The Darkest Touch

For the first time, Keeley would have been adored and pampered.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t feel like a carrier.”

“What you feel doesn’t matter. Remember? You can’t afford to slip up.”

“Like you did?”

“Exactly,” he croaked.

She offered a trembling, “Just wait. I’ll prove you wrong.”

“Please don’t. People will die.”

“They won’t.”

He ignored her, saying, “The first thing we need to do is find you a pair of gloves.”

No. No! The ground gave a little shake. “I have enough handicaps. I won’t tolerate another one.”

“I’m sorry, princess, but we can’t undo what’s been done.”

But they could find a cure. Surely. I wasn’t given so much power simply to fall prey to a measly disease. “You said you’d kill me if I ended up being a carrier. Why haven’t you tried?”

“Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

The ensuing silence dripped with stubbornness.

Fine. She switched directions. “Can I make you sick?” Could she touch him without consequences?

Did she want to touch him again?

She remembered the way he’d shielded her during the fight with the Unspoken One, how his hardness had pressed against her softness. How luscious it had felt to be desired by the fiercest of warriors.

How his touch had been more wonderful than his sickness had been horrible.

How she couldn’t breathe anymore without picking up hints of sandalwood and spice. Couldn’t close her eyes without seeing those bright emerald eyes, glinting naughtily, or that cascade of snow-white hair falling over his forehead, playing peekaboo with his black brows. Or those lips, so red and soft.

A blistering current of need swept through every inch of her. I do. I want to touch him. And she wanted him to touch her...everywhere.

“No,” he said. “I’m already a carrier. But I can make you sicker.”

Disappointment cooled her desire. She drew her arms around herself, asking, “What are your plans now that I’m better?”

“Get out of this realm. Get home.” He paused. “Take you with me.”

He wanted to stay together? “But, Torin,” she said, surprised by her sudden breathlessness.

“Yes, Keys.”

The huskiness of his voice was a silky, intimate caress, somehow kicking open a mental door, allowing her yearning to return. She meant to say “That isn’t wise.” Instead, she said, “Have you ever had a girlfriend? And if so, did you sleep together?” Dangerous topic. Proceed with caution.

And she’d thought him tense before. “Yes...and no.”

“How did she—or they—take care of your needs? How did you take care of theirs?”

“We’re not having this conversation, Keeley.”

“Because you’re embarrassed?”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“Wrong. The world belongs to me—I’m bonded to it—which means everything about everyone is my business.”

He waved a hand through the air, an unmistakable dismissal. “Speaking of bonds, don’t create one with me.”

Eight words. One rejection. A hurt stronger than she would have thought possible. She snapped, “Don’t worry. A permanent tie with the bubonic plague isn’t high on my list of priorities.”

“Good,” he snapped.

A light mist began to shower them. “Did the females leave you because you couldn’t meet their physical needs?” she asked. Must hurt him the way he hurt me.

He twisted and locked his gaze with hers. Water droplets caught in his lashes. Fury radiated from him, and yet his skin paled rather than flushed. “Yes,” he admitted softly. “They did. Happy now?”

Not even close. Which bewildered her. She’d just given tit for tat, and yet she longed to apologize. What’s wrong with me? “So you never touched them? Even with your gloves on?”

“Very rarely.” He frowned. “What about you and Hades?”

“What about us?” she asked, the mist vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“You slept together, right?”

Had he heard of their tumultuous courtship? “We did. We also broke up.”

“Why?”

“Because, like you and your previous girlfriends, he couldn’t meet my needs.” Namely, the ones to avoid brimstone scars and dungeons.

Torin ran his tongue over his teeth. “Are you difficult to please, then?”

“Hardly. I’m the easiest.”

“Hardly,” he mocked. “I’ve been taking care of you for days, princess. If you could have rung a bell to get my attention every time you decided you wanted something, you’d never have stopped ringing it. Even though I’ve only been a few feet away.”

He said that like it was a bad thing. “I’m a queen. That’s what we do.”

“Well, then, it’s no wonder royalty has such a bad rap.”

Oh, no, he didn’t. He couldn’t insult her without suffering the consequences. “You’re honored to be in my presence, warrior. Say it.”

“Or what? You’ll explode me? Sorry, princess, but that threat had a shelf life and it’s already expired.”

Streams of anger, a crash of thunder. “Are you implying I can’t harm you because of the brimstone? Because we’ve discussed this. I can find a way, I promise you.”