Page 252 of The Spider Queen
Hunter’s family served Thane. Would I have married Hunter? Would our children have served Thane?
“Don’t get lost in thewhat-ifs,” Hunter said, obviously reading the expression on my face. “Live your life, Poppy. Raise your children. And don’t feel guilty fornotfeeling guilty.”
“But I do feel—”
“Do you?” he pressed. Again, it wasn’t anger that tinged his voice but probing curiosity. “Do you think you’re supposed to feel guilt for taking my life? That’s so—”
“Human?” I interrupted.
“Let me go. Truly let me go. Or I’ll stay here forever, trapped, unable to find the peace that you want me to find.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who’s playing the martyr card now?”
He laughed and it caused a tremor of emotion to well up inside of me. If I loved him the way I claimed, then he was right; I needed to let him go. And in letting him go, maybe I’d find the absolution I was looking for.
Because that was the true crux of it all, wasn’t it? I’d held onto him to punish myself, but in doing so, I punished him too. I didn’t want him to suffer. He’d suffered enough because of me.
I searched the deepest parts of my psyche, wanting to find the thread that still bound us. When I saw our bond in my mind’s eye, I pictured a pair of shears and cut the link, a thin silver tendril no thicker than a hair.
A wave of a relief crashed over me as I felt my heart shift and rearrange, filling the space with joy and clarity now that the anguish and guilt were evaporating.
“You were always worthy of me,” Hunter said, even as the golden visage was fading.
“I’m honored I had your heart. Even if it was never going to be forever.”
The edges of the mirage crackled like fireworks on the Fourth of July, and then fizzled out.
Hunter’s smile was the last thing I saw before his soul departed for another plane. Which plane I didn’t know. But one thing I did know: Hunter had found his peace.
And I’d found mine.
Chapter 62
The magic torches were dim when I entered the bedroom. Thane had rolled over onto his back and at some point stripped off his clothes. He always slept nude. No complaints on my end.
I marveled at his body. Rippling muscles, cut definition. He was a sight to behold. And yet, that wasn’t what made my heart trip. He was more than the sultry curl of his lips and the languid look in his eyes. He loved me, and I knew it with every part of me.
“You’re awake,” I said, my tone soft.
“It was just a nap. I had plans for you, but I woke up to find you gone.”
Even in the low torchlight, I could see his gaze darken with hunger. Hunger for me, for my body, for the desire shared between us.
“You fell asleep in the middle of a fight,” I said lightly.
He sighed. “I want to protect you. I haven’t been able to do that—and this was the only way I knew how.”
“I don’t need protecting.”
“I guess you don’t. This will take some getting used to, I think.”
I nodded.
“It won’t happen overnight, but we’ll figure it out.”
“Why didn’t you come and find me?”
He leaned up to grasp my hand to pull me on top of him. I sat astride his straining erection and absently rubbed against him. His hands grasped my hips, gathering my black nightgown in his grip.
