Page 63 of Swamp Kings 2

He covered her with furs as his own need raged. Hungers directly hinged to hers, demanding he obliterate them. He’d told her he was a virgin. It wasn’t a lie or entirely true—The Shunned bore no scars, no past, no marks of who they’d once been. Abstinence had come easily to him. Lust never held him. But this wasn’t lust, it was her. He’d been prepared to fight a legion of demons to keep her warm all night without laying a hand on her. Until he saw her need.

He lay beside her finally, torn apart. If he touched her the way she wanted him to, he’d become her husband. But would she become his wife? What if she only needed or wanted thatonetouch? Could he survive living the rest of his days with only a single memory?

It wasn’t a metaphor. She was a comet streaking across his life, calling him to reach out and feel, to taste, to be consumed. Then possibly dropped from a million miles high and shattered into nothing.And even then, he would remain hers. All the remaining days of his life would be hers.

He forced himself to consider the other choice—forbidding himself from touching her. Ten hellish seconds of that brought a fierce rebellion, warning his soul of a place in hell should he dare defy touching every inch of her inside and out.

Christ almighty.

He closed his eyes, caught between hope and hopelessness.

His eyes slowly opened. Hope.

He sat up, steadying his breaths before moving his gaze to her. She was hope. And if he gave himself, he’d always carry a part of her. Even if he never had her again, he’d own that one, divine spark of her.

A third possibility came. So evil, so crushing and vile that it demanded two feet of distance between them. He lay down with his back to her as number three brought its numbing blow. It said all of it was in his head. Her needs, his needs, all spawned from his very own desperate imagination.

Fuck.

He had no choice but to wait for her to show him. He needed more than a burning hunch before he threw himself into the flame.

****

Beth jerked awake to panic, scanning her surroundings. Still in the private room of the rig. She scooted to the end of the bed, her mind groggy as she tried to recall things. They’d reached the halfway point. Bishop spent all of thirty minutes with her that felt like five. And those were filled mostly with him interrogating her about her symptoms. There was no getting out of telling him. She knew he needed the truth and gave every drop of it. He didn’t like it as expected. He had a lot more to worry about now. Seer convinced her that truth prevails. If this was prevailing, she didn’t like it one bit. Prevailing how? Causing her husband to be more fearful for her life than he already was?

She sat at the end of the bed, the panicked feeling that woke her suddenly intensifying.She stood, opening the door and Maggie looked up from the couch at the end of the cabin.

“Hey,” she called softly, hurrying to her. “You were able to rest?” Maggie’s gaze narrowed. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I don’t know,” Beth whispered, moving to the window and peering behind the shade. “Somethings… off.”

“Off? How?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her breaths picking up as the panic went on growing. She scanned the countryside. Whatever it was came from outside. “Where are we?”

“Last I heard we have only a hundred miles to go.”

“A hundred,” she whispered. “I slept that long?”

“You must’ve needed it.”

The baby kicked several times, and she lowered her hand, rubbing the spot. She’d been oddly compelled to reassure him of her wellbeing lately.It’sokaysweetheart.Mommy’sokay. It felt like he was becoming a mini-Bishop, always worrying about her.

She moved to the opposite side of the cabin, opening the shade there, seeingthe sun still above the horizon. Two hours of daylight, maybe.

Maggie knelt next to her, rubbing her back and petting her head. “You want to talk about it?”

Beth glanced at her and lowered to the couch. She really did, but... “I would, I just... don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Maybe a bad dream?”

No. Not a dream. “Whatever is wrong, woke me up.” Bishop.

Beth shot off the couch and hurried to the front, yanking open the door of the small cabin. Every head turned as her gaze landed on Bishop, napping where he sat, head against the wall. She passed over the inquisitive gazes of the triplets then the dark shades covering Zodak’s eyes.

“You okay, ange?” Seer inquired in the large mirror above the driver’s seat.

“No,” she murmured, looking at Bishop right as he snapped awake as if something shook him. He immediately stood at seeing her.

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