Page 161 of The Harbinger

The fact was, I’d waited until he was there with me. Despite his anger towards me, I’d wanted his soothing comfort when I’d bandaged it. And let’s not mention how he was the one who needed to call the doctor for stitches. I was at his mercy after all, and when he didn’t come back to care for me, it made me cling to him even more so.

Maybe he needed to know how much I needed him. “Sacha, I—”

“Get in the shower.”

His clipped tone shut down any thought of opening up. Maybe now wasn’t the time.

He guided me with a confident hand into his luxurious shower, its spacious interior boasting three shower heads: two anchored on the wall, each with its own digital temperature control, and one suspended from the ceiling. Once I had crossed the threshold, he pressed a button, and the farthest shower head came to life with a sputter, steam billowing from it as if it had been waiting for us all along.

My knees trembled and threatened to give way as I stepped into the shower. My breath caught in my throat at the sensation of the water pounding on my shoulders and cascading down my body. Thick tendrils of steam enveloped us, leaving a fine mist on his skin as he approached, his hands encircling my waist with a gentle touch.

He stood before me, his tattoos never failing to unsettle me. It was a constant reminder that his dark gods followed no matter where he went, their influence seeping into his thoughts and warping his judgment. Those twisted symbols etched upon his chest were an ever-present stain on his soul.

My gaze drifted to my brand, the skin creating a red halo around the white dead flesh clinging to my body.

His promise to me that I was safe.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, looking back on the time when he shucked off my touch when we’d first met, and relished the sensation of me tucked into him now.

Shivers rippled up my spine as his fingers trailed upward, his feet walking me back into the warm tile wall.

“It’s heated,” he said as I scrunched my face in confusion.

“A heated shower wall?”

“And floor.”

“What about the ceiling?” A smile tipped my lips.

“Unless I’ve developed a talent from the Exorcist, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

I laughed as his hands moved over my body, one settling on my hip, the other braced on the wall next to my head.

“What am I going to do with you?” His low tone set my heart cantering at an uncontrolled pace.

“Keep me?”

“Hmm.” His hand left my hip as he tapped the brand on my shoulder. “That’s already been decided.”

My cheeks burned, and a warmth settled in my chest, butterflies igniting in my belly. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, his gaze never leaving mine, then snapped open the lid with his thumb. A heavy, thick blob landed on my crown, causing me to raise my sore shoulders on instinct. The liquid rushed to my forehead as he put the bottle back, and I reached for it in a panic, but he slapped them away.

Getting soap in the eyes hurt like hell, and I wasn’t about to let that ruin whatever was happening between us right now.

His fingers worked my scalp like a professional whose title eluded me, the air filled with lustful scents. I groaned and closed my eyes, lavishing his digging fingers and scraping nails as they moved all around, working my scalp and neck.

“Imagine what more you could have from me if you didn’t fight me anymore?”

The water shifted around us as if we were being moved by sound alone, then rained down on top of my head as he tilted it backward, rinsing the suds from my hair.

What more did I need from him, and was Itrulyfighting him?

I opened my eyes and found myself ensnared in his dark, fervent gaze. Droplets of water ran down my face, tracing a path between my eyes and over the bridge of my nose, following the curve of my lips. “I thought you liked that?”

Chapter 39

Sacha

Mia’sblondehairspreadout across my pillow, her hands tucked under her rosy cheek, causing her lips to pucker. Her eyes moved behind her closed lids as I stared at her tender features, taking in her every detail with transfixed devotion.

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