Page 70 of A Baron of Bonds
I had no doubts of this. Some things are certain.
I don’t believe I would have been merciful, either.
And I don’t believe I would have found myself lacking in the revelry of his demise.
Rev still held me. His hand, which had just held mine to spin me around to the song, lay flat and wide against my stomach as he pressed my back to his chest.
He said nothing, though I knew he felt every murderous thought, every sliver of rage that slipped through my heart until it festered, infected and painful.
My breath matched the rapidity of my pulse while my eyes flicked over the likeness.
It was a good one. His outstretched, gloved hand was worn, so much so that it was no longer bronze, but golden. I didn’t doubt its discoloration was from the people of this city reaching back to the man who hid his secret under the very gloves they brushed for comfort and thanks.
I thought of what I could do.
One, I could fall to my knees and weep. I could shed many more tears for the pain he caused, the lies he fed, and the brokenness he’d helped cause in Revich. I could fall apart in the busy square and Rev would hold me close, whispering words of love and a future we still held, even after all that manipulation and loss.
But this was not the time to weep.
This was the time to rage.
I stepped forward, out of Rev’s grasp and clasped the hand of the man who had taken me from this very city seven years before.
Just as I knew I could hold breath in my lungs, I knew I could destroy this piece of tribute. I knew I could melt this bronze into a bubbling puddle of metal and revel in doing so. I would savor the moments of destruction, watching him fall before me—the same woman he expected to fall to the Blight of Felgren.
Revich stayed silent, and it was the silence that stopped me.
I heard no words from his lips, no emotions from our bond.
He stood behind me, letting me choose. Letting me decide what was next—what path I wanted to take in those moments.
But I was no longer just one. My choices would affect him as well, and I knew the one I could not bring myself to take.
If I showed my power, if I demolished this loved statue of the Baron these people saw as their savior, guards would be alerted immediately. The people would be frightened at such a feat, and I would be taken to the castle cells. But Revich would never allow that to happen, and a struggle would ensue.
Rev and I would win the battle, and then where would we be?
For perhaps the first time in my life, I stayed my hand.
I inhaled fully, holding my breath, making my choice. The wrath within me raged and fought, budding sparks of flame rattling against my chest, screaming to be free—to burn every ounce of Heimlen’s memory left behind in his death.
I turned around to face Rev. His eyes showed the very darkness that threatened to consume me. My head jerked in a short flicker ofno, enough to let him know I would not give into my rage. I would chooseusover Heimlen. I would choose to follow the very words Rev burned into me the night before, and I would recognize our chain, our leash, our lifeline.
Our lips found each other’s hard and heedless of where we were, who we were, or what our lives had come to be.
We stumbled to the fountain. We bumped into people who either shouted or snickered, neither one of us caring in the least.
I don’t know how we made it to the inn.
I don’t know how we made it up the one hundred and five steps, but I do know we almost didn’t. My laced front hung loose with Revich’s hand warm and rough inside, my breasts on fire contained in their cotton cage, begging to be free halfway up the staircase on the third landing.
I pulled at the waistline of his pants and found my way inside, gripping him tightly, forcing a deep rumble from his chest. He let me stroke him, his cloak pulled over our bodies as another couple passed us, quickly leaving the scene we displayed.
We hadn’t uttered a word to each other, and words seemed insignificant and trite as he gripped my arm tightly, pushing me back to the stairs. Up we went, my feet finding purchase on each step that rose behind me. His body somehow guided us, though his mouth was still pressed to mine, our tongues flicking over teeth and lips and any surface that could bring us closer together.
We reached the fifth landing, my hand still stroking him tightly, and he tore at my skirts with a sharp rip.
I freed him quickly and gasped as he thrust inside me once again, my back pressed to the wall, a mere ten feet from our door. My head hit the wood behind me, and I saw stars, slumping forward as he lifted me from the wall. My thoughts swam in confusion for a moment before I heard a click and we tumbled into our room.
