Nila didn’t stir.
She’d stopped shivering, but her lips were a deep indigo that terrified me more than her unconscious whimpers. She teetered on death’s door—even now—even though I’d resuscitated her with mouth to mouth and given my soul as well as my air, she still haemorrhaged life.
It was as if she wanted to die.
Wanted to leave me.
Her brittle body made me focus on things I wasn’t strong enough to face.
I’d grown up.
I’d begun to see.
I’d begun to believe she was it for me. The only one who could save me from myself.
Slinking through the door, I was careful not to bump her head. Her body lay strewn like a fallen angel in my arms—as if I’d caught her mid-plummet to earth. Her lips were parted; her arms dangled by her sides.
I had to get her warm and fast. I knew exactly how to do it.
Locking the door behind me, I descended the spiral staircase. I had no way of clapping to turn on the sound activated lights, so stomped my foot on the stone step, grateful when balls of light lit up one after the other, leading the way in the dark.
Electricity had replaced gas, which in turn had replaced naked flames that used to flicker in the medieval lanterns on the wall.
Moving forward, each bulb guided me further beneath the house, until I travelled beneath my own quarters and the bachelor wing above.
The bunker had been extended far past its original footprint. The crude concrete walls had been meticulously updated with large travertine tiles and top-of-the-line facilities.
Countless contraptions existed that I could use to warm Nila.
We had a steam room, sauna, and spa.
We had everything money could buy.
But none would be good enough.
I needed something bigger, grander…hotter.
I needed something money couldn’t buy: the power of nature.
The scent of sulphur enveloped us as I continued down the corridor and into the humid world beneath Hawksridge. The cave had been discovered after the first part of the Hall had been erected. A workman died falling through the hole when setting new foundations—the cave had been stumbled upon by pure fluke.
Natural springs were a fairly common phenomenon in England—closely guarded by those who had them and a public luxury in places like Bath. Ours had remained a family secret for generations.
The sapphire water never dropped below forty degrees centigrade. Ever. It was consistent and somewhere I used to come a lot—somewhere that Jasmine visited almost daily with her maid to ease her atrophied muscles.
Moisture dripped from the earthen walls, plopping quietly back into the pool where it’d come from. A perpetual circle of death and rebirth.
I didn’t stop to strip.
I didn’t waste a moment.
Holding Nila tight against my chest, I walked down the carved steps and into the shoulder-deep spring. Every wade made my skin tingle and burn. I couldn’t handle such warm waters all at once—I had to ease into it, allow the ice inside my soul to melt little by little.
But now all I cared about was raising Nila’s body temperature.
I didn’t care about my shoes or clothes.
Shit, I didn’t even care I had my cell-phone and wallet in my pocket.
Everything was inconsequential; the urge to heal her before it was too late far too strong.
Not only had I scarred her back, but now I’d scarred her with death.
I have to fix this. Quickly.
As the warm liquid lapped around my waist, it stole Nila’s weight, almost tugging her from my arms. Unwillingly, I unlocked my grip, letting her float away from me, bobbing buoyantly on the surface.
Her eyes didn’t open. She didn’t show any awareness that she felt the warmth after being so cold.
With cupped fingers, I poured hot water over her head, trading the iciness of the lake for the welcoming embrace of the spring.
Waterfall after waterfall I poured on her scalp, careful not to let the droplets slide over her nose or mouth.
It took too long.
The only noise was the gentle splash of water as it rained through my fingers.
Every second waiting for her to wake up ruined my every heartbeat.
I lost track of time. My eyes never left her blue, blue lips, and it was only when the deep colour began to fade that I finally relaxed a little.
Her fingertips weren’t ice cubes any longer, thawing thanks to the warmth of the water.
When she finally did start to rouse, she began to shiver.
Violently.
Her teeth chattered and her hair tangled on the surface, jerking with every tremble.
Gathering her close, I held her as ripples arched from the epicentre of her body, fanning out to lap against the three metre wide pool.
Every twitch from her resonated in me—I didn’t think I’d ever be stable again.
I continued to pour water over her head, cascading it over her frozen ears, willing her cheeks to turn pink.
Her soft moan was the second sign of her being alive. However, if she was aware of what I did, she didn’t show it—she refused to open her eyes.
I couldn’t blame her.
I wouldn’t want to look at the man who’d done this either.
Sighing, I pressed my forehead against hers. No words could convey everything I felt. So I let silence do it for me.
I filled the space with so much fucking regret. Regret for today, for yesterday, for tomorrow. For everything I was and could never be.
I didn’t know how long we hovered in the cave beneath my ancestral home, but slowly the silence filled with more than just sorrow and apology. It filled with a need so fierce and cruel, I struggled to breathe.
Pulling back, my eyes met Nila’s black ones.
I froze as she slowly stood upright, dropping her legs beneath the water. Her hands moved. Slowly and weakly, she cupped my face.
I stiffened within her hold.
A hitched sigh fell from my lips.
I would permit her to slap me. I would let her take out her rage. After all, I deserved it.