Chapter Eleven
Annika
“I thought I lost you,” I heard him say again.
My eyes locked onto his. “You didn’t.”
“I won’t… ever,” he whispered.
I felt as if it were the first time in days I was able to breathe.
He took me by the hand and gently led me into the tub. The heat of the water wrapped around me, sinking into my skin, soothing the ache in my muscles. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, my body finally releasing the tension that had gripped it for days.
Lucas knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up, his hands steady as they trailed through the water. He was careful, gentle in a way that made my chest tighten.
His fingers brushed my shoulder, and I shivered despite the warmth.
“Too hot?” he asked, his voice low, rough in this quiet space.
I shook my head. “No. It’s perfect.”
He dipped a cloth into the water, wringing it out before trailing it over my arm. Slow, deliberate strokes, like he was afraid I might shatter under his touch.
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” I whispered.
He looked up, his dark eyes locking on mine. “You feel like it right now.”
I swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his gaze cutting through me. “But I’m not.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he focused on his task, sliding the cloth down my arm, over my wrist, and then dipping it back into the water.
The heat and his touch worked together, easing the soreness in my limbs. I leaned back, letting my head rest against the edge of the tub as he shifted closer, his hands moving to my shoulders.
His thumbs pressed gently into the knots there, and I sighed. The tension melted away beneath his touch.
“Better?” he asked.
“Mmm…” It was all I could manage.
He kept going, his hands firm but careful as they moved lower, kneading the tightness from my muscles. Every brush of his skin against mine sent ripples of heat through me, but it wasn’t just the water. It was him.
I opened my eyes, finding him watching me, his gaze unreadable.
“What?” I asked softly.
“Nothing.” He dipped the cloth into the water again, wringing it out before brushing it down my collarbone, the fabric dragging lightly over my skin. “Just… you.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond to that, but then he leaned closer, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“I almost feel like this is a dream,” he murmured, the words barely a breath against my skin.
“It’s not,” I whispered back, my fingers brushing over the rough edge of his unshaven beard. “I’m here. I’m safe… because of you.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, his eyes dark and shadowed as he picked up the cloth again and kept working.
I let him.
Let him care for me, let him wash away the dirt and blood and fear. Let him pour his strength into me, even as the weight of the past few days sat heavy on both of us.
When he moved lower, his hands trailing down my arms and over my ribs, I caught his wrist.
“Lucas,” I whispered.
He paused, his eyes snapping to mine.
“I love you.”
The words hung there between us, raw and bare, and for a moment, he didn’t breathe. Then his hand turned, fingers lacing with mine beneath the water.
“I love you too,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly.
Overcome by emotion, he caressed my cheek. I placed my hand over his, the warmth of our bodies intertwining. Gently, I slid his hand down my breasts. His fingers lingered on my pebbled nipples, sending tiny little electric bolts through my body. I was exhausted and beat up, but his touch never failed to awaken me, to arouse me.
I refused to look away even for a single moment. I could feel a gush of hot air emanate from him. He drew circles around my nipple. Usually, this would be the promise of undeniably raw sex, but we both knew I wasn’t up for it tonight. There was no hunger in his eyes… only love.
He brought his head down to my collar bone, and a moment later, I felt his teeth on my skin. Gentle, gentler than he had ever been. But it wasn’t a bite even. He was showing me that he was in perfect control of himself, that his usually ferocious hunger for me was subdued.
Then, he tenderly licked the spot, while his hand kept sliding down my belly. A smile of anticipation tugged at the corners of my lips. My thighs parted easily, as always. I could feel his fingertip moving back and forth gently, arousing me even more.
I wanted more. Always more.
But he was in no rush, which was unusual. We always craved each other. We made love, but it was needy, hungry. This time, he was tender with me, caressing every inch of my body reverently with his fingers, with his breath, with his eyes. I didn’t think I ever loved him more than at this very moment.
His finger slid into me slowly, gently. I moaned, arching my back. I went for his hand without thinking, keeping it in place. I craved what he was offering, the pleasure that he always gave me.
He added another finger, penetrating me deeper, sliding in and out. My entire body tensed. With each of his thrusts, a small explosion of pleasure took hold of me, as warm water surrounded my body. I could barely withstand the combination of his fingers, arched at just the right angle and his tongue on my collar bone.
