Page 49 of Echoes of War

I stalked toward him, ready to fight him out if I had to. “Gladly.”

My right arm pulled back in preparation to punch him in the jaw, break it if I had to. I was sick of his two-cents. Two-cents obviously didn’t translate to common sense, because if he had any, he wouldn’t be here right now.

Blocking my hit, he grabbed me by the throat and pushed my back against the wall.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” I gasped out, trying to knee him in the stomach without success, “Didn’t ask you to risk your life, to almost die! If I remember correctly, I’m not only insane, or lack the mental capacity to separate fact from fantasy, but I’m also selfish. Why thehellwould you decide to follow in my path toward destruction?”

He released me from his grasp, sulking away until he was across the room. I rubbed my throat as I watched him, his head low and shoulders heaving up and down with heavy breaths.

His back remained to me as he leaned up against the window, “Yeah, Amaia, youarethe most selfish woman I have ever known.”

Ouch.That fucking hurt given that Finley was his wife. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” He turned around, eyes meeting mine with such anger and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.Desperation maybe, passion?He kept his eyes on mine, slowly stalking toward me. “Selfish, but the most selfless.”

Alexiares voice went from hard to tender and my mind wandered back to that day at the little blue house in Monterey. The day I’d met Suckerpunch, the place where I’d first gotten a glimpseof his life and his past. The parallel to now at the forefront of my thoughts.

His eyes darkened, “The most selfish, insane, infuriating, woman I have ever met.” With each word he took another step forward. I took a step back without realizing it until I was pressed up against the wall. Both his arms found their way beside my head, caging me in with nowhere left to go. “Selfish as in, you are so focused on keeping the people you love safe and protected that you selfishly close out the ones trying to do the same for you.”

Tearing my eyes away from him, they burned with tears from the hard truth, “I’m … I’m sorry. I?—”

“Look at me, Amaia. I’m not finished.” His words weren’t harsh, but commanding. I let out a soft whimper, forcing myself to face him. “You, Amaia, my girl, my princess, are fucking insane, andthatdrives me insane.”

Alexiares’ lips hovered, grazing mine with each word spoken. He paused, stopping to kiss both sides of my cheeks, my forehead, then the tip of my nose. My resistance melted away with every passing second, bringing me a moment closer to the inevitable.

“Let me go before I set you, and this entire place, on fire,” I said, a feeble last attempt to maintain my control.

The charge between us was palpable, something neither of us could deny any longer. Our connection had extended beyond physical attraction—we were two fucked up souls mixed up in a complicated history of animosity and new affection. I bared my neck to him, a small submission I’d never granted anyone in my life.

Challenging me, he dipped his head until his lips grazed my ear. “Stop bluffing and do it for once.”

Our gazes locked, his eyes burned dark with a mix of desire and defiance. A small, condescending smirk formed. He knew I was done for. I smashed my lips into his, instantly met withdesperation that matched my own. He lifted me up, pressing me hard into the wall.

Alexiares paused for a moment, studying me. My fingers found the strands of his hair in an effort to bring him back to me and deepen our kiss. Every barrier that stood between us crumbled as we surrendered ourselves to the magnetic pull that had drawn us together for months now. I groaned out in pleasure, my lips parting to grant him access.

Alexiares nibbled at my bottom lip, pulling back gently before intertwining his tongue with mine. His lips were softer than I imagined; he was gentler than I’d assumed, too, but rough enough to my liking. My lips brushed against his, softly, teasingly.

I leaned my head back against the wall, wanting to take in the beautiful, sharp angles of his face. A hoarse laugh escaped me as I studied him. His hair was tousled from my grasp, his lips plump and red from our kiss. A rush of emotions flashed over his face as he watched me, uncertainty crossing his features at the lines now blurred. I didn’t let those thoughts spiral for a minute longer, I wanted him. Wanted him more than anything I could imagine wanting in my life.

My fingers skimmed the crevice of his neck, and I whispered into his ear, “Am I yours yet?”

“Not yet,” he growled back, carrying me into my room and tossing me onto the bed.

Another moment of hesitation passed over his face, seeking my consent on furthering where things were headed. I sat up, pulling him closer and wordlessly granting him access to my heart, my soul, and anything else he desired.

Craving,needing, the warmth of his body against mine, I tore his shirt off. His bare skin revealed a collection of ink and scars. So many scars. I’d forgotten the wounds I’d discovered down on the river over a month ago when he’d nearly bled out.

My fingers traced each one of them gently, he studied my reaction. Starting at the crook of his neck, I took my time kissing each and every scar making sure he got the message. What he saw as damaged, I saw as a beautiful story that spoke to his strength. When I pressed my final kiss against the largest scar near his hip, I took my time scanning back up his body. Shame fell upon him, years of pain trying not to break through.

“Who did this to you?” I demanded, anger feeding the flame beneath my skin.

Alexiares said nothing, his body tensed under my touch.

Kissing the scar along his hip again, I mumbled, “I will kill them for hurting you.” And I meant it. I would set them ablaze and watch them burn, melt, turn to ash with my power for even touching him.

“He’s already dead,” he said, his accent echoing his voice.

“Then I hope he burns for eternity.” I grasped his jaw, forcing him to meet my eye. “You’re beautiful.”

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