her with a wink.
Willow rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny that he amused her.
“But, before you, it had been a really long time since I was with a woman.”
“That’s the understatement of the century. If it’s any consolation, you weren’t rusty at all.”
He laughed loudly, and when his head tilted to the side, his eyes sparkled in the sun. It was the most carefree she’d ever seen him look, and she loved seeing him relax a little.
“I planned for my celibacy to last a lot longer until you walked into my life,” he said. “I volunteered to go to Mexico because you tempted me so much that I feared losing control if I stayed around you.”
“You left because of me?”
“They needed me in Mexico, but I was also concerned I would hurt you.”
“You would never hurt me!” She hated his sad smile and the doubt in his eyes when he turned back to the window. “I’m your mate, Declan. You wouldn’t hurt your mate.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.”
“But you do now, and you still think you’ll hurt me.” It wasn’t a question; she could see that in his eyes. “What happened was years ago. You’re not the same man. Plus, if you attack me, I’ll kick your ass.”
He chuckled again. “Do you think you could take me?”
“I already have.”
“That you have.”
Her insides warmed at the sensual tone of his voice and the way his eyes roamed over her. “Did you ever plan to have sex again?” she asked.
“Only if I found my mate.”
There was so much about this man she didn’t know, but with knowing the mistakes of his past, she liked and admired him. He’d nearly turned into a Savage, but he’d regained control and fought that part of himself for years.
He refused to let himself sink into the madness and take the easy way out. Instead, he’d gone without the touch and comfort of another for five hundred years. She couldn’t imagine how lonely that must have been; how disheartening to believe he would never again know the tender, sensual touch of another if he didn’t find his mate. And there was always the possibility he might never find her. She suspected a part of him would always hate himself for what happened that night, but she never would.
“No wonder you were so insatiable this morning,” she said.
“I think that had more to do with you,” he said as his gaze roamed over her body.
“Oh, I have no doubt that a lot of it did,” she replied with a smile.
He smiled back at her, and then it slipped away. “I planned to tell you this before we had sex, so you would know what you were getting involved with, but…”
“But I wouldn’t let you.”
“I could have stopped what happened between us. I should have stopped it.”
“You tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen, and I’m glad I didn’t. I would have made the same choice. I wanted to have sex with you as badly as you did with me… well, maybe you wanted it a little bit more. You did have five hundred years of backup going on in there, but I’ve been dreaming and fantasizing about you since I first saw you. What happened between us was inevitable, and so worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Declan was torn between wanting to laugh and rising desire as her words caused his dick to stir. “There wasn’t five hundred years of backup.”
“Ah, so a little self-pleasure was allowed.”
“It was.”
“And did I ever cross your mind during those times?” she asked.
“You’ve been the star of the show since I first met you.”
She smiled as she leaned toward him. “I’ll tell you a little secret.”
“And what is that?”
“You’ve been the star of the show since I first met you too. Late at night, I’d think of you while I was lying in bed, running my hands down my breasts, over my belly, and between my thighs.”
Red flashed through his eyes as he licked his lips, and his eyes fell on her breasts. She was aware her hardened nipples were evident against the shirt, and while his eyes remained on them, she ran her fingers along the underside of her breast.
She relished in the growl he released. When he rose from the chair, her mouth went dry as she recalled his hands on her, his body against hers, and the way he possessed her so completely.
“Do you have any other secrets?” he asked as he prowled toward her. “Any things in your past you prefer to keep hidden?”
She was trying to remember how to breathe, let alone any memories, but if he wanted secrets, she would give them to him. “When I was twelve, I broke my brother Julian’s computer and blamed it on the dog. It was an accident, but I knew he would be pissed at me.”
“Is that all?” he inquired as he stopped before her, and she turned in the chair to face him.
He wasn’t touching her, but her skin tingled all over, and wetness spread between her thighs. When her gaze fell on his jeans, the swollen evidence of his erection almost made her whimper with need.
“At fifteen, my friend’s boyfriend kissed me, and I let it go on longer than I should have,” she said. “I couldn’t stand him.”
“Then why did you let it continue?”
“Because it was my first kiss.”
“And you were curious.”
“Very curious.”
She reached for him, but he caught her wrists and pulled them back until her hands rested against the back of the chair and he was leaning over her. His gaze burned into her as a fang glinted in the light.
“Just like you were curious about me and how I could make you feel,” he said.
She thrilled at his power and dominance over her body. She’d never given up control to anyone before, but she did with him.
“Yes,” she said. “And it was so worth it. No one has made me come as hard as you did.”
Decla
n couldn’t suppress a snarl at the reminder there were other men in her past. She could calm him so easily, but if those men were standing before him, he would kill them all without a second’s hesitation. However, it didn’t matter how many were before him; there would be no one after him, and there would be no one after her.
“What other secrets do you have, Willow?”
Though her hands remained pinned against the chair, she used the index finger of her right hand to wave him a little closer. When his head was only inches from hers, she turned and rested her mouth against his ear.
“I’m already wet for you,” she whispered.
His hands tightened on her wrists before his head turned, and his fiery eyes met hers. Willow’s breath sucked in as excitement and apprehension ran through her. Her toes curled in her boots as he stared at her before smiling.
“You do love to play with fire,” he murmured.
“I’m curious how hot it will burn.”
“You’re going to find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Declan kept her wrists pinned with one of his hands and released her with the other. She’d been expecting a passionate and fast taking like last night; instead, his fingers skimmed down her cheek to her chin and brushed against the front of her shirt.
Eager to feel his hands on her, she squirmed in the chair, but he didn’t touch her as he slowly unbuttoned the navy shirt she’d borrowed from Gretchen after escaping the attic. Willow followed his movements as he made his way steadily lower. When he freed the last button, he pulled apart the sides and leaned back to gaze at her.
One of her breasts still bore the bite mark he’d left on it last night. His hand rose toward it, but he didn’t touch her as his finger traced the air over the bite mark. Willow held her breath as she waited for him to caress her. However, his hand remained so close yet so far away in a frustrating manner that left her breathless for more while she resisted kicking him.
Why didn’t he touch her? She was desperate to feel his hands on her, desperate for him to put her out of this misery.
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