Page 122 of Yearning For Her

“Good, mortal. Hold on to that rage.” He turned the knife, and the blade glinted. “That will make it all the more satisfying when I break you.”

Oh fuck no.

Willow leapt off the stool, crying out as her bare feet came down on thick shards of glass from the broken vase. She slipped, but somehow remained upright and kept going, pushing through the stabbing pain as she raced for the front door. If she could get outside, into the open… If she could just get away from Lachlan for a little longer, long enough for Kian to get here, then…

Hope swelled in her chest as she thrust out her hand and her fingers closed around the door handle. Her muscles tensed, ready to turn the knob and tug the door open.

Lachlan rammed into her from behind, pinning her against the door. The breath burst from her lungs, and crushing pain flared through her.

Grasping her hair, he yanked her head backward, spun her around to face him, and shoved her against the door. He pressed his body over her. His laughter lashed at her heart, deepening the chill that had gripped her.

“Spirited little creature, aren’t you? I’d intended to await our guest of honor, but I simply can’t resist.” He rubbed his cheek on her hair, drawing in another deep breath.

Willow struggled, bracing her hands against his chest and pushing, turning her head, kneeing and kicking him, but she couldn’t overcome him, couldn’t fight back.

The tip of the knife touched her belly. Willow froze. Everything was cold now—the rage she’d summoned was gone, swallowed up in the shadow of her terror.

“Your willpower doesn’t matter,” Lachlan purred. “Your anger, your love. Meaningless. You and I are dancing, and the music isn’t going to end for a long, long while.”

He pushed, and the steel blade pierced her skin and sank into her body. Stunned, she looked down to see the knife protruding from belly, dark blood slowly running across the metal and soaking into her tank top. Then the hot agony struck her.

Willow screamed.

Thirty-Four

Though Kian’s hand held the brush, he could only watch it move. It was not guided by conscious thought, but by something much deeper, something nestled in his heart. This was inspiration like he’d never experienced. Stroke by stroke, this painting was emerging directly from his soul with frightening speed.

A night sky spattered with stars. A huge full moon. Two figures intertwined before it, suspended in the air, made radiant by the silvery light.

This was unlike anything he’d ever created, and not just because of that startling inspiration, not just because of the clarity and potency of his vision. This was the first time in hundreds of years that he was painting himself. It was also the first time he was painting for someone else.

Though Willow had driven him to reach new pinnacles of form and expression in his art, all his paintings of her over the last few weeks had been for himself. They’d been Kian’s means of exploring his complex, evolving feelings for her, his way of satisfying his obsession when he couldn’t be near her. Before her, he’d painted to purge the emotions he’d felt from the mortals around him. She’d helped him discover his own emotions to express.

But this painting, this attempt at capturing the moment when their bond had been sealed and their souls had come together fully, was for Willow. An offering. A gift. An expression of everything he felt for her.

He paused and tapped the screen of his phone, which lay on the table beside his easel.

Two-twenty-five. Only three minutes had passed since the last time he’d checked. He faced the longest thirty-five minutes in the history of existence.

How was it possible to be so swept up on a tide of artistic passion that the minutes blazed by while also being hopelessly adrift on a sea of longing that stretched every instant into an eternity? A few hours should’ve been nothing to him, especially with this project to pass the time, and yet the wait was agonizing.

He needed to be with her. Every part of him yearned for her touch, her warmth, her scent, for the brightness of her smile and the musicality of her voice. Without her…he felt off. It was a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t entirely define, but it had settled deep inside him. The universe was just a bit off-kilter while they were apart.

Soon. I’ll be back with her soon.

All his instincts had demanded he stay with her earlier. They’d demanded that he chauffeur her to her meeting, sit beside her through it, and bring her home afterward—probably following a bout of lovemaking in the car to take the edge off his appetite. The only thing that had stopped him was Willow.

She hadn’t said anything about it, hadn’t uttered a word, but he knew her. She loved her work, had dedicated herself to it. She loved helping people feel beautiful. The income was meaningless to her when compared to the sense of fulfillment the work provided her. He would never do anything to threaten that, would never do anything to disrupt her happiness.

So, he’d driven to his apartment, where he’d busied himself by packing a suitcase with clothing and toiletries to bring to her house. Having spare clothes on hand made more sense than having to travel across town every time he popped a button off a shirt or tore a seam—which had become a frequent occurrence while he was with her.

As he’d exited his bedroom, he’d happened to glance into the art room. The open curtains had provided an unhindered view of the terrace and the skyline beyond. The surge of memories that had struck him in that moment, all from the night before, had pushed him straight to a blank canvas.

His mate spent her days taking photos to capture the beauty of other people so they could see it for themselves. Kian wanted to spend his days showing Willow her beauty. He wanted her to know that she outshone the moon and stars—not just last night, but always.

Kian’s hand stilled. A heavy lump coalesced in his chest and sank into his gut, leaving an unsettling hollowness in its wake. His skin crawled with a pulse of unease.

“Too long away from her,” he muttered. A few hours had felt like too much time apart from Willow even before they’d sealed their bond. Now it was torture.

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