She ground herself against his groin, meeting him stroke for stroke with a heated demand that matched his own. And that, too, made him smile.
“I love you, Darling,” she breathed.
Those words ripped him apart. They gave him a strength he’d never known before. Most of all, they weakened him. She owned him, body and soul.
For her, he would kill.
For her, alone, he would die.
And when he came a second later, he cried out from the sheer force of it and the intense emotions she made him feel against his will.
Damn her for it!
Zarya smiled at the fierce sound of his release as he shuddered against her. He’d never done that before. Never. Not once in the entire history of their relationship.
And now she knew exactly why he’d never made a sound before.
Nylan, and others, had humiliated him over it. Made him beg to be touched when all he wanted to do was run away.
Could it possibly be that she’d helped him heal that part of his past?
I hope so.
She would give anything if she could erase those horrible memories…
His breathing ragged, he collapsed against her, pinning her to the bed. He let out a contented sigh, then went completely limp against her.
She reveled in having his weight press her into the mattress. “Did you fall asleep on me?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I just want to be inside you for a few minutes longer.”
“Feel free to stay there as long as you want.”
He smiled against her shoulder as he brushed a callused hand over her skin. “We’re going to look really strange trying to walk around like this.”
“That we would.”
Darling kissed her on the cheek before he pulled away.
Still, he wouldn’t let her turn on the lights. Instead, he took her hand into his, and there in the dark, he slid something cold onto her finger.
Zarya froze as she mentally flashed back to the last time they’d been together before his torture. Back to the night he’d proposed to her. “What is—”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I want to try again with you, Zarya. Will you marry me?”
Tears stung her eyes as her love for him overwhelmed her. But it was the uncertainty in his voice that really made her ache. How could he doubt her feelings for him after all they’d been through? “You know the answer to that. Of course I will.”
“Then you can turn on the light and see what you’re going to be tied to. If you change your mind, I won’t hold it against you. I’ll definitely understand.”
She blinked back her tears. “I don’t need the light to see you, Darling. Your heart shines brighter than any sun ever could.” She reached for his face.
He dodged her hands, then flipped the lamp on.
Since he had his back to her all she could see were the scars marring his skin. The assassin skull and snake tattoo on his shoulder… She ran her fingernails up his spine until she buried her hand in his soft red hair.
He kept his head bent so that his hair fell over his face. His entire body was tense as if he dreaded her reaction. How could he fear her being so petty?
A part of her wanted to tell him she was pregnant, but she hesitated. Assuming Nero was right, she wasn’t even far enough along for it to show up on a pregnancy test.
Not to mention, Darling had enough to cope with right now. She didn’t want to burden him with anything more.
Bracing herself for the worst, she brushed the hair back from his right cheek, then froze at what she found there.
He swallowed hard before he glanced up sheepishly.
For a full minute she couldn’t speak as she stared into his all but perfect features. It was incredible. There was only a faint telltale scar over the left side of his face from where he’d fought with Ryn. Barely noticeable now.
She cupped his face in her hands as she studied him. It was like meeting a stranger.
He had another faint scar at the top of the right arch of his lips where one of the worst injuries had been caused by the muzzle they’d forced on him. And a hairline scar just over his left brow.
But there was no trace of Pip’s name or any of the other scars that had been so deep and painful.
Swallowing hard, he licked his lips. “Are you okay with me?”
Was she okay? Was he serious?
Syn had done the most amazing job ever. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined how good-looking Darling really was. While he did share features with Drake, his were definitely more refined and masculine.
“You’re beautiful.”
He pulled his long hair down over the left side of his face. “It’s better, but—”
“Darling… you can’t see the scars.”
“Yes, you can.” He brushed his hand over his right cheek where Pip had carved his name. “It’s better though. But they’re all still there.”
Her heart broke for him and the fact that they were so branded in his mind that even with them gone, he still saw them clearly. “No, baby, they’re not.”
“I’m not
that
blind, Z. I know they’re still there.” Suddenly, his eyes started jerking back and forth—something they did whenever he was really stressed. He pulled away from her so that he could lie down and close them. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids as if that would somehow magically make them stop.
Tears choked her. “Darling, you really can’t see them. I swear it.”
Darling wanted to believe her. He did, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how people treated those who were disfigured. Those who were broken.
They were cruel and mean.
Most of all, they were unforgiving.
And soon he’d have to face the gerents and hear all their bullshit…
I should have killed more of them.
On second thought, he should have killed them all.
A knock intruded on his thoughts.
“You rest.” Zarya reached over him to get her robe and wrap it around her…
Covering himself with a blanket, he tried to read the clock, but his eyes wouldn’t stop jumping long enough for him to focus.
“Did I hear Darling come in?” Ryn asked from the doorway.
“He’s resting.”
“I know it’s late, but it’s really important. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Let him in, Z.” Darling kept his eyes closed, but he could sense Ryn moving into the room until he was next to his bed.
“Wow,” Ryn said in an awed tone. “Syn did a great job. They’re completely gone. How do you feel?”
He was still a little sore—like he’d worked out too hard, but the medicine had done a remarkable job of healing him. “I’ve felt worse. So what’s got you stirred up in the middle of the night?”
Ryn made a sound of irritation. “Fain just shot over an e-mail that’s been circulating through everyone’s in-box. I thought you needed to know about it.”
Darling’s gut clenched.
Please don’t let it be that fucking video again.
