Page 99 of Brutal Birthright

Which Ri didn’t hesitate to resolve immediately.

There was no way she’d allow Rowan to paint himself as a monster.

“Don’t you dare.” She winced as her voice came out scratchy and hoarse. Ri swung herself out from beneath the tangled sheets. Crossing the room to him, she buried her face in his tattooed chest and wrapped her arms tight around his torso.

Every muscle in his body was taught and primed as if for battle. Beneath her ear, his heart thundered wildly, and his skin felt clammy to the touch. At least his wounds from yesterday had all fully healed, thanks to his magic, although she still felt certain she could see every inch of ragged skin if she closed her eyes.

Ignoring every growling protest and attempt to walk backwards out of her clutches, she latched on tight. Drawing him to her and holding steady.

His big palms pressed against her shoulders, trying to shove her away from him but, at the same time, unable to bring himself to be forceful with her.

“I’m—I can’t—” Mumbled words barely made it past his lips. She didn’t need to hear him say anything. When he came to and saw what he was doing, the look on his face had been one of sheer horror. Stricken and mouth gaping open as though he couldn’t suck air into his lungs either.

Rowan didn’t ever shake. The man wasn’t one to falter, but right now, she sensed he was teetering on the crumbling ledge.

“I trust you. You would never hurt me.” Ri kept her head firmly pressed against the spot where his heart hammered in panic. “You didn’t hurt me.” Her fingers dug into the muscled contours along his spine.

“Please.” The plea of a man who wanted to be released and held tight all in the same breath.

She knew the feeling.

“Come back to bed.” Ri gently tugged him as she walked backwards. Keeping her voice soft as she guided him over to the edge of the mattress and pulled him with her. His chest heaved like the flanks of a horse after bolting at full flight.

As she settled them both back under the covers, he watched her with wide, searching eyes. His gaze locked tight on the spot around her neck where there would no doubt be bruises soon, if not already blooming on her skin.

Ri took one of his big paws in her own and brought it up towards her throat. With a violent hiss, he tried to jerk his hand away. But she gripped hold of him tightly. Placing a kiss on the inked patterns of his knuckles and insisted he kept the connection with her warm flesh. Bringing his fingers up to brush over the skin and remind him she was still here.

“Feel that,” she murmured softly. Pressing his clenched fist against her pulse, ensuring the backs of his knuckles made contact with her skin as she cradled his big hand in her own. “That is still beating. I’m not harmed. You didn’t mean to touch me that way.”

His blue eyes flickered away. Something dark descended over his features, and his jaw pulsed.

“I would have fucking slaughtered you.” Gravel and remorse sat heavy in his tone.

“No. You wouldn’t have.” She slowly unfolded his fingers one by one and rested his calloused palm over the curve of her throat. Stroking across the back of his hand as she nuzzled into his touch.

“You should be running from me.” His gaze still refused to meet her own, but he paused on the sight of his hand lightly resting over the column of her neck. A deep frown knitted his brows as if he wanted to dissect his own touch, bone by bone.

“May I remind you that I don’t need a good man, brute.” Ri rested her palm against the side of his face. Watching on as the tension flickered there for a moment before softening almost imperceptibly into the contact. “I need you and your chaos and your faults, to match my own.” Whatever sliver of him she could hold tight to, she would with all her might.

It would have to be enough.

She shared Rowan with demons that haunted both his dreams and his waking hours.

Maybe she could find a way to help ease some of that burden.

They lay together in a soft cocoon of silence for a while. Allowing the soft shades of morning light to begin filtering in and turning the room from a cool, grey to the warm glow of sunrise. Ri quietly thanked every ancient deity that today was a day with no classes. Nowhere for either of them to be. No need to leave this little nest they’d formed if they didn’t want to.

A low rumble from somewhere deep inside his chest travelled through her palm. “It’s always the same. The dread of having to make a terrible decision. One that is beyond horrific.” His thumb stroked absently at the curve of her throat. “Battles that never end. Faceless enemies in a landscape painted in nothing but red dust and blood.”

Ri mirrored his movements, stroking the stubble on his jaw. Listening as she watched his mouth move and slowly unwind from whatever torturous grip his own mind had on him.

“I’ve had no choice for as long as I can remember. The scenario is always the same. And every time, I wonder why I agree to do it. What could possibly be powerful enough to make me see it through to the grisly end?” His eyelids dropped closed and squeezed tight for a moment. Relieving whatever horrors lay awaiting him each time he stepped into the realm of sleep.

“The Goddesses burdened me with the knowledge that I would be the one to end it all… but every day for centuries now, it has become clearer that it has to be at the price of my sister’s head.”

Ri’s chest tightened at his words. They sounded hollow and far away. Like he’d been wrung dry of all possible feelings—erased of any tenuous thread of lingering emotion—that could ever be attached to such a terrible idea.

“The worst of all… even more than knowing I voluntarily end my own sister’s life… is knowing that Brigid understands all of this. She sees everything. But my sister had not once said a word, and it eats at my very core.”

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