Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(96)

She glanced at his wrists. He had far worse scars on the inside. And I’ve ripped them wide open.

“Now what does the witch think of her husband?”





43




Malkom braced himself for her disgust, even as he knew he shouldn’t give a damn what she thought. She had wronged him.

Still, as he watched her seeming to formulate a response, he regretted telling her. He could not take her disgust, could not bear it from her—

“I appreciate your confiding in me about your past,” she finally said. “It explains a lot. But it doesn’t affect my feelings at all.”

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then his anger fired. “How can you say that?” he snapped. “Your words are false, meant to deceive me again. How could you not be disgusted?”

“I’m not. I feel pain for what you’ve suffered and want to comfort you, but my feelings for you haven’t changed in the least.”

Maybe she didn’t understand how bad it’d been. How dishonorably I behaved. “I scavenged refuse, eating from filth. I murdered my best friend, the only one who was ever good to me in my entire life.” He grated, “I behaved as if I loved every second the master violated me, acted as if I were eager, craving whatever he and his friends did to me.”

Though she didn’t gaze away, her eyes watered. “I wish I could have saved you from that. Could have rescued you from him.”

He shot to his feet. “What is wrong with you, woman?” He ran his hand over his face. “No, I know. You treat me just as I treated my master, feigning love to gain protection, acting as if I do not disgust you.”

“I’m not feigning anything, demon! You were a child! You did what it took to survive. And thank the gods you did. You grew into the noblest, bravest man I’ve ever known. Because of your strength and will to live, you were here to save me and an innocent little girl from dying.”

Noblest? Malkom shook his head hard. “You said the mortals wanted me, a Scarb?, because I am unique. You and the girl might not even have been taken but for me.”

“I may have been a pawn, but I believe they wanted Ruby anyway. She was going to be captured regardless. And if not for you, she would have died that night. Why don’t you remember events like that?” She gazed at the sky, then turned to him once more, her eyes stark. “I regret hurting you, but I do not regret being sent after you. The very thought of never knowing you makes me feel sick inside.”

He clenched his fists. It does me, too. What would it take for him to lose this knot in his gut, this bitter doubt?

I do not want to feel this way anymore . . . .

When he didn’t reply, she rose. “Malkom, I’ll go. But there’s something you should know.” She waited until he’d met her gaze to say, “If you told me these things to drive a wedge between us, then you’ve failed. All you’ve done is make me care for you more.”

Which makes no sense to me! After dredging up all these memories, he ached inside. He wanted to hurt her, to shake away that mask of concern and empathy. I will never believe again.

As she turned back for the cabin, his hand shot forward, snagging her ankle to pull her to the sand. “I’m not done with you, wife.”

She twisted around to face him. Instead of being outraged or wary, her expression was fierce. “Good, because I will never be done with you, Malkom.” She eased her hand to his face, resting her palm against his cheek. Her eyes began to soften as she gazed up at him.

Every time she looked at him like that, his rancor grew. “The only reason you accept one like me into your bed”—he forced her hands over her head, pinning them with one of his—“is that you know you will be vulnerable without my protection.” He recognized this as well as he would his own harsh reflection in a pool. “And when you are safe in your home, you will have no need of me.”

“That’s simply not true.”

“Prove it,” he said, his voice cruel. “Prove to me why a highborn woman so fine as you”—he clawed her shirt open to expose her breasts, giving each a brusque squeeze—“would want to lie with a male like me.”

“Malkom, I want to lie with you because I desire you so much.”

At her ear, he rasped, “You truly crave the bastard son of a whore rutting betwixt your pale thighs?” After tearing off his own shirt, he shoved her skirt up to her waist, baring her sex. “Wouldn’t you be suspicious, if you were me?” He yanked his pants down to his knees, then maneuvered his body over hers.

“I crave you. I always will.”

When he positioned his cock at her entrance, she began panting, growing wet for him, which only infuriated him more.

“You like being f*cked by a Scarb??” He wrapped her hair around his fist. “Look at me! Truly look. Tell me what you see that others cannot!”

“I see my husband.”

With a yell of frustration, he entered her with one unrelenting stroke. Though his thoughts were in turmoil, pleasure rocked him. He threw back his head, biting back a groan.

She gasped at the intrusion, sucking in a breath. Then she whispered, “I love you.”

He stilled, gazing down at her. “What did you say?”



The demon’s body was a mass of tension, like a bomb about to explode, but she still repeated, “I love you, Malkom.”