by Rosalie Redd
Wynne hurried across the floor, her flats clacking. In the modest bathroom, she found gauze, tape, and some astringent under the sink. She quickly returned to Zain.
He sat in the chair, his back to the book. His attention rose from her feet to her features in a leisure sweep. Her cheeks heated at his perusal.
She set the medical supplies on the table then knelt next to him, dabbed some astringent on the gauze, and wiped at the wound.
He stiffened but didn’t emit a sound. Respect for him slipped through that crack in her heart, widening the gap.
She pushed her feelings aside and glanced at the marred tissue on his chest. “How did you get that scar?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his gaze drifted to the picture on the dresser. “It’s not important.”
A heaviness settled onto her shoulders, and she pinched her lips together. Fast and efficient, she placed gauze over the wound and taped it to his skin. Refusing to meet his stare, she gathered up the trash and stood.
Zain gripped her wrist, stopping her. “I received the scar the first time I killed an innocent human.”
A prickle tracked from the base of Wynne’s neck all the way down her spine and along her arms and thighs. He was a fae, the enemy, and killed humans on a nightly basis. How could she have forgotten?
The bloodied gauze in her hand slipped to the floor. Heat flushed through her body, and she whirled on him. “How many humans have you killed?”
Zain rose, his height and massive build dwarfing her. “More than I can count.”
She turned her back on him and marched to the fireplace. The bracelet on her arm glowed in the firelight, a stark reminder of her muted powers and his control over her. Anger burst like a firecracker in her soul. The ground shook. Pebbles fell from the ceiling and pinged on the table, the floor, the dresser.
“I see you’ve returned to loathing me.” He strode behind her, the warmth of his skin seeping into her. “Hate me if you will but understand the full story before you do.”
She turned to face him. The urge to pummel her fists against him was more than she could bear, and she shook from the force of fighting her impulse.
“What could you possibly tell me that would change my impression of you?” She clenched her fists at her side.
A pained expression flitted over his features before they hardened. “I have a special skill. I see people’s auras. Good, bad, a little of both, and all colors of the rainbow. Thought all fae had this ability. I was wrong.”
He stroked his fingers through his hair. The silky black strands glistened in the firelight and cascaded around his shoulders. He looked like an angel. How unfair was that?
“After I killed the innocent young man on his way home from his girlfriend’s house, an agony I can’t describe rippled over my chest. The pain brought me to my knees and left me with this scar.” He touched the blemish, an indentation that tracked from his shoulder to the center of his pec.
“After that, I hunted humans with dark auras, the ones that preyed on other humans. All of them became fae.” He inhaled and met her gaze. The green in his hazel eyes seemed to glow. “I’ve kept that secret to myself until tonight.”
The ramifications pinged through Wynne’s mind. He’d shared his secret with her, and although he’d killed, he’d taken out humans that lived on the edge, those that harmed others. Did that warrant his actions? Her confused emotions were a jumbled mess. She stared into the fire, searching for answers.
“How did you become a fae?” The whisper slipped from her lips.
“I…”
When he didn’t continue, she glanced at him.
His gaze rested on the picture once again. The cords in his neck bunched, and he rubbed his fist in his palm.
What had Zain gone through? Empathy for him swelled deep inside. She didn’t want to care for him, but she couldn’t deny what was in her heart.
“Tell me,” she encouraged.
He paced to the dresser and grasped the picture in his hand. A chagrinned smile tugged at his strained features. “How does one become a fae? Carefully.”
She strode closer to him and glanced at the black and white photo of a woman, dressed in period clothes from the nineteen twenties, sitting in an old Ford. Mouth open in laughter, her face gleamed.
“She seems happy. Who was she?” Wynne asked.
“My wife, Agatha. I’d just bought her that car.” Zain exhaled, and his brow drew low over his eyes. “She was only happy when I showered her with gifts.”
Memories of Zain bringing Wynne the blanket and the sweater zipped through her mind, and for the briefest moment, she wondered about the similarities, but pushed the thoughts aside and focused on him. “Did you love her?”
“Yes. At least I thought I did. She was my neighbor, and we grew up together.” He placed the picture back on the dresser. “When I was eight, I had to quit school to help my father around the farm. She continued on with her schooling, graduating high school. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t smart enough in her eyes. She only married me after I won several fights in the ring and had enough money to buy her anything she wanted. And I did. Good thing we never had kids.”
“She held your illiteracy over you, didn’t she?”
Zain features tightened, and he nodded. “She called me ‘stupid.’”
That’s why he hadn’t learned to read. His wife had belittled him into thinking he wasn’t smart enough. Hatred for this woman burned the back of Wynne’s eyes.
She placed her hand on his arm. “You’re smart. I see it in your actions and the words you choose. Besides, you’ve come a long way in learning to read in such a short time. Not everyone could do that.”
“You should hear the rest of the story before you say nice things about me. Things I don’t deserve.”
Wynne’s heart ached at his response, but she removed her hand. “Tell me then.”
He studied the picture once again, grasped the frame and set it face down. A tic pulsed to life in his jaw. After a long moment, when only the crackle of the fire filled the room, he cleared his throat. “One night, my opponent caught the flu. The fight was canceled. I returned home early and found Agatha in bed with another man. It was James, a trainer from my gym.”
