For once, Nestore didn’t argue. Maybe he was finally coming around.
“But I’ll brave these haunted walls for you, Nestore.”
His jaw tightened, and his fingers twitched against mine.
Back in our primary bedroom, Nestore and I showered together. He gently cleaned my most private area with a washcloth. I did the same for him, being extra gentle so I wouldn’t irritate his many scars.
When we curled up in bed together, I pressed a kiss to his throat.
“When I hunted you, I longed for your hatred and fear, but now all I crave is your love.” He sounded tortured, as if those words doomed him.
“You have it,” I admitted in a whisper. I had never stopped loving him, even when I wanted to hate him.
Nestore stilled, his breath halting. He released it in a rush. “I lied.”
I pulled back to look at his handsome face. “About what?”
“About my firsts.”
I blinked, not sure I heard him right. “What do you mean?” A small flame of hope flickered in my chest, but I was terrified his next words would extinguish it.
He cupped my cheek, self-hatred edged into his face. “When you ran, I tried to be with another woman, to have her suck me off, but I couldn’t even bear her touch. Her fingers against my skin made me want to rip them off her hand.”
“You mean…”
“My firsts were yours too. Like I promised all those years ago.”
Tears shot into my eyes, and I didn’t hold them back. “But how? How did I not notice?”
“I’m a man who’s learned to put on a show, to become someone other for people not to see my true self. You saw what you expected to see.”
I shook my head. “You knew what to do.”
“I watched and learned.” Nestore wiped the tears off my cheeks with his thumb.
I kissed his chest, then his throat, and last his lips. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. You are all mine.”
“I always was and always will be, dove. My heart rests in your pretty palms, and it’s on you to either squash it or keep it safe. Nobody else holds that power.”
“And you hate that,” I said thickly.
“I must hate something, and it can’t be you.”
Iwoke to an empty bed. Without bothering to turn on the lights, I grabbed my dressing gown, allowing the moonlight streaming in through the windows to guide my way. It would be even darker where I’d go next.
I had a sinking feeling that I knew where I’d find Nestore.
He’d been vulnerable by admitting his firsts were mine, and now he needed to feel powerful again, to unleash the hatred and rage he couldn’t unleash on me.
I trembled as I descended the staircase into the basement. I heard a pained gasp and froze on the last step, leaning against the rough wall of the stairwell, and closed my eyes. My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t want to take the last step.
I shuddered, then set my foot down. A small scream escaped my lips when a shadow fell over me. “You shouldn’t be here.” Nestore’s voice was menacing. He took my upper arm anddragged me back upstairs. He didn’t stop until we reached the bedroom. I turned on the light. I needed to see his face, but it didn’t bring the consolation I hoped. Blood splatters covered his face and throat. He dropped his hand from my arm, where blood now smeared my skin. “You said you’d never touch me with blood-covered hands again.”
His expression fell. He stormed into the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth. I watched his face as he cleaned my skin with furrowed brows as if the task required all his attention.
He finally met my gaze.
I cupped his face despite the darkness in his eyes.