While it’d been years since a copy had shown up—thanks to Syn’s tech skills—Darling had always lived with the fear that someone would rerelease it. “What’s it about?”
Ryn handed him his mobile.
“I can’t read it right now. I’ve got a bad headache.” He should probably tell his brother the truth about his eyesight, but the fewer people who knew about a weakness that could kill him, the better.
Ryn took it back. “Fine, I’ll read it…” He cleared his throat. “ ‘The governor is the most sadistic bastard to ever breathe our beloved Caronese air. Every second he lives is an affront to any decent being in this universe. As all of you know, the League will
not help us. Not while he and the rest of the noxious aristos pay them to turn a blind eye to their murderous crimes. The governor is so sadistic and cruel that his own guards refuse to do their due diligence and protect him. His gerents live in fear of his wrath and insanity. Reliable sources have told me how they cower at the mere mention of his name. And well they should. I have witnessed both firsthand, and I bear the bruises and wounds to prove it. Every night I bleed anew from his incessant beatings and every morning, his staff is forced to clean my blood from the walls and floors while I am kept as his own personal pet to be tortured at his leisure. I beg you, my brothers and sisters, to rally as much fire as you can to help me forever end the reign of Cruel. Ever your leader…” Ryn paused for effect, “Zarya Starska.”
She gasped as Ryn finished.
Bitterly amused, Darling opened his eyes to stare at her as best he could. “Something you need to tell me, sweetie?”
Zarya was aghast at his nonchalant tone and his question. Horror filled her. “I didn’t write that. I swear!”
Ryn handed his mobile to her. “It’s a scan of someone’s handwriting. You recognize it?”
Her jaw went slack as she read the words that she’d never even considered writing. “It looks like mine, but it’s not. I haven’t touched a computer except to read it or hand it to Darling.” Terrified of what he must think, she met Darling’s unstable gaze. “Darling, I promise you that—”
“Relax, Z. I’m not stupid.” He closed his eyes and covered them with his arm. “If you wanted me dead, you’ve had more than enough chances to kill me. Instead, you saved my life, and I’m pretty sure the shower incident was an accident.”
Relieved at his sanity, she sat down on the bed, then returned the mobile to Ryn. “Thank the gods you’re reasonable.”
Ryn scoffed at her. “Yeah well, that doesn’t change the damage
this thing is doing to his tarnished reputation. It’s gone viral as hell. The civs and the Resistance believe it’s real, especially since someone posted photos of your bathroom with broken glass and blood everywhere—including one of your nightgowns that was soaked in blood. And I have to admit, it’s gruesome. In response to those photos, the Resistance is sending out e-mails, saying that if you’re not released into their custody within a week, they’re going to bomb the palace, drag Darling out and set fire to him on the steps of the CDS building. Meanwhile, everyone—and I mean
everyone
—is panicking with fears of how many of them are going to die in the cross fire.”
Of course they were. Darling couldn’t blame them. He’d be worried, too, if he didn’t know the truth. “Do we know anything about this Hector who’s leading the Resistance?” he asked Zarya.
“We didn’t have a Hector.”
Ryn sighed in disgust. “You do now.”
Zarya sputtered. “Where did he come from?”
“I have Syn working on that.” Unfortunately, Darling had had to pull Syn off that research to repair his face.
Could the timing for all this suck more?
Probably.
But honestly, all he wanted to do was spend one sedate night with Zarya and forget about politics. Instead, he was forced to deal with unnecessary drama. And for what?
One man’s grab for power? Or some misguided humanitarian who believed the idiocy he spewed?
At the end of the day, the answer didn’t matter. He had to squelch this before it got any bigger. As Nyk would say,
Coura dona eck nonyun.
“A headless snake doesn’t strike.”
Darling let out a tired breath. “I’ll move the meeting to tonight and try to nip this shit before it worsens. If I take Zarya with me,
they can all see for themselves that she’s unharmed and not being held against her will.”
“All right, but I’m calling in some backup. Just in case.”
Zarya appreciated Ryn’s offer, but…“You know, the Tavali are going to stand out a bit at the CDS.”
“Not Tavali.” Ryn tucked his mobile in his pocket. “Sentella. No one will question if Nyk and Caillen are there.”
She liked that thought, and he was right. While they weren’t Caronese, they
were
aristos. It wasn’t unusual for foreign dignitaries to attend such meetings.
And there was another one who’d be even better than having them there. One who would know immediately if an attack on Darling was imminent. “What about Nero?”
A panicked look flashed across Ryn’s face before he caught himself. “You know about Nero?”
Afraid she might have given away Nero’s secret, she backpedaled. “Do
you
?”
Darling let out a short, bitter laugh. “If you’re asking about the family connection, Z, we know. It’s also why he can’t go near any aristo. If anyone recognizes him and who he really is, he’s screwed.”
“No,” Ryn corrected, “we’re talking beyond screwed to the infinite level. He’ll be hunted even worse than he already is.”
Zarya was trying to follow their conversation, but she was missing something. “Okay, now I think I’m lost. He’s your cousin. I don’t see why that would endanger him.” It seemed to her that being related to a family as powerful as the Cruels would be a major asset to anyone who wasn’t a Resistance member.
Ryn gave her a droll stare. “It’s not being our cousin that endangers him. He’s the last surviving member of the Trisani ruling family. Sole heir. In theory, he could petition the League to have his
family lands and money returned to him from the humans—and I use that term loosely—who stole it from them after they enslaved everyone he was related to, and locked him in prison.”
“Why doesn’t he?”