Page 41 of Willow and the Wraith

Focus, he commanded himself. This isn’t just another hunt. It’s everything.

He couldn’t risk a direct approach, terrified that Zalek would simply kill her. Instead he crept towards a neighboring structure, his movements fluid and silent despite his inner turmoil. He scaled the wall with practiced ease, pulling himself onto the roof. From there, he had a clear view of his target – a weathered warehouse with boarded doors.

He moved silently across the rooftop until he reached the edge. There was a wide gap between the buildings but in any other situation, he would have cleared it without a second thought. This time he was terrified, not for himself, but for what would happen to her if he failed.

He shook his head, banishing the hesitation, then leapt across the gap. His feet hit the roof and he rolled to absorb the impact and muffle the sound of his landing. There was no sign that his presence had been detected and he crept cautiously towards a grimy skylight, peering down into the gloom below.

He spotted the corner of a stretcher and a familiar foot and his heart constricted. There she was. Then Zalek came into view, circling her, and everything disappeared except a single, consuming thought - I have to save her.

I did save her, he reminded himself, his hands clenching on the ship’s controls. They were free of Radlin now. He should go to her.

Instead he remained paralyzed at the controls as the memories he’d been fighting so hard to avoid crashed down over him. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils, and suddenly he wasn’t on his ship anymore. He was a boy again, small and terrified, creeping through a burning building.

His mother’s face swam before him, bruised and bloodied. Her purple eyes, so like his own, wide with fear.

“Run,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. But he couldn’t leave her, not with those men still there, their cruel laughter echoing through the flames.

His chest constricted, each breath a struggle. He could feel the heat of the fire on his skin, hear the crackle of burning wood. The memory of his helplessness threatened to overwhelm him.

A gentle touch on his arm jolted him back to the present. Willow stood beside him, her hair damp, her face scrubbed clean.

“Wraith,” she said softly, “It’s all right. I’m safe.”

He stared at her, the nightmarish images still swirling in his mind.

“I should have been stronger,” he said, the words scraping against his raw throat. “I should have saved her.”

Understanding dawned in Willow’s eyes, followed by sorrow.

“I’m so sorry.”

He swallowed hard, trying to regain control, and she put her arms around him, holding him protectively. After everything she’d been through, she was the one trying to comfort him.

“I love you,” he blurted out, his voice rough. The words felt foreign on his tongue, but the truth of them settled into his bones.

She looked up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes as she gave him a radiant smile.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

The simple declaration made him feel like his chest might burst open from the sheer enormity of the feeling. Unable to find the words, he reached for her instead. As soon as their lips met, need roared through him, as hot and powerful as the flames that had surrounded them. He dragged her onto his lap, his mouth devouring hers, his tongue plunging past her lips to tangle with hers. She returned the kiss eagerly, her fingers threading through his hair and sending shivers of desire through him.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Yes.”

His cock throbbed an urgent rhythm and he barely retained enough control to hit the door control, sealing them into the cockpit, before his mouth descended over hers again, his hands seeking the small perfect mounds of her breasts. She gasped, rocking eagerly against his cock in response. The heat of her, even through her clothes and his, drove him wild. He fumbled with the top of her gown, desperate to bare her to his hungry gaze.

He pushed it down impatiently, revealing her taut pink-tipped breasts - and the line of small white bandages. He froze, horrified that he had momentarily forgotten her injuries.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, and he shuddered.

“I’m sorry. I did not consider your condition.”

“Condition?”

She followed his gaze and understanding dawned on her face. She took his hand and brought it back to her breast. His fingers flexed automatically, unable to resist that sweet temptation, and the stiff peak of her nipple pressed against his palm.

“I want you to touch me,” she said quietly. “I need to know that I’m safe and loved and that we’re together.”

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