“It’s time to mean the words, my darling. As an unbreakable oath.”
Tears welled in wide dark eyes, her lower lip trembling. “Mama does not wish for this. She said—”
“I know.” Her father pulled her in to him. “But your mama can’t be here. I do not wish this either, but we have no choice. They will come for you if we don’t.”
“Who?” Alasdair asked, though he didn’t pull his gaze away. “Who will come?”
Still gripping her by the arms, he didn’t miss the way Delilah shifted in his grip. He turned to face her as she crept her hands up over her ears. “Don’t watch,” she whispered.
Her father began to chant, and the child, mimicking her parent, repeated a string of words, again in that known-yet-unknown language. Over and over, until suddenly she tipped her head back and screamed, even louder than before.
Thrashing in her father’s arms, the child clawed at the skin around her wrists, which turned red and blistered as Alasdair watched in horror. Through it all, her father didn’t relent, continuing to chant.
“Stop! Stop!” the child screamed. “It burns.”
“God’s above,” Alasdair whispered.
A tremor shook the woman he still gripped, and he pulled her in to his chest. Wrapping one arm around her, he tucked her head into the crook of his neck with the other hand at the back of her head, entwined in silky hair, no doubt disturbing the elegant styling. He held her as she whimpered through every blood-curdling second as the child version of her screamed in agony.
“It’ll be over soon,” he murmured into her hair but didn’t let her go. Not when she was shaking hard enough to rattle his teeth. He wasn’t that much of an asshole. Or maybe it had something to do with her…and him. But he wasn’t about to take that truth out and examine it any closer.
“No,” the woman in his arms moaned. “It’s not over yet.”
The words and the torment wrapped up in them pierced through layers he’d built over the years. Layers meant to keep him separate, keep him safe from the world. From others.
“Hell,” he muttered.
Taking her face in his hands, he lifted her chin. “Look at me.”
Delilah’s eyes fluttered open, dark eyes hazy. Miserable. Need reflected back at him. A silent plea to make this stop. Only he didn’t know how. His magic wasn’t accessible here. He’d tried.
Another screech from the child and Delilah scrunched her eyes closed. “Dammit.” Alasdair did the only thing he could think of. He brought his lips down over hers, claiming her lush mouth—something he’d fantasized about for months—in a desperate attempt to distract them both.
Beneath his touch, Delilah froze at the sudden contact. He expected her to pull away, maybe even knee him in the groin. She didn’t do either. Instead, her breathing hitched, then she melted into him, opening under his mouth, letting him in.
Mother goddess. He hardly noticed the sudden silence that surrounded them, too absorbed by the woman in his arms.
The kiss changed from hard possession, softening, slowing. The taste of cherries—sweet and tart—only added to the need growing within him. He savored her flavor and her small sighs. Sliding his hands down her arms, he wrapped his own around her, bringing her body up against his more fully, the scent of flowers surrounding him.
And she was there with him every step along the way, wrapping her arms around his neck, trying to get closer, sighs changing to whimpers. Not close enough.
This isn’t about me, a small voice whispered, bringing with it guilt on wings of forbearance This was about her. Protecting her from her past.
Forcing himself to stop, he slid his hands to her waist, meaning to set her back, step away. He even lifted his head. Only she went up on tiptoe, those soft warm lips chasing his, pulling him back in. This wasn’t what he’d meant to do, where he’d meant to take them. He should have enough control over himself to end this.
Instead, he balanced at the edge of need, ready to topple over into an abyss of wanting that he should be fighting. He shouldn’t be here.
She nipped at his lower lip, and Alasdair groaned, gathering her close again. Plundering her mouth, her body shifting against him in what had to be an unconsciously given invitation. Delilah would never allow herself that kind of vulnerability. Not with him, especially.
The realization gave him the strength he needed to lift his head. Jerk it up, more like. The actions of a desperate man.
The silence finally penetrated.
They still stood in her room in her castle home. Alone. The ghosts of her past gone. Not even the crackle of the fire disturbing the peace.
Then blackness. Like before.
All-consuming, although he could still feel Delilah in his arms. Stiffer now. The vulnerability from a second ago—in a way he never in a thousand years would have expected from her—gone. He didn’t need to be able to see her face to know she was regretting that kiss. Her body telegraphed that fact to him.
The blackness lifted as suddenly as it had descended. Only this time revealing a nighttime scene, and Alasdair stared at the familiar home they stood outside—aglow with strings of Christmas lights all along the roofline—his own dread descending like being buried alive, his heart thudding harder against his ribs.
No.
The word broke inside his head, and he had to swallow back the bile burning as it rose up his throat. Even though he still owned it, he’d never wanted to see this place again.
Gods, he should have guessed.
Tension rolled through him, gripping his muscles, stringing them so tightly, Delilah shifted against him on a murmured protest. Then stilled.
He could feel her stare, the questions rising in her. “Where are we?” she asked.
“Apparently it’s my turn.”
…
The man had kissed every lucid thought from her mind in the middle of the worst moment of her life and sent her body into a spiral of sensation that still gripped her like nothing before in her long, long life. Madness. Only she couldn’t think about that right now, because if Alasdair tensed any more, he’d snap like an Achilles tendon bearing too much strain. His expression one she could only describe as haunted.
Delilah glanced around them, wondering at the source of his sudden unease. They stood surrounded by mountains, towering sentinels in the dark. Snow on the ground, which oddly they couldn’t feel inside the vision beyond a general sense of cold. In front of them stood a massive mountain cabin that seemed to have been built around two sides of a large, clear pond. Moonlight illuminated the scene from outside while a warm glow from lamps inside beckoned her closer.
“Your turn?”