Page 199 of The Sinner's Bargain

“Where’s Thoran?” I said instead, concerned he wasn’t there.

Malcolm arched an eyebrow, but gestured to my other side, lower near my feet at the dark head resting on folded arms, sleeping.

“That guy?” my brother teased. “I’d like an explanation for him, too. You got married?”

I had my own questions. So many, but I was so tired. All I could manage was, “I love him.”

He squeezed my fingers lightly. “I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t run him over with my car then yet.”

I tried to chuckle, but the sound was weak. “No, don’t. He means everything to me.”

“I thought that was me.” He grinned down at me.

“You can both mean everything. I can love you both.”

“In vastly different ways I hope,” he gasped, feigning horror.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. What are you doing here? What happened? How did you find me?”

Malcolm blew out a breath. “I have so much to tell you, but later. You should rest, and we’ll keep this chat between us. Something tells me your husband will not be pleased he missed you waking up. He hasn’t moved from your side in three days. Has been awake about that long.” He paused before adding, “you both need a bath. No offense.”

I made a grunt, but my eyelids were already sliding shut.

It was dark when I opened my eyes again, a different kind of feel had fallen over the room. A strange weight like nothing and everything was awake in the world outside my closed door.

My head turned to where I may have dreamed Malcolm sitting at some point. The way the lights had played in his golden halo of hair, he could have been a fevered dream. Why else would he be there?

He wasn’t.

My heart sank a split second before I saw him at the foot of the bed, arms folded over a black T-shirt, head back against the wall. Sleeping.

He was there.

He’d found me and he was there.

The hot prickle of tears burned my eyes. The machine beeped excitedly. Loudly.

“Blue?”

My head turned towards the window and the silent shadow I hadn’t noticed peering out into the night.

“Thoran.”

He was across the room in two strides. I tried to raise my arms, but they were full of lead, so I lay there as he gathered me up. My face turned into the soft growth of hair along his jaw.

“Fuck, Naya,” his hold tightened. His hand fisted in my lank, oily hair. “God, baby, you fucking scared ten years off my life.”

He breathed me in, and I closed my eyes. Tears trekked down my cheeks as the memory of that night in the basement with Oliver came roaring back.

“Oliver...”

“I know. I fucking know everything.” He pulled back to peer into my face. His was a mask of shadows and anguish. “I had no idea. I swear. I had ... I would never have allowed...”

I found the strength to lift my hand and touch his stubby cheek. “I know.”

He grabbed my hand and pressed his lips to the palm. His bristles tickled my skin. His eyes bright in the dark burned into mine.

“I’m burning the house to the ground. All of it. We can rebuild from the ashes or let it rot—”

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