Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
ELARIYA
With a primal snarl, Wolfe held up the remains of the beast and cast them down on the ground.
The other Skinwearers froze, their faces turned toward him.
The old man wasn’t smiling now.
Yes, bastard. Meet my husband.
Wolfe’s blue eyes blazed with enough fury to set the world on fire.
The Skinwearers had terrified me moments ago. Now they looked harmless.
And from the expressions on their ruined faces, they finally understood what true fear felt like.
They’d just become prey.
“Get me that sword!” the old man cried.
Although the Skinwearers looked terrified, they obeyed.
With a savage snarl, Wolfe met them, ready for battle.
He tore the head off the first one to crash into him, clean from its shoulders, then followed suit with the same ruthless tactic.
No blade. No weapons. Just his hands.
It didn't matter how many came at him, nothing slowed him.
Nothing stopped him.
Every action was delivered with brutal efficiency.
When my head stopped spinning, I retrieved Yuilandria and pushed myself upright, fully intending to help. But there was nothing for me to do.
The Skinwearers weren't fighting anymore. They were dying.
One by one, they fell beneath Wolfe's fury until the clearing grew quiet once more.
Silence settled over the carnage and pieces of bodies littered the blood-stained grass.
Only one Skinwearer remained.
The old man by the rock.
Wolfe turned toward him, and the man’s beastly form trembled. All his bravado was gone.
"You are Death," the man stuttered.
Wolfe walked right up to him, a cold smile dancing across his lips. "Pleasure to meet you."
The old man's eyes widened. Wolfe seized him by the throat, fingers digging into his sinewy flesh. The shrill scream barely had time to form before Wolfe tore him in half.
Blood sprayed across the rocks.
Wolfe threw the two halves that remained of the man on the ground and silence returned to the clearing once more.
I stayed where I was, watching Wolfe. He stood there for a moment, gazing at the remains of the creature and the human skin he’d been wearing.
Wolfe was covered in blood from head to toe; even his wings were dripping with it. There was so much I couldn’t even see the tattoos that marked his arms and sides.
He was wearing pants that were ripped at the knees. That hadn’t come from the fight. He’d arrived like it. Usually, when he transformed into a Deathwalker, his clothes remained intact, but this last spell had been so bad his shirt must have been eaten away along with parts of his pants.
But…
It was really him. I wasn’t looking at that hollow nightmare thing.
He’d changed back and was my husband again. Whatever mercy this Godsforsaken realm had given us had worked.
I knew it wasn’t a complete cure. But it was … something. Something my poor heart needed. And, gods, it leapt at the anticipation of hope despite knowing how mad he was going to be at me.
Wolfe didn’t look at me yet—a sure sign I was right about him being mad. He was furious.
He’d been clear, even if I didn’t understand his growls, that we weren’t going anywhere. That meant leaving the safety of the cave. He also knew I didn’t agree.
I prayed he didn’t think I was going to escape and leave him here. Surely, he wouldn’t think I’d go through all that I’d done to leave.
He could feel my gaze on him. I knew he could.
And somehow, he must have sensed my thoughts. His wings turned to smoke, then they were gone. Still, he didn’t look at me.
Instead, he walked down to the river bank and deep into the water to wash the blood and gore from his body.
Moments later, he emerged from the river, his long dark hair slick against his skin. Water traced the hard lines of his muscular chest and shoulders, and for a heartbeat, I forgot all the reasons that brought us here.
When his eyes found mine, I forgot how to breathe.
He made his way back to me, his eyes scanning my body with scrutiny. He looked at Yuilandria in my hand, examined her hilt and the sleekness of her blade. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted back to me.
Yes. I was certain he was pissed as fuck. He’d given me that scathing look many times and then some.
He walked right up to me, towering over me and swallowing my personal space. Did I even have that anymore? Did that matter when you were married to a person who felt like the other half of your soul and you shared everything?
It didn’t matter to me. And I didn’t care if he bitched at me, either. I was so happy to see him like this, tears pricked the backs of my eyes.
I had to say something, though. I’d put us both in danger. Behold the carnage.
I’d be dead if he hadn’t come, eaten by the Skinwearers, and they’d be running around the Interstice with a magical sword.
“I desperately needed water. And you were asleep.” I studied his face. The heavy scowl didn’t lift. Better to leave out the part about trying to contact the others.
A few seconds passed, and he didn’t even blink a response. Wolfe simply stared back at me.
