Page 140 of Bitten & Burned
“I thought I’d caused it,” he said, voice cracking. “I thought it was my fault. That I’d given it to you somehow.”
“And instead of saying something, you just took the easy way out? Just kept it to yourself?”
He frowned. “It didn’t feel easy,” he said. “It felt like dying. I… I thought it was my fault that you were suffering. All of this, my fault.”
I stared at him, arms still crossed. Heart in my throat.
“Guilt’s rough,” I said bluntly. “Not as rough as having this… damnedthingon me.” I was so angry, I wanted to claw the cursed thing off. I yanked up the hem of my chemise, fingernails digging into the skin around the wound. “This thing…seeping into my skin. Into my blood. Making me sick. Making me hurt,” my voice broke. “Making me… gods, Quil.”
This whole time?
“I’m sorry,” he said. So sincerely, I almost believed him. “I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. It was like this… wound, this sigil, this blasted… fuckingthingcouldn’t even give me a moment’s reprieve. I couldn’tthink, godsdammit.
My hands went back to the wound again. Determined to scrape it off of me. Or to at least make it hurt more. If it was going to plague me, then plague me, dammit. I raked my fingers across the wound and hissed, sobbed when red welts rose. Pain bloomed.
My legs gave out. I let them.
I sank down into the chair behind me, head in my hands. “Gods, why won’t itstop?”
They all moved at once.
Dmitri first, his footsteps heavy as he came towards me.
But Quil, he was faster.
He reached me first—dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands covering mine, gently plucking them from my face and bringing them to his lips. He kissed the backs of both, slow and reverent, as if apology could be breathed into skin.
“Please,” he said, voice shaking, “Rowena, don’t do this…”
His grip tightened just slightly.
“If you need to make something bleed,” he whispered, “make it me. Please.”
A sound caught in my throat. Half sob, half breath. I couldn’t look at him.
Vael took two full steps forward before stopping cold.
“Rowena…please don’t hurt yourself…”
I looked up at him.
All I could think was how I used to love hearing him say my name.
Over and over and over again. Whispered against my skin. Murmured into the space between kisses. Growled when he?—
Gods, it used to sound beautiful on his tongue.
Even now.
Especially now.
I blinked back tears, shaking my head like I could clear the fog. Clear away the guilt. The sigil. The ache in my chest and the sting in my skin.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I… I’m just—” The apology tumbled out before I could stop it, instinctive as breathing. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just… I’m not… I don’t know what to do now.”
“Don’t apologize,” Dmitri said, his voice steady, grounding. “Just—please. Let us take it. If you’re in pain, let us take it. Please.”
