Page 117 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
His temper boiled, scalding him from the inside out. “Why the fuck not?”
He would not tolerate secrets between them. Not if she was to be his wife, and certainly not since she’d acknowledged him as her mate. If his snake of a father had anything to do with this, if he’d threatened Everinne or forced her into any kind of unjust bargain, Atlas would shove his finest blade down Oldrich’s throat.
Without warning, Everinne’s voice, sultry and pleading, infiltrated his thoughts.
“Because he’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt me. He’ll hurt Veros.”The promise of tears clung to her lower lashes, but they did not fall. She rubbed her lips together once, tightening her grip on his arms.“He will cause pain and suffering to everyone I love, and he’ll use me to do it.”
Love.
Atlas filed that word away for later.
He stared at her, absorbing her earnest expression, the way her plea for him to understand echoed through his mind. He slid two fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up just slightly, tracing the full curve of her lips with his eyes. Her quick intake of breath was exactly what he’d been hoping to find.
“That’s why,” he muttered quietly. His other hand fell away from her neck, moving to her waist instead to pull her closer soevery breath of space was occupied by the press of their bodies against one another. “That’s why you refused me the night of the ball. Why you so adamantly denied the bond even though you knew it to be true.”
A single tear slipped free from the corner of her eye, proof of her reasoning.
Of course.
It was all so damn clear now, he’d been a fool not to realize it sooner.
“You don’t want him to know.” Atlas’s hand cupped the side of her face, and he lowered his head so his nose grazed her ear where the amethyst studs sparkled. He feathered a few kisses along her ear, all the way to the tip, and she melted into him. “Were you trying to protect me, Wildheart?”
She huffed in annoyance and he grinned. “I was trying to protect everyone. Not just you.”
“But maybe especially me?” he countered smoothly.
“Atlas.” Everinne smacked him soundly on the chest, rearing back. “This isn’t a game. It’s more dangerous than you could ever think.”
His smile vanished. “Ask me if I care.”
She crossed her arms, a line of concern wedging its way across her brow, and her eyes flashed in agitation. That plump bottom lip stuck out again, and she wet it. Her sulking was definitely not having the desired effect.
“If he hurts you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“And if he hurts you,” Atlas growled, snaring her pouty lip with his teeth until she yelped, arching into him, “I’ll end his fucking life.”
His mouth slashed across hers in a hungry kiss, his tongue seeking entry along the seam of her lips. She opened for him willingly, let him taste and explore and claim. Everinne went pliant in his arms, her lush body molding against his like she wasmade for him, like she’d been crafted from the very temptation of nightfall itself. She was the blur between worlds, when the sun was at its weakest but the moon was not yet high, she was the rise of dusk. The twilight hour.
She sighed into his mouth, filling his lungs with warm caramel, dark roses, and blackcurrant. Her scent teased his tongue, and he wanted to unravel every layer of her.
“I need your help,” she murmured, breaking their kiss.
“Anything.” Atlas would give her the world. “Whatever you need.”
She met his gaze and held. “My friend is in the dungeon. I need to get her out.”
“Okay.” He’d already decided right then he would never deny her, he would give until his heart gave out, bleed for her until all that remained of him was bones and ash. No matter what she asked of him, he would oblige, and she would always know she could depend on him.
Everinne blinked, her mouth falling open slightly. “You didn’t even think about it.”
The corner of his mouth curved into a smile. “I didn’t have to, I will never refuse you.”
Whatever concern or wariness still warring inside her faded away. Her features softened, and the bond warmed, securing snugly around his heart.
“You must understand,” Everinne said quietly, a glimmer of hope rising in her voice, “we’re not just freeing her from the dungeon, but the Mystic Obscura as well.”
A needle of apprehension prodded at Atlas’s spine. Blood magic was tricky, it could be tracked and traced. “If she’s given Reine a drop of her blood, there is nowhere we can take her that she will be safe.”