Zain palmed his fist, the muscles in his arms tense with strain. A far-off look clouded his eyes.
Wynne stepped closer, invading his personal space. She stroked her fingers down his arm and clasped her fingers over his. “Go on.”
Zain’s Adam’s Apple bobbed, once, twice, three times. “James and I fought. The oil lamp fell off the nightstand. Flames tracked up the curtains. Agatha tried to stop me. A stray elbow, I don’t know if it was mine or James’s, knocked her to the ground. She groaned then passed out. I punched James until he staggered into the wall and slid to the floor. The urge to kill him right then and there was more than I could handle, so I ran outside.”
Zain stared into Wynne’s eyes, pinched lines between his brows. “The flames engulfed the house. I had time to return, save one or maybe even both of them. I just stood there.”
“You were in shock—”
“No.” A self-deprecating laugh burst from him. “I made the conscious choice to let them burn. A few months later, an opponent knocked me to the ground in the ring. He pummeled me before the refs tore him away. I died in the hospital a few hours later.”
Wynne’s chest constricted, cutting off her airway and squeezing her lungs until spots formed in her vision. Zain had craved respect from the one person who should’ve loved him. He’d suffered so much.
“You can’t blame yourself for their deaths. The—”
“I’m a fae. Judgment was served.” He strode to the fireplace. His hair hung over his features, obscuring her view of him.
Wynne couldn’t believe it. He must’ve been in shock, finding his wife sleeping with another man, a co-worker, no less, and not many people would’ve jumped back into a burning house.
She squared her
shoulders. “I see the good in you and don’t believe for one minute that you’re evil.”
“Then you’re the only one.” His low voice traveled in the space between them, filled with an anguish that cracked open the shell around her heart and left a mark on her soul.
She rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him, her front to his back. “Zain, I care…”
Further words wouldn’t come. Zain had opened up to her, shared his secrets, and bared his soul. With his thoughtful gifts and considerate actions, he’d shown her in his own way that he cared.
Although he was a fae, he was nothing like her father. The urge to share her paternity with him rested on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She didn’t want to deal with the ramifications or the look of pity in his eyes.
As she gripped his firm waist and rested her head against his muscular back, a tear slipped from her lashes and landed on her cheek. This was happening way too fast, but she no longer denied what was in her heart.
She had fallen for Zain, good and hard. She had fallen for a fae, her enemy. Dear goddess, she had fallen for one of the most unattainable of men.
CHAPTER 23
Z ain’s throat tightened at Wynne’s kindness. He stared into the fire, the yellow flames tipped with blue dancing through the wood like a sprite playing hide and seek. Wynne embraced him from behind, and her warmth seeped into his skin. She’d thought him smart.
Muscles tight, he forced himself to breathe. Esteem from others in the past had always revolved around his brute force. Intelligence? Not so much. She believed in him, and that rocked him to his core, shaking loose a craving for her he couldn’t ignore.
He turned to face her and clasped her hands. With tenderness swelling in his heart, he raised her right hand, brought her knuckles to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss along her soft skin.
She gasped. Her beautiful mouth parted, and the tip of her tongue slid along her full, plump, bottom lip. A rush of blood headed south, and a growl rumbled in his throat. He settled his hand on her waist and tugged her close.
Squealing, she pressed her palms on his chest. Sparks flicked from her fingertips, and his skin tingled from the contact.
With his free hand, he brushed a few stray hairs away from her beautiful eyes that also reflected kindness. A brilliant shade of deep blue, they mesmerized him. “Seems there are sparks between us.”
A sultry smile played along her lips. “Are there?”
He captured her mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss, showing her what she meant to him. The softness of her lips and the brush of her tongue against his was a balm to his battered soul. He shouldn’t allow this to continue, but selfish bastard that he was, he couldn’t stop himself.
Instead, he gripped her firm backside and drew her against his hard length. She needed to know exactly what he had in mind.
Wynne stiffened for a moment then a shiver rippled through her, and she threaded her fingers into his hair. Her sharp nails scratched his scalp, marking him in her own way. The exquisite pain and her bold initiative stoked the fire burning between them into an inferno.
“Too hot.” She broke their kiss, her panting breaths tickling his neck. With more force than he thought her capable, she pressed against his chest and tugged at her shirt. “Need this off.”
“Allow me.” He grasped the edge of her sweater and ripped it over her head. The material landed on the chair before sliding to the floor.
A dark blue bra with a bow between the cups captured her full, tempting breasts. He stroked his thumb along the seam, and as he passed over her nipple, the tip hardened.
Wynne inhaled. “Now who’s teasing whom?”
The sparkle in her eyes fueled the blaze inside him. His lungs expanded to the point of pain, and deep inside, in the far reaches of his heart, a kernel of hope grew. Could she love him? He wanted her to with a passion that scared him.
Without waiting for a reply, she reached behind and unclasped her bra. The cloth slid to the floor. Full and heavy, her beautiful breasts swelled as she breathed.
