This time, instead of recoiling from the idea, he actually considered it as he watched her work. His sensitive hearing picked up the miniscule sounds of the ends of the hairpins scraping on the metal of the manacle. Her fingers jerked as the makeshift pick slipped, and she swore.
His gaze ran down the shapely curve of her hourglass back and lingered at her round, sweet ass.
Mine, he thought. He had lost so much of what had passed for a soul that not even he could tell if the thought was cold-blooded or heated.
You will be mine again. I’ll take you. I’ll make you want it.
I’ll make you want me again, at least for a while. Only this time I won’t wait for our different lifestyles to pull us apart, or for you to cheat again.
I’ll take you and make you mine, until I choose to walk away.
By sheer force of will, Melly forced her hands to remain steady as she tried again to pick the lock on the manacles.
On the one hand, this whole nightmare pretty much topped every other bad memory she’d ever had.
On the other hand, it was kind of a dream come true to have Julian hog-tied and at her mercy. She could get in his face and yell what the fuck until she got it all out of her system. Think of how cathartic that would be. Really, it could take her days.
The last occasion they had spent any significant time together was when he had broken up with her. She didn’t want to think about that right now, but her mind went there anyway.
He had been so icy and terse. The lover who had known her body and desires so intimately had vanished as if he had never existed, and the stranger who had taken his place had a face like a stone wall.
They had arranged to meet in Carmel, a charming coastal town in Monterey County. As she had spent the afternoon driving the scenic route through Big Sur, she had actually been daydreaming about leaving her life for him and living in that great, hulking pile of Machiavellian politics the Vampyres called Evenfall.
She had been amused by the idea, and optimistic, and not fifteen minutes later, he had accused her of cheating.
It had literally been a breathtaking experience. She had felt gut shot and utterly bereft. The confrontation devolved into a massive fight, while they hurled hurtful accusations at each other.
Funny. Looking back at it now, she couldn’t even remember most of what they had said to each other.
Blah blah stop lying to me, he had said. Blah blah, I can’t believe you won’t believe me! she had said.
Along with more stuff along those lines. Now whenever she recalled that night, her memory was blanketed in a haze of shock and pain, although shards of clarity still stabbed at her, like the memory of how he had looked at her as if he hated her, and the cold, clipped tone of his voice.
Months later, she approached Xavier. Her pain had turned to outraged fury, and she had long since decided she didn’t want to have anything to do with Julian. Anyone who could demonstrate such a lack of faith in her wasn’t anybody she wanted to be with. By that point, all she wanted were some answers.
How had Julian become so convinced she had cheated on him? Somebody had to have told him so. But if so, who – and why? Whoever it was, it had to be somebody Julian had trusted a hell of a lot more than he had trusted her…
If he had ever really trusted her.
Their liaison had only lasted a couple of months, but it had been unpopular to a lot of people. The Nightkind King together with the Light Fae heir heralded the possibility of a major shift in the balance in power in the North American Elder Races demesnes.
At the end of the day, what Melly really wanted was a name. She wanted to face her enemies, not have them in a position where they might be able to stab her in the back again.
But not even Xavier knew where Julian had gotten his information, and after that last terrible fight, she sure as hell wasn’t about to go to Julian and ask, because she deserved so much better than what he had thrown at her, so really, screw him.
Justine was right, Melly thought. Sadistic and crazy, but right. Julian’s dictatorial and arrogant, and inflexible doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s the most infuriating son of a bitch I’ve ever known, and I don’t even know why I’m fighting so hard to free him.
At that, she caught herself up. It was one thing to be angry at him – and she was extremely angry at him. But it was another thing entirely to indulge in such vindictive thoughts, especially when she didn’t even believe them herself, anyway.
TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT ME TO DO, AND I’LL DO IT! he had roared.
He might still look and act like he hated her, but when Justine turned the screws on him, he hadn’t even hesitated.
More than anything, she wanted to sniffle and lean against his jeans-clad leg. She wanted a hug.
She really did want to haul off and clip him as hard as she could with her best right hook.
Gritting her teeth, she thought, I’ve got to hand it to you, soldier. There isn’t anybody else in the world who can tie me into such knots.