“Shh,” he whispered. He rubbed her back soothingly as he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her temple. He hugged her hard against him. He was so much taller, and so stable in his strength she could imagine him standing in just such a relaxed stance as mountains fell down around him. “We’ll get there, darling. And it will be better than anything. I promise.”
It was such a gentle, nurturing moment and so completely devastating. She turned her face away from his caressing mouth when she wanted nothing more than to lean against him and soak up everything, his scent and his presence, his easy confident affection, that silent roar of Power that continually filled him, that eternal, elemental column of creation’s flame.
All that time she had worked in the acquisition of Power. All that time she had been ruled by ambition. All those centuries that she had lived in such a vast yet fleeting journey, and here he was holding everything she had reached for, not striving, not continually learning to be better, not fighting to acquire any of it. He just was, the mysterious, magical rune, the riddle of a creature that nature decreed should not be able to exist, and yet he did.
She stiffened her spine, bracing herself against the moment. She tried to stiffen her knees and stand on her own, and after a moment she managed to do it. She fought to stop the cascading emotion, to reassert her control, and somehow she found a way to do it.
Then she happened to look down.
Rune was still cuddling her dog in the crook of his arm.
The wild feeling surged back, higher and more devastating than before, and she—the woman who had bargained with demons and stared down monsters, who had counseled pharaohs and created kings, who had once looked into dust-filled shadows of her empty, partially constructed tomb and said no, I will not go there—she broke down and fled.
Rune’s body went into a clench as he looked after Carling’s slender, escaping figure, his eyes narrowed. He took in deep draughts of the cool night air, fighting his instinct to give chase. After a few moments, he followed at a slower pace.
His battle was hard-won, because all of his instincts were roaring to go after her. He wanted to drag her to the ground, tear off that god-awful wretched caftan and spear into her naked body. He wanted to watch her face as she climaxed with him inside of her; he wanted to climax as he watched her beautiful face. He felt immense, full up to bursting and hard as a rock. His erection strained against the zipper of his jeans, and he had nearly come from just the touch of her hands sliding across his chest, from that broken needy little groan Carling—Carling—had made against his mouth.
And the way her eyes had turned that pretty, scary ruby red when he had been hurt was just fucking adorable. He wished he’d seen her fangs descend too. They probably didn’t do that anymore, since she no longer fed on physical nourishment.
But it was kind of a major clue when a lady ran away from a bloke.
That said something, it did. That was a signpost that read: approach with caution. Falling rock up ahead. Handle with care. You’ve come so far with her, much further than you ever thought you’d get. Don’t fucking blow it now, son.
That signpost was one of the busiest he had ever laid eyes on. It had a hell of a lot of text. He figured pausing to read all of that was a good thing.
He hitched Rasputin up higher on his chest and stroked the dog’s soft fur. This was probably the quietest Rune would ever see him.
“I’ve eaten critters that were so much bigger and badass than you are,” he said to the dog. Then he listened to the silence. He sighed and patted Rasputin’s warm little body, and strode forward to meet Carling on the beach.
She was standing at the edge of the shore, holding herself by the elbows and looking over the water. She had packed all the bags in the waterproof container. She looked so beautiful, lonely and defensive, Rune’s heart melted and his cock grew hard, and hells bells, if that wasn’t enough to confuse a bloke, he didn’t know what was.
He weighed his options and decided to stop just a few feet away, not too far but not close enough to spook her either. Then he turned to look over the water too as he tried to figure out if he had any other options available. Further action on his part seemed undesirable at the moment, because he wasn’t at all sure what might make Carling run away again.