Chapter 31
William had never truly made love before. Not like this.
Oh, he had known lust. Quick, careless, fleeting. A handful of women over the years had warmed his bed for a night or two. No promises exchanged, no feelings involved. It had been simple. Clean. Forgotten by morning.
But last night…
Last night had been something else entirely. Something that had cracked open a part of him he hadn’t known existed.
Sorcha had shattered him until he had poured himself into her. He could still hear the echo of her moans, the way she had clenched around him and cried out his name as though it were the only thing she remembered.
Now, she lay in the cradle of his arms, sleeping like the gentlest of angels fallen to earth.
Her hair spilled across his chest, red like embers. Her body curved instinctively into his. Her soft breasts were pressed against his ribs, one leg thrown over his thigh.
Naked. Utterly his, even if for a few hours.
His length throbbed against her hip at the thought.
He could have rolled her over and thrust into her until she gasped awake. But that hunger was nothing compared to what was happening in his chest. In his heart. It beat too fast, in a way that made his throat tighten and his lungs seize.
How can I send her away?
The thought cut through him.
How can I possibly live without her?
He drew in a harsh breath. He shoved a hand through his hair, as though the rough motion might clear his mind.
He had not been this hesitant since he was a boy of sixteen, standing over his father’s bloodied body, shedding tears that vowed vengeance.
What was he going to do? He was trapped between the past and hope for a new future.
The question niggled at him relentlessly.
His mind flashed back to that night years ago. The screams. The smoke. His mother’s lifeless eyes, staring at nothing.
The traitors’ whispers had followed him for years afterward. His parents’ names were still being dragged through the mud by men who had never faced justice.
Some of those men still walked free. Some still plotted. If he let Sorcha stay in his castle, in his bed, in his life, she would become a target.
The thought sent ice through his veins. He could not—would not—bear it if any harm came to her because of him.
Things would turn bloody soon; he was sure of that.
Nay.
He shook his head once, and the movement made her lashes flutter. She didn’t wake up, however.
The sight of her deeply asleep, so peaceful, pierced him so hard that he forgot how to breathe.
Instinct took over. He lowered his head and pressed the softest of kisses to each closed eyelid. Featherlight touches that felt more like vows. When he drew back, her eyes opened.
The sight made him chuckle. He hadn’t expected her to wake up so easily.
He watched as awareness returned to her slowly. He saw it in the way her pupils dilated, the way her lips parted on a soft, startled breath, before a blush bloomed in her cheeks.
She must be remembering the previous night, how she had arched beneath him, how she had screamed his name while he had driven into her again and again.
She tried to hide it, turning her face into his palm with shy grace that made his heart stutter.
He let out another chuckle, this one tender. Then he lowered his head again and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
She melted into it instantly, like she had the night before. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
His length pressed against her belly, but he made no move to take her. Not yet. Not until he had asked the question that had suddenly become the most important thing in the world.
He broke the kiss long enough to speak, his voice rough with emotion. “Sorcha…”
She blinked up at him, her eyes soft and searching.
He raised a hand to tuck a stray red strand behind her ear.
“What do ye truly want?” he asked somberly. “Daenae tell me what ye think I want to hear. Tell me what ye want.”
Her breathing slowed, her eyes widening as though she had never expected that question.
“I want to stay,” she whispered shakily. “Desperately. I want to stay with ye, William. Here. Always.”
He could not deny the truth in her gaze. It terrified him more than revenge ever had, because it meant choosing. It meant risking. It meant loving, when he had sworn never to let anyone close enough to wound him again.
And yet the words slipped out of him before he could stop them.
“Ye may remain.”
Her eyes widened with shock, before her lips parted with a soundless gasp.
He continued, nonetheless, wanting her to hear it all. “I ken I was wrong to avoid ye. To push ye away. I owe ye explanations… many of them. And ye’ll have them, I swear it. But another time.”
He kissed her forehead, lingering there.
“For now,” he murmured against her skin, “I must finish what I started. I must see this through. And I will do everything in me power to keep ye safe while I do it.”
He pulled back to look into her eyes. She didn’t say anything, only offered a smile.
She was staying. And he would burn the world down before letting anyone take her from him.
The afterglow of ecstasy lingered long after. It refused to fade, and Sorcha wasn’t even complaining.
She was walking through the dimly lit corridor, her mind replaying what she had done with William the night before.
Oh, how he had claimed her in the most exquisite way imaginable. She quivered at the memory.
He had been relentless. Her cries had echoed through his chamber as he pounded into her so hard that the ancient oak frame creaked in protest. And his mouth—God, his wicked, talented mouth had worshipped her nipples until they were like ripe berries under his tongue.
Her thighs trembled slightly, as if his touch lingered like invisible ink.
The morning after had been tender, just like she wanted. No disappearances. No acting as though nothing had ever happened. William had pulled her close, his lips mapping every inch of her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
She had shivered at the unexpected tenderness from him but had been quick to return it.
Now, as she made her way through the castle, her hips swayed with an unconscious grace. She hummed a tune, unable to contain her excitement and happiness.
Somehow, the castle seemed less foreboding today.
She had good news! How could she hide it, this glow that radiated from her like sunlight piercing through stormclouds?
Her smile was so wide that her cheeks ached. But she wouldn’t complain. She couldn’t wait to share her good news.
She was staying! She didn’t have to go anywhere!
Her heart soared with excitement. She wondered who she should break the news to first.
Perhaps Avery.
Sorcha could already imagine the teasing glint in the girl’s eyes, the way she would demand every scandalous detail over a stolen pint of ale. Then Rhea, sweet and steadfast, would hug her fiercely as she murmured blessings for a bright future.
But Caelan? Caelan would be the happiest of all. Her cousin would be glad to hear that they didn’t have to leave. That they didn’t have to start anew in a faraway village. His face would light up like the midsummer sun.
No more packing trunks, no more tearful goodbyes. She could call this place home now.
She hummed louder as she crossed the old halls, her gown brushing against the floor.
Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her, like the scuff of a boot on stone. Then, a shadow fell right next to her.
Her breath hitched.
She turned her head, when a dark blur shot from the wall like a nightmare given form. Before she could react, a large hand clamped over her mouth from behind, muffling her startled cry.
Panic ripped through her as she twisted against the iron grip.
Who? Why? Her mind screamed the questions as her body fought for freedom.
But her attacker was too strong. Suddenly, a foul-smelling cloth was pressed against her lips and nose. The acrid scent burned her throat, making her eyes water.
She struggled even harder, her nails digging into his skin. But the more she twisted, the more his grip tightened, until it became almost painful.
Her heart hammered wildly. She tried to scream again, but his hand muffled every sound.
With the last bit of energy she had, she wrenched her head to the side. She was desperate to catch a glimpse of her assailant.
Was he one of William’s enemies? Or was it something worse, tied to her curse?
The questions had barely formed when a wave of dizziness hit her. Her lungs burned for air.
Nay, I willnae go down like this. Nae now, nae when I’ve just found love.
She twisted again, desperate to break free, when she received a sharp blow to the back of her head.
Just like that, the word dissolved into oblivion, everything going black.