Page 79 of Yearning For Her

Why should he have wasted time sympathizing with humans, worrying about their wellbeing, anyway? Mortals had been prey. Willow had been prey.

And today, she had been Lachlan’s prey.

Kian bared his teeth in a snarl.

Oh, he’d fucking known all along. That was why his rules existed—so he never had to face those consequences, never had to consider them, never had to feel even an inkling of guilt. So he could convince himself that he was better.

Incubi like Lachlan took whatever they wanted. They used their potent charm to overpower any protest, to insert desires into a mortal’s mind. To control. That Kian’s techniques weren’t quite so invasive didn’t make a difference. Whatever consent he’d convinced himself his mortal victims had given was just as invalid as any consent Lachlan took.

For all his efforts to curtail the dark, animalistic desires at his core, for all his struggles to keep the beast chained, what distinction could really be made between Kian and Lachlan? Perhaps other fae were right in how they viewed Kian’s kind.

Incubi were parasites. Leeches. Never to be trusted, never to be believed. Their very nature was to lie, exploit, and steal. To prey upon everyone. In the end, it was all the same. Technique didn’t make a difference, and Kian’s flimsy moral code couldn’t change the outcome.

Through the eyes of anyone else, Kian and Lachlan were the same thing.

“No,” he growled, claws scraping the counter. “I don’t instill fear in them. Don’t feed off their pain. Don’t break them, drain them, and discard them like refuse.”

Was that enough?

His glamour crumbled. He studied his reflection, stared into his own glowing blue eyes, and he couldn’t decide what he saw. A void, eternally hungry, devouring everything that came close? A well of passion, of potential, of…caring? A thinking, feeling being…

Or a beast?

But what choice did he have? How else was he to feed, to survive?

“This won’t help her,” he rasped. “You won’t help her. Not like this.”

He inhaled, filling his chest until it hurt, and held it in as he counted the beats of his heart.

Willow needed someone grounded. Someone solid, dependable. Someone to show her that even though her world had been shaken, it was still intact. Someone who could support her until she regained her balance. She needed to know she wasn’t alone.

Was that someone Kian? Was he capable of it?

His brows slanted down, and his nostrils flared as he bared his teeth. “Doesn’t fucking matter. I will be whatever she needs. Anything.”

He picked up his shirt and dropped it into the trash can beside the counter before leaving the room.

Bebe, Remy, and Loki retained their positions outside Willow’s bedroom, just as alert as before. Kian paused, but he did not allow himself to delay for long. He gingerly stepped over the cats to enter the bedroom, turned toward them, and took hold of the door.

They twisted their necks to continue staring.

“I’ll see to her,” he said gently. He shut the door.

Two muffled sounds chased away the silence of the room, both coming from behind the closed door of her bathroom—that of the running shower and Willow’s sobs. Kian’s insides twisted into knots and sank, pulling everything taut. He clenched his fists, making his claws bite into his palms, but nothing could relieve the devastation her anguish caused him.

There were a great many sounds he longed to hear from her lips. This was not one of them, and it never would be.

“Not fucking leaving,” he growled as he kicked off his boots. Breath ragged, he paced back and forth in the space between her bed and the bathroom door, heart skipping every time she made another pained sound, every time he heard her draw in a shuddering breath.

He needed to burst through that door and take her in his arms. Needed to hold her, kiss her, tell her he was here, that he would keep her safe.

“Calm. She needs calm. And a little fucking space, you damned fool.”

Gritting his teeth, he halted and forced himself to sit on the edge of her bed. He hunched forward, wings twitching, and clasped his hands together. Even with his elbows on his thighs, he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing. His thumbs moved with their own restlessness, claws absently scratching his skin.

An eternity passed, each moment of it a new pinnacle of agony.

The water turned off. Kian sucked in a breath and stilled, listening as Willow moved within the bathroom.

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