“Lovely. Absolutely lovely.” He stroked his fingers along one breast and circled her nipple with his thumb. The nub hardened into a taut peak.
Wynne shivered, and her hands landed on his biceps. “Zain…”
He captured her in another kiss, and her breasts pressed against his chest. The skin on skin contact lit up his senses, driving his need to please her in every way possible.
Not wanting to wait any longer, he slid one arm under her legs and cradled her in his arms.
A short squeal burst from her lips then morphed into a laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Moving to a more comfortable place.” He strode across the room and settled her onto his bed.
Wynne’s blonde hair cascaded like golden wings over the pillow, her lips were plump and full from his ardent kisses, and desire for him gleamed in her eyes. Her beauty stalled the breath in his lungs. He’d do anything for her.
Anything at all.
She smiled at him and unzipped her pants in a slow tease. He crawled onto the bed, gripped the clothing, and slid them over her ample hips and strong, firm thighs. Exposed to him, she was fully naked. He took in every inch of skin from her red toenails and her delicate ankles to her flat waist and full breasts, his gaze coming to rest at last on her beautiful eyes.
The look of reverence embedded within those baby blues sent a shiver over his shoulders and down his spine. As much as he craved her respect, he would never be worthy of her, but he’d give her every ounce of his dedicated attention and love.
Love? He inhaled.
Their relationship had progressed faster than he’d ever imagined, but deep in the recesses of his soul, he couldn’t ignore the truth. He loved this witch with his heart, body, mind, and soul.
“What is it?” Wynne furrowed her brow and rose to her elbows.
“Your beauty takes my breath away,” he whispered.
She smiled, her features lighting up brighter than the sun. Determination glinted in her eyes, and she tugged at his shoulder. “Come here.”
He did as she asked, crawling up the length of the bed until he hovered over her. She ran her fingers along his chest, leaving tiny tendrils of energy in her wake. His beautiful witch reached his abdomen, and he stilled.
She yanked on his jeans. “These need to come off now.”
A deep, satisfying breath filled his lungs. With the swiftness imbedded in him by his god, he leapt from the bed, toed off his boots, and popped the buttons on his jeans. The material slid down his legs along with his underwear, and he tossed them aside.
Wynne’s soft inhale echoed in the space between them. “Oh, dearest Rhiannon, help me.”
The muscles in Zain’s entire body tensed. Had Wynne changed her mind?
Wynne slapped her palm over her mouth. Had she really uttered those words? But, by the goddess, Zain’s erection jutted from him, long, firm, and proud. Ridged veins snaked along the length, and a drop of arousal glistened on the rounded, crown-like tip.
He was so large, she wasn’t sure she could take him. She forced herself to swallow and met his gaze.
His forehead wrinkled. Vulnerability reflected in his beautiful hazel eyes.
Her heart trip-hammered. Fear that he’d misinterpreted her intention skittered along her nerves with each beat.
“You’re more than I expected. In more ways than one.” A giggle slipped past her lips.
Zain’s features softened, that devilish smile of his returning. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
His chipped tooth, the one he’d earned in the ring, reminded her of all he’d endured. Her eyes filled with tears. She’d show him through her touch and her kisses that she cared and respected him.
He slid onto the bed with the grace of a large predator, his attentive gaze never leaving hers. Prickles tracked over her arms, and she shivered.
Zain placed his forearms on either side of her head and nudge
d his knee between her thighs. She opened up to him, enjoying his masculine strength. As he hovered over her, the ends of his dark hair tickled her shoulders, and the tip of his crown bobbed against her lower abdomen.
Warm wetness coated her sheath, and her nipples tightened.
“I want to admire you for eternity.” Zain’s low voice crackled with reverence.
Wynne melted for him, right then and there, and gods, the look in his eyes made her think that maybe, just maybe, she was the most important thing in his life.
She trailed a fingertip over the diamond stud along his nose. “I’ll settle for tonight.”
“Feisty, tempting witch.”
Before she could blink, he slipped his arms under her shoulders, flipped onto his back, and drew her on top of him.
She yelped, a flush of adrenaline tingling through her body. His warmth settled into her skin, and his long, firm erection rested hard and hot between them. He lavished her with kisses, and she threaded her hands through his thick hair. The sensual movement of their bodies, their hot, panting breaths, and the rustling of the sheets shrouded them in a blanket of desire.
When they came up for air, Zain cupped her chin in his palms. He tracked his gaze over her features, as if memorizing every detail.
She pursed her lips. “Why did you stop?”
“I want you to understand something.” He placed a barely-there kiss on her lips that sent a tingle all the way to her toes. “You’re in charge tonight.”
She studied him for a long moment. Strength and determination lined his features, and in the depths of his eyes reflected a deep appreciation. He cared enough to place control in her hands.
Wynne’s heart broke open for this wonderful, adoring male. Tears threatened. She didn’t want him to see how much he’d affected her, so she blinked them away. He swept his fingers over her shoulders and down her back until he captured her bottom in his palms. With a gentle squeeze, he tugged her closer.
She kissed him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. The friction teased her nipples, and they hardened against his smooth, heated skin. His erection pulsed in the space between them, and a groan escaped him.