I closed my eyes, parting my thighs even more, as much as the tub allowed, listening to the sound of splashing water, accompanying the movement of his hand, the sliding of his fingers. I completely let go, knowing that I was safe with him, that he loved me as much as I loved him.
Pleasure didn’t come as a blast, as it usually did. This time, pleasure was a warm embrace, enveloping me from all sides, filling my mind with the ecstasy of a million little stars expanding through my mind’s eye. My insides pulsated, absorbing the sensation, and Lucas knew not to move. He knew to remain close, there, present… mine.
When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. I smiled blissfully, feeling that familiar sleepiness take over. He smiled back, and we remained like that for what seemed like a small eternity.
The water clung to my skin as Lucas reached down, his strong arms lifting me out of the tub. The air felt colder now, and I shivered, curling closer to his chest as he carried me.
“It’s all right,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ve got you.”
I let my head rest against his shoulder. My limbs felt heavy, my body too tired to hold itself up. I didn’t even flinch when he set me down on the chair beside the fire, wrapping a thick towel around me.
He knelt in front of me, his hands moving carefully, drying my arms and shoulders first. The towel was soft, the heat from the fire warming it as he worked, but it was his touch that soothed me most.
Gentle. Reverent. As if I were something precious.
“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his dark eyes flicking up to meet mine.
“I think I forgot how to feel safe.” My voice barely rose above a whisper.
He stilled, his fingers brushing over my wrist. “You are safe. Here. With me.”
I wanted to believe him. And maybe I did. But the ache in my chest—the fear I hadn’t let myself fully feel—still lingered.
I didn’t say anything else. He didn’t push. Just kept moving the towel over my skin, down my legs, drying every inch of me with care.
When he finished, he stood and pulled one of his shirts from the trunk near the bed. It was too big, the fabric soft and worn. He slipped it over my head, guiding my arms through the sleeves before tugging it down.
It smelled like him.
The thought made my eyes burn, but I blinked quickly, not wanting to fall apart… not now when everything was seemingly alright.
“Come on.” He scooped me up again, as if I weighed nothing, and carried me to the bed.
The sheets were cool against my skin as he laid me down, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders. His hands lingered there for a moment, brushing over my hair, my cheek.
I wanted to stay awake, to keep feeling him close, but the exhaustion was too much. My body sank into the mattress, the warmth of the fire lulling me deeper.
I felt his lips brush my forehead, and I barely managed to whisper, “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice rough but certain.
That was the last thing I heard before sleep pulled me under, but it wasn’t long before I woke with a start.
The room was dark, lit only by the dying embers of the fire. Shadows stretched across the walls, long and twisted, but it wasn’t the darkness that made my heart race. It was the dream. The memory.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. My skin felt damp, and my pulse thudded in my ears. Beside me, Lucas slept soundly, his arm draped protectively over my waist. The rise and fall of his chest was slow and steady, grounding me. But it wasn’t enough to silence the images still flickering in my mind.
The witch.
Her face was clearer now. Pale and sharp, framed by dark hair. Her eyes burned like embers, filled with power and desperation. I could still hear her voice, layered and echoing, as if it came from somewhere far away.
You are the key. My blood, my burden. Protect them.
I swallowed hard, the words curling around me, squeezing tight. I didn’t understand them. I didn’t understand her. But I knew what she meant. Her magic had sealed Aurelius away, binding him with blood and sacrifice.
And now, her blood… my blood… was the key to undoing it.
I shivered, pulling the blanket higher, but it didn’t help.
I turned my head, looking at Lucas. Even in sleep, he looked strong, unshaken. Like nothing could touch him. But I’d seen the fear in his eyes earlier, no matter how hard he’d tried to hide it. He was terrified of losing me.
And I was terrified too.
I closed my eyes, but the witch’s face was still there, her words ringing louder, clearer. Protect them.
What if I couldn’t? What if I wasn’t strong enough?
I bit my lip to keep the fear at bay, but my body trembled anyway. Lucas stirred beside me, his arm tightening as if he could sense it. I wanted to wake him, to feel his touch and hear him tell me everything would be okay.
But I didn’t.
He needed rest, and I needed answers, answers I didn’t have.
I stayed there, staring at the ceiling, my mind chasing thoughts I couldn’t catch, until the fire finally died, and the room was swallowed by shadows.