Page 123 of Fated In Blood

I obeyed and the center of my back tingled, a pleasant sensation, like the ends of my hair dancing across my naked shoulders. Then the tickle turned to an ice-cold bite, which turned to something entirely different.

“That…fuck, that hurts.” My entire body clenched against the cutting frost, even crueler than the searing heat that had burned the mark into my flesh to begin with. I gripped Blake’s hand, my body folding over itself as I fought to breathe.

“Almost there, almost over,” he chanted softly, letting me practically crush every bone in his fingers. “Try to breathe through the pain, Evie, just?—”

“Fuckingstop talking,” I sobbed, air hissing between my teeth. “There’s no fucking…breathing through…this.”

“How much longer is this going to last?” His low growl sounded too harsh to come out of his mouth. “This had better fucking be worth the pain, Aria.”

“So fucking protective. You never had a problem with my methods before,” she sniped back.

I let them argue, my body bowing beneath the pain, trying not to end up on the floor that was strewn with broken glass and fuck knows what else, because if I survived this clusterfuck, the last thing I wanted to do with the rest of my shitty day was pick shards of glass out of my knees and get a tetanus shot.

“Because I’ve never given a flying fuck about who you were hurting before,” Blake hissed, his other hand landing on the small of my back, thumb rubbing circles on my skin. Just that small move took the edge of fear away, letting me draw a full breath.

His voice softened. “But this time…this time I do care.”

I returnedto Crimson House draped over Blake’s arm like a limp noodle, every last ounce of energy drained. I couldn’t take a single step when he set me down in the upstairs hallway, one arm hugged tight around my waist.

“Let’s get you into bed before you fall down, little slayer.” There was a light, teasing note to the nickname instead of a venomous bite, but that was worry in his voice, in the careful way he supported me and how he hadn’t left me alone for a second.

“Shouldn’t we make sure Riordan has the dagger?” After everything I’d gone through to steal that thing, I couldn’t believe Blake had whisked me away and abandoned the weapon.

“For your information, you are far more valuable than the dagger. But yes, Rohr’s got the weapon locked up in his office safe. Can you stand?”

“Of course I can stand. I have feet, don’t I?” I groused, even though I honestly wasn’t sure. Aria had done a number on me, and my legs were a mix of rubber and molasses.

“So grumpy. Here we are. Riordan had some of the staff get everything ready for you.” He swung the bedroom door open, the lemony smell of furniture polish hitting me full in the face.

“I hope you like it. We tried to think of everything, but it’s been a long time since we’ve had to worry about anyone’s comfort but our own, and frankly, neither of us needs much these days.”

The brand-new bed had gauzy curtains and was piled with feathery soft duvets and pillows in a pretty dove gray, thick rugs covering the floor beneath. Fresh flowers overflowed enormousvases on the nightstands. Fancy bags were lined up on the dresser, emblazoned with the names of high-end New York department stores, and a bank of candles burned on the mantel, filling the room with a mix of florals and citrus that chased the dusty smells away.

With the tall Gothic windows, arched ceiling, and wooden beams, the room looked like something out of a fairy tale.

“Riordan…did all of this? For me?”

I was struck dumb by the sight, my feet rooted to the spot while my brain processed how and why and when this had been accomplished.

“This wasn’t all Riordan.Ihelped, too.” He sounded awfully defensive. “We got this ready before we left for Virginia, in the hopes we’d be bringing you home with us.” Blake’s voice grew tighter with every word, tension straining the air. “Whatever you don’t like, we can change. The colors, the rugs…”

He strode across the room and blew out the candles, batting away the smoke. “Maybe the candles are too much. Yeah, they’re too much.”

That was doubt creeping into his voice.

Like he was wondering if he’d made a mistake.

“I’ve never…” I swallowed around the knot clogging my throat, blinking away the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.Ever. I’m just…trying to take it all in.”

Damn it, I was going to sob like a fucking baby and ruin everything.

“I need to pee.” I staggered past him to the bathroom and shut the door, bursting into tears the second I was alone. Who would have thought that kindness would break me apart faster than cruelty?

But I’d been hardened against cruelty my entire life.

I had no defenses against kindness, especially not from these two.

And how pathetic was that? That I could endure pain and torture at my father’s hand better than I could endure pretty things and fragrant candles from two males trying to make amends? How broken did I have to be that just the slightest hint of kindness made me run away and hide?

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