Page 99 of Heir of Illusion

I flinch.

His eyes flare and his hand quickly retreats, flexing at his side. I wish my brain was working better right now. I tilt my head, grimacing as the movement pulls at my wounds. But I need to get a better look at him. I need to understand why the most fearsome person I know appears helpless before me. Is it my fault? Did I cause this?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not knowing what else to do.

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. His gaze moves to the bed behind me, and a second later, he’s lunging forward. I lift my arms to shield myself, but all he does is rip the sheet from the bed and lift it to his nose. His eyes darken at whatever he scents, causing the tiny hairs on my arms to rise.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he spits the words.

Baylor, I realize. He’s going to kill Baylor. And he could do it. He could actually destroy that heartless bastard. Fear charges through my foggy thoughts, reminding me why that’s a terrible idea.

“Don’t!”

He stares down at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You beg for his life? Even now? After this?”

The implication in his words causes another sharp crack in my chest. “You don’t understand,” I offer lamely. “You don’t know what he’s done.”

The God of Death drops to his knees before me.

“Then tell me!” he begs, reaching forward slowly, giving me a chance to pull away before he takes my fingers in his. “Tell me what he’s done?”

I shake my head, unable to force myself to explain the truth of the collar.

“Please,” I beg him softly, my voice catching on the words. “Please, just get me out of here.

Tears flood down my face unrestrained. His mouth falls open and his gaze flits around the room, as if he’s searching for a way to fix this. He rises to his feet, pacing back and forth as he runs a hand through his dark hair, already messy from the wind. When he turns back to me, his face is hard with resolve.

“Okay,” he agrees, taking deep breathes to steady himself. “I can do that. But I need you to be careful not to touch my skin.”

I nod.

Thorne disappears behind me for a moment, and I can hear him riffling through my armoire. When he returns, he’s holding my thick cloak and a pair of gloves I haven’t worn in ages. He gently wraps me in the soft garment, buttoning it all the way up to my throat before finagling my hands into the gloves.

As if I weigh nothing at all, Thorne lifts me in his arms and cradles me against his chest. Doing as he asked, I make sure not to touch any part of his skin as I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. Immediately, a strange sensation settles over me. One I’ve never truly felt before.

Safety.

“Will anyone see us?” I whisper, enjoying the cool air that kisses my cheeks as we step onto the balcony.

“No,” he promises, his voice sounding strained. “I’m rather good at staying out of sight.”

The smallest smile appears on my face as he leaps into the sky, carrying me away from all my troubles.

“Me too,” I murmur.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

The waves rush toward me, swallowing my feet and part of my calves before retreating to the ocean. I sit on the shoreline, the sand hot beneath me as the sun shines above us, unimpeded by any clouds. I removed the cloak and gloves as soon as we got here, wanting to feel the bright rays on my skin.

Movement nearby catches my attention. An orange crab scuttles toward me, freezing when it notices me watching. After a few seconds, it scoots forward another inch. I arch a brow, waiting to see what it will do. Making a wise decision, the crustacean quickly turns around and scampers off, sending a flash of amusement flickering through me. Was it my frightening appearance that scared the creature away?

When Thorne landed here in this secluded cove, I immediately began washing off the blood that stained my neck and chest. The saltwater stung the unhealed cuts, but I refused to stop. Maybe I thought if I could wash away the evidence of the morning, it would be as if it never happened at all. I was able to clear the worst of it from my skin, but the nightgown is beyond repair.

“You might as well come enjoy the water,” I call to Thorne, who’s been pacing through the sand since we arrived. Even with all of his layers, there’s no sweat on his brow. He doesn’t appear to be fazed by the heat at all.

He comes to a halt at the sound of my voice. A second later, he’s kneeling into the sand a few feet away, his eyes intense as he watches me.

---