Page 128 of Scourged

Those words.

Her rage slipped away, dark memories retreating to the hidden corners where they belonged. All that remained was that burning, insatiable heat, an unquenchable desire blending across a bridge of shadow and ice. A demanding pull from a neglected bond made from necessity but screaming for release and acknowledgment.

“I am trying. To forgive you.” Her voice broke, and she sagged where she stood. “I know … I know it wasn’t you.”

His relief was palpable, a physical thing that snapped in the air. He surged further, closing the distance between them.

And halted when she shrunk away, back meeting the wall behind her.

“You can’t touch me,” she said in a rush. She took a steadying breath. “I’m not ready for you to touch me.”

His chest heaved as he slowly tilted his head. “You are trying to forgive me … but you still don’t trust me.” Not a question. He could read the fear, the hesitation in her eyes, could read between her words.

Mariah nodded.

He growled, low and deep in his chest. It was a sound of frustration, and it vibrated down their bond. But he took a step back, until he hit the small dining table in the center of the room. Leaned himself on it, hands braced behind him.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he reopened them, he smiled.

“Okay,” he drawled, the words like honey on his lips. “Then if I can’t touch you … canyoutouch you?”

The world stood still.

Then everything moved again, blood and wind rushing past her ears. Heat sparked and crackled in her veins, settling low in her core, crawling lower until there was an ache that almost had her whimpering against the wall. Their bond danced so bright she swore she could see it there, stretching between them.

Andrian’s forearms tensed, jaw working as his throat bobbed. “An answer, princess. I need an answer.”

“Yes,” she croaked. “Yes, gods. I can … I can touch me.”

“Good girl.” He almost whispered the words, standing up from the table, straightening his spine as he fixed her with alook. A hungry look. Adevouringlook.

“I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either.” His voice was like smoke and shadow. “I promise I won’t touch you. Not again, not unless you want me to. But you have to agree to do something for me.”

She swallowed, shifting on her feet against the wall. “What?”

His grin shifted into something dark and feral. “For tonight, your hand is mine. For tonight, wherever I say you go, you go. Whatever I say you do, you do. You keep your ability to stop, to walk away, but if you give me just a sliver of trust …” He pushed from the table, walking not to her but to the still-open door. He stopped beside her, grabbing the handle, his scent wrapping around her like something dark and dangerous.

Probably an accurate instinct. Everything about this was dangerous. She could feel it in her bones, but she couldn’t turn away. Their bond thrummed between them, the energy ancient and wild and unleashed.

“If you give me that sliver, I will give you everything you need. All you have to do is say yes.”

They watched each other, hearts pounding, beating in rhythm, though neither knew it. After what felt like an agonizing eternity, Mariah nodded.

The look that crossed his face sent a fresh wave of heat through her veins.

He closed the door with a snick before locking her with a stare. Everything about him was commanding and dangerous and, despite the conflict raging through her, exactly what she needed.

“Go stand beside the bed.”

At first, her instincts had her resisting the command. Pushing back against the authority woven into his words, she shot him a glare.

Andrian only lifted a brow, the side of his mouth quirking up.

Her nostrils flared, but she straightened her shoulders, shifting on her feet. With every drop of seduction and bravado she could muster, she pushed off the wall and swayed across the room. She still lacked her curves, that soft firmness she’d loved so much, but she was still her.

And even after everything … likefuckwould she forget that.

When she reached the bed, glancing once at the dark, twisted sheets, she whirled to face him. He’d taken a few steps forward, moving back to the dining table in the middle of the room. With a movement that tightened her chest, her thighs pressing tighter together, he snagged a chair and swung it around, settling onto it with a lazy grace. He sprawled out, legs spread wide, resting a hand on the table. He was still several feet from her, but the way he watched her made her feel as if he wasrightthere.

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