“I can’t be kept in a glass house, Wolfe,” I continued. “I’m a lot stronger now. It was even my idea to break you out of the Citadel.”
I thought for sure he’d say something about that. But no. I was met with even more silence.
“I know I had the others and it was crazy to go out on my own, but as you can see, I was mostly dealing with it,” I rattled on, pointing to the Skinwearers I’d killed. “I took down a lot of them before you arrived.”
In relation to the hoard he’d eliminated, none of that mattered.
Wolfe clenched his jaw, looked me up and down again, and took my sword, then, before I could protest, he scooped me into his arms.
I yelped, caught off guard. I was about to argue that I could walk on my own but stopped myself. Because this—him holding me, carrying me—felt nice.
He started back toward the cave, and I pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. The subtle beat and his skin against mine were everything I needed.
He carried me back to the cave silently, gazing forward. The journey back was quicker than my venture out, so it took next to no time.
Once we got back inside our little hideaway, Wolfe set me down and placed the sword by the wall I’d slept against.
When he straightened, we gazed at each other. The hard look in his eyes hadn’t softened, and I hated that he hadn’t said a word to me.
There was so much to say. So much to talk about.
He’d changed back. Was he feeling like himself? Did he know how long it would last? Was I even right about this place and the neutral current here healing him?
How could he be silent?
“I’m sorry I went out,” I muttered, searching his eyes. “Can we at least talk, or, gods, argue. I know I shouldn't have left. I—”
The rest of my apology died as he shut me up with a searing kiss.
Gods, the force of it stole my breath.
He kissed me, demanding and desperate all at once. Every ounce of frustration, fear, and relief he'd been bottling up poured into that single kiss.
His warm mouth tasted like coming home and every hope, wish, and dream I’d ever had.
Then he pulled away and cupped my face, gazing deeply into my eyes. His blue gaze was still brimming with tension, but beyond it lurked that look of love that was only for me.
His hands framed my face as though he needed to reassure himself I was real. That I was here. And alive.
I saw the truth then. The truth beyond his rage.
I'd scared him.
“Ziyka,” he rasped, his voice husky with desire that roused my own. “You make me fucking crazy. I’m always caught between wanting to shout at you or fuck you. Right now, I’m choosing the latter.”
Warmth spread through me, spiking my blood, and I could think of nothing better than having him buried deep inside me. “Then fuck me.”
My back hit the stone wall as his lips returned to mine with maddening need.
A low, feral sound rumbled from his chest and vibrated through me.
He deepened the kiss, fierce and possessive, leaving no room for apologies or excuses, only the frantic reminder that we'd found each other again.
The elation that came whenever Wolfe kissed me like this was way better than any bliss I’d ever found in my life.
He was more than life itself.
The other half of my soul. I never wanted to be without him ever again. My head swam with that thought swirling through my mind, and I kissed him back with the same ache gripping my soul. I wanted him to know how I felt. I wanted him to feel it, always.
“You are my home,” he muttered over my lips, right in the middle of a ravenous kiss.
It was as though he’d heard me.
“I feel you.” He paused, pressing his forehead to mine. “I hear you. You are the other half of my soul, too, Lady Nightblade.”
Gods, he could hear me.
The bond. Our bond was working, finally. I smiled. “I can’t hear you.”
“Because…” His smile turned wicked, and he lightly stroked my cheeks with the tips of his thumbs. “I don’t want to share those thoughts with you, wife. They’re too dirty. I’d rather show you.”
I bit back a smile.
Wolfe crushed his lips back to mine mercilessly. I arched my back, melting into him, wanting to take everything he had to give me.
He ran his hands through my hair, loosening my bun so my waves tumbled down my shoulders. His hand slid to my shirt next, grabbing the hem so he could yank it over my head.
He pulled away again, that sinful smile still on his lips as he undid my pants and rolled them down my legs.
He continued disrobing me, leaving only my underwear that he ripped away in one swipe, exposing my naked body to the cool air.
Greedily, he looked me over. My nipples puckered from the intensity of his stare. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Nothing and no one in any realm or existence compares to you.”
I panted, his tone stirring chaos inside me. “Wolfe....”
“Shhhh. Just feel me, Ziyka. I’ve wanted you so badly.”
His eyes stayed riveted to mine as he pressed me against the wall and lowered his head slowly to pepper kisses across the top of my breasts. Then he took my right nipple into his mouth and sucked deep.