Authors: Diana Pharaoh Francis

Blood Winter (42 page)

BOOK: Blood Winter

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She broke Alexander’s lock on her gaze and looked up, blinking back the tears that burned in her eyes.
Stupid.

“You are wrong. I love all of you. I have no choice,” he told her softly, and a thorny ache blossomed in her chest.

“Oh, wow,” she said as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. She sniffed and turned so that he couldn’t see. “That was truly beautiful. Heartrending, really. Like when you have to eat your brussels sprouts in order to get your dessert. Or someone puts a gun to your head to steal your car. No choice at all. I am so fucking touched that I could just puke.”

He closed the distance between them, reaching out to brush a strand of hair gently from her cheek. She shook him off. Undaunted, he slid a hand down to cup her jaw and neck. He gently turned her to face him. She did not look up to meet his eyes. She was too fragile . . . exposed. Like a turtle on its back, its legs kicking in the air.

He refused to let her hide. His thumb pressed her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His lips were inches from hers. His breath was warm on her skin.

“I did not mean it like that,” he whispered, pleading. “I admit that I let the fear get the best of me. It was too much, and my mind locked down. I put my feelings for you in a box so that I would not go over the edge. I was close to going feral. Too close. I have been there once. I almost did not come back.

“Not caring felt good. I felt free. Joyful, even. I understood myself. I was in control. I had not felt that way since before I met you.”

“Sounds terrific, Slick. I can’t blame you.” She couldn’t, either. She could barely handle her feelings for Alexander and her grief over Niko and Simon. Half the time, she wanted to kill everybody in sight, and the rest of the time, she wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head, and cry like a colicky baby. Commitment of any kind made her panic. “I get it.”

“No,” he corrected, his thumb rubbing along her lower lip.

It sent shivers wobbling down through her gut.
Not fair.
She did not pull away.

“You
do not
understand. What I feel for you is too big to stay in a box for long. It was not long after the locks broke open that I understood.” His mouth curved, his eyes full of memory. “I went mad. Or maybe what happened was that I woke up from my madness. I realized that I could never walk away from you. I could never want to. There is no sanity without you. I am whole only with you.”

Her lips were dry. Max licked them, and his gaze fastened on the movement. The shivers in her stomach turned to shudders. His thumb stopped rubbing.

“I love you,” he said again. Third time. “Can you believe me?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek. Could she? More than that, could she trust him again?

Slowly, she reached up and traced the sides of his face with her fingertips. His body quivered beneath her touch. He was strung tight. She pushed up on tiptoe and touched her lips to his, light as gossamer. He remained rigid.

Then she pressed harder, her tongue tickling along the seam of his lips. They parted, and she continued her slow assault. Back and forth she feathered. She flicked her tongue in between his lips, tasting him, then withdrew. His chest heaved, and he inhaled sharply. Max grasped his face between her palms, pulling him to her. His fingers curled over her hips, but he still held himself away from her.

She teased along the edge of his lower teeth. She went slowly, tantalizing him with soft, delicate touches. She could feel his body shaking, and it matched the tremor inside her. She pulled back and nibbled his lower lip, then started back at the beginning, sliding her tongue sensuously along his lips. It was too much for him. He yanked her close. His hands roamed possessively up to her head and back down over her ass.

His kiss was demanding, desperate, apologetic. Max moaned into his mouth and slid her hands under his shirt. His skin was satin fire. He made a sound in his throat as her fingers glided up his back, over his shoulders and chest, and back along his ribs. His grip on her tightened convulsively. His tongue thrust inside her mouth. His greed for her was endless. Max delighted in the knowledge, pressing harder against him, as if she could climb inside his skin. Need for him seared her. She throbbed with want.

Abruptly, he pulled back. He was panting. He pressed his head against hers, his fingers fisting in the fabric of her shirt.

“Tell me,”
he grated. “Tell me you believe me. Believe
in
me.” That he wouldn’t let her down. That he wouldn’t break her heart again.

It wasn’t enough. There had to be more. He had to trust her, too.

Max stepped back, and the fear and uncertainty in his eyes flared. She took his hand. “Come on.”

She led the way back toward the dining commons. Alexander didn’t speak. His Prime was climbing toward the killing edge, and he was holding on to it with all his strength.

She came around a corner to find Thor and Tyler coming down the corridor.

“Perfect,” she murmured. She shot a look at them. “Stay there.”

“If we do, do we both get biscuits?” Tyler asked.

“Shut up,” she said, and turned to face Alexander. “Say it again.”

He frowned, his gaze boring into hers. “I love you.”

The words made him flush, and her heart rattled in her chest. She opened her lips to speak, but nothing came out.

“You do not have to say anything,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand.

“So I have your permission to be a coward?”

“You can be you,” he said simply, and she knew he wasn’t just talking about whether or not she could tell him she loved him. He was talking about all the rest, all the trouble and near-death experiences to come. This was his promise: he was not going to shut her out again.

It wasn’t enough. Not for her. It shouldn’t have been enough for him. It was a sign of how much he needed her, how much she could hurt him if she wanted to. That’s what had driven him away before. She knew that now. He was giving himself entirely into her power without demanding the same. Except that he had it. She just had to tell him.

It turned out the words were there after all.

She stood on tiptoe, nose-to-nose with him. She stared deep into his eyes. “I love you,” she said, loudly enough for Tyler and Thor to hear. She heard Alexander’s indrawn breath. His eyes widened. Then his arms clamped around her, lifting her off the ground and holding her tightly against him as he kissed her.

Max’s legs wrapped around his waist as she lost herself in his touch and taste.

“Ahem. Not to be rude, but weren’t we going to get some food? I don’t think the kind of eating you’re doing is going to be particularly filling,” Tyler said.

“On the contrary. It will be filling. For Max, anyhow,” Thor said.

Max snorted and pulled away. “You two are ruining the moment.”

“Oh, good. That means you’re done. Can we go eat now?” Tyler asked plaintively.

Max’s stomach growled, and she winced. Alexander grinned and set her down, pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

“You need food. I want you to be strong for later,” he said, his eyebrows lifting suggestively.

“Back atcha, Slick. I don’t want you running out of stamina.”

Tyler came up beside her and slung his arm around her neck. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to puke.”

“My, but you’ve got a weak stomach,” Max said.

“Naw, he’s just never been laid,” Thor said. “He’s scared of women and sex.”

“Ha! I’m legendary in bed,” Tyler retorted.

“Uh-huh. Just like Big Foot. A story that someone made up and no one believes.”

“You wound me.”

“Only because the truth hurts,” Max said.

“You, too?” Tyler said, his eyes dancing. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I need to help you see reality.”

“The reality is that women everywhere want me.” He leered.

Thor shook his head. “I think you’ve got it wrong, son. It isn’t women who want you but sheep. Sheep everywhere want you.”

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far. Now you’re going to pay. I demand a challenge. Sparring room, right after we eat. I’ll smear the floor with you.” He looked at Max and Alexander. “You can judge.”

“I don’t know,” Max said. “We were thinking of doing something a bit more private.”

Tyler waved his hand dismissively. “It can wait. You’ve got all the time in the world.”

All the time in the world.

Max grinned.

“Okay.”

DIANA PHARAOH FRANCIS
is the author of eleven fantasy novels—including the Horngate Witches series for Pocket Books—as well as many short stories. A teacher in the English Department at the University of Montana Western, she is a lover of chocolate, Victoriana, and sparkly things.

Visit her on the web at
www.dianapfrancis.com
and follow her on Twitter
@dianapfrancis
.