Page 88 of Shackled to the World
Her throat tight, she tried to pull away, desperate to lick her wounds in private. She didn’t want him to know how much his fear hurt.
Only he tightened his grip and slipped his arms around her until she was plastered against his chest. “Annora…you misunderstood. I want to go slowly and treasure each moment with you, every touch and kiss. I want to take you out on a date, eat dinner with you, and make you laugh. I want to walk you home and hold your hand. I want to leave you at your door and kiss you goodnight. I want to do everything we missed together. You are my one and only. You deserve to be treasured. I want…I need to show you what you mean to me.”
He pursed his lips then dropped his arms from around her and wiped his hands on his jeans as if he was nervous. Then he licked his lips and stared right into her eyes. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”
Tears immediately flooded her eyes, overcome by the enormity of her emotions. When his expression turned panicked, she gave a watery laugh and nodded. “Yes. Yes to everything.”
She threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms came around her, nearly crushing the air out of her, but she didn’t care. She rubbed her face against his jaw, then reluctantly pulled away.
Before she could crawl off his lap, he lifted her and deposited her on the other seat. He picked up his shirt, tugged it over his head, and she couldn’t help but gawk at the flex of muscles. When he pulled the shirt down, she must have hummed in protest, because when she looked up, it was to catch him smirking at her.
Her cheeks burned, and she ducked her head. She grabbed her own shirt and grimaced. No way was she going to wear the blood-encrusted rag again.
He jumped out of the vehicle, then offered his hand.
Pleasure bloomed in her chest, and she paused to memorize the tender expression on his face. It wouldn’t last. She’d drive him crazy soon enough and wanted to savor the moment. When their hands touched, her skin tingled.
He wove their fingers together, and they walked back to the house, neither of them in a rush. When they reached the door, he leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, more of a quick brush of lips.
Then he was gone much too quickly.
When she opened her eyes, he was at the bottom of the steps, his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Go. The others need you.”
She frowned, taking a step after him. “Where are you going?”
He looked off into the darkness, then back to her. “I’m going to check in with the patrols and help with the others when they return. There will be injured to help and prisoners to question.”
Annora took another step after him, not wanting him to go off alone. “I can help.”
Since the whole thing felt like her fault, it was the least she could do.
But Camden was already shaking his head. “Logan needs you more right now.”
Annora stopped instantly, as if her feet had grown roots, then nodded, worry for Logan suddenly at the forefront of her mind. She turned, taking the last two stairs up to the house before she paused with her hand on the doorknob. A glance over her shoulder showed Camden was waiting until she was safely inside.
“Be safe,” she said, then entered, closing the door behind her.
A quick look showed the ground floor was empty, and she charged toward the stairs, convinced something dreadful had happened.
She made it to the second floor, but it was empty as well. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears she could hear nothing else but the erratic beat. Hand on the railing, she called upon the darkness, feeling it snap around her, hungry and searching for the threat.
She placed one foot on the stairs to her room when an arm wrapped around her waist from behind and lifted her off her feet. She was so focused on getting up the steps, her feet were still running. She threw back her elbow, slamming it into her attacker’s stomach. Air whooshed out of him with a grunt, and she recognized the warm sea breeze scent only a second later, just as the darkness began to lick at his boots.
“Xander?” Her voice shook as she hauled back on the dark particles. They resisted, slithering up his legs to twine around him like a lover’s caress, seeming to have recognized him before she did. When she realized that the darkness wouldn’t harm him, she twisted and smacked at his arm. “Why the fuck did you scare me like that? I thought something awful happened.”
He lowered her to the ground, gently turning her until she was facing him, and she burrowed against his chest, a shudder going down her spine at the thought of everything she nearly lost. He wrapped his arms around her very hesitantly, patting her awkwardly, as if he’d never given a hug before.
Well, she hadn’t received many, so he could just get used to it.
Apparently she was beginning to like them.
“I was outside burning Logan’s clothes. Mason is upstairs helping him get ready for bed.” When she turned to go back up the stairs, he caught her arm. “Logan would like you to wait.”
She glanced back, saw his pale face, and her gut tightened in dread. If Logan’s injuries were enough to shake Xander, they were worse than she expected. “I can help. I can—”
“He’s taking a shower. He just needs to get clean first. Wash away the blood and pain. He doesn’t want to bring it into the house, doesn’t want you to see him until it’s gone.” Xander gently tugged on her arm, leading her to his room.
It hurt to be excluded, as useless as a hovering bug that would only get in the way, but she pushed the whiny feelings away. If that’s what it took for Logan to feel normal, she would respect his decision.
