The Darkest Torment
Page 48

“He isn’t human, which means he’ll live—”
“What!” Not human? When did that happen? “He’s immortal?”
Baden frowned. “The beast is pawing at my head... I think Aleksander is merely half immortal, that he’ll live longer than you but not forever. Now.” He poured her a glass of red wine. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
Such a normal action from a man who wasn’t normal. “News flash. Your wants aren’t more important than mine.”
He searched her eyes before he nodded. “You’re right. Now I’m the one who’s sorry. Forgiven?”
How could she deny him when he hadn’t denied her? “Forgiven,” she said with a little smile.
As she sipped and moaned at the richness of the wine, he removed the lids from the platters of food. “Do you like seafood?”
“Love it.” Pretending to be a lady—only taking one small bite at a time—wasn’t as difficult as she would have guessed. With Baden’s attention fixed on her, watching her every move, her stomach twisted. The rest of her continued to ache.
“You look uncomfortable,” he said, almost sounding...smug.
“I am.” Play a little hard to get.
Actually, why bother? It had been too long since she’d experienced any kind of pleasure. If a night with Baden meant forgetting the past six months, if only for a little while, well, sign her up for a little some-some tonight.
“How, exactly, did you meet Aleksander?” He growled the name, as if it scraped his tongue.
If Baden were a dog, he would have barked at her, too. Maybe even nipped her. He would have been labeled aggressive, but as she knew, aggressive wasn’t synonymous with cruel. A growl was merely a warning: dark emotions were escalating.
If fear was the culprit, she knew to create distance while remaining within eyesight. But that wasn’t the case here. Baden had no concept of fear. He was angry—at her? Or her circumstances?
For a man who’d once claimed her marital status meant nothing, well, that would be big. Huge.
“I thought you didn’t want to discuss him?” Studying his features, she added, “My husband, I mean.”
He bared his teeth in a scowl. “I didn’t. Now I do.”
And what Baden wanted, Baden got.
She reached out and traced her fingers down his gloved arm. The action served a dual purpose. One, it helped get him used to her touch without paining him, and two, it reminded him she was here with him, not Alek, hopefully soothing the worst of his anger.
He stared down at her hand with confusion...and longing?
Oh, yes, and it nearly undid her. She continued stroking him, saying, “He wanted to buy home protection dogs from me. He, meaning my husband.”
Baden’s scowl deepened.
Stroke, stroke. “Then, while I had him within my clutches, I seduced him for his money and power.” Don’t remind him of his shitty behavior. Oops.
Baden’s copper gaze narrowed on her. “Do you want me to kill him now?”
“No.” Stroke, stroke, stroke. “I’m just reminding you of your assumptions about me.”
He pushed out a breath, his shoulders turning in the slightest bit. “My apologies. I know you better now, and know you only married him to save your pets.”
As another wave of grief crashed over her, she pulled her arms close to her middle, ending all contact. “But I failed.”
He leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips, and his cheek brushed hers. He grimaced. To her disappointment, he retreated.
“When I refused to sell Alek a dog,” she said, “he asked me to dinner. I said no, and he made certain my brother acquired a taste for heroin, so that, when Alek told him to poison Midnight, the oldest member of my pack, Dominik obeyed.” Her chin trembled, but as usual there was no burn of tears.
“Your own brother betrayed you?” Baden’s fork bent.
She fought a growing sense of emptiness. Where was Dominik now? “In an effort to save my other three dogs, I found them new homes. Alek tracked them, again with my brother’s help, and stole them, hid them. He showed me pictures, said I could have them back after the wedding. I—” Hurt too much, and couldn’t do this. “Let’s change the subject, okay?”
He set down the ruined fork and shifted, his knee grazing hers. “Why do you never cry?”
He wasn’t the first to notice, but he was the first to ask. “I cried while my mother was sick. After she died, I just...couldn’t. I was tapped out, I guess.”
“She suffered?”
“Very much.”
“So you were relieved her suffering had finally come to an end. And guilty that you were relieved.”
“Yes.” An insightful observation for a self-proclaimed brute. “How did you know?”
The guilt she’d glimpsed every so often tightened his features. “When I was beheaded, I wasn’t taken by surprise. I could have ducked. I could have fought, but I didn’t. I remained unmoving. I...in essence...committed suicide in hopes of saving my friends from Distrust.”
Judging by the conversations she’d overheard in the fortress, she knew those friends suspected he’d wanted to die, though he’d never confirmed or denied it. And yet, here and now, he trusted Katarina to keep his secret and not hold the outcome against him.
Her heart swelled. “Maybe you did it for yourself, too? To finally know peace.” Was that the true source of his guilt?
A stiff nod.
Lightbulb! No wonder he hated weakness. His greatest loss and regret had been born in the moment he’d stopped fighting.
“You’re a changed man,” she said. “What you did, you would never do again. You grew and you learned.” And now, they both deserved a break from their pasts.
She plucked at the collar of his shirt and leaned closer to him, as if she planned to offer him a treat...a kiss. As he tensed, readying for the press of her lips, she released him and leaned away.
Disappointment darkened his features, and she almost laughed. Just like that, she felt buoyant, even...mischievous?
“I’m trying to decide...” she said. Oh, yes. Mischievous.
“Between?” The word was gnashed.
Her voice dropped to a raspy purr. “Between taking what I want, and making you come get it.”