Unbound (The Captive #7)(25)



He was being too rough with her, but he couldn’t get close enough to her right now. All reason vanished as the bond between them swelled and grew further. He could stay in here with her for the rest of their lives and be fine with it.

But he couldn’t, and no matter how badly he desired her now, no matter how badly he needed her, he could not lose himself to her. He forced his fangs to retract and rested his head in the hollow of her throat. Her familiar and much-loved wintry scent assailed him.

He understood what Aria was going through. If someone took Tempest from him, he would tear the world apart, but he had to keep his twin from getting herself killed, and he had to keep Tempest protected.

“I lost control. I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely against her throat.

“Don’t be,” she whispered as she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back to look at him. “I need you too, badly, but there are things we have to do first, and your sister…” Her voice trailed off. Her doe brown eyes darted away before settling on the clothes he’d been holding. “I think getting her cleaned up will help. I came to ask if there is water somewhere in these caves?”

William reluctantly released his hold on her and stepped away. “I’ll get it if you’ll take the clothes out to Aria.”

Tempest walked over to retrieve the clothes he’d dropped. This store room had some provisions in it, but there was no human food remaining here, and there were no medical supplies or bandages. Thankfully, most of Aria’s injuries would heal soon enough. As he turned to leave the room, he kissed Tempest again.

Taking one of the torches he’d lit, he didn’t look back as he left her behind. He snaked through the tunnels before arriving at a locked gate; he dug out the key and slipped through to the other side. After they’d made it to the center cavern, they’d discovered two of the locked gates no longer had keys, which limited their options for fleeing if they had to, but they wouldn’t be leaving here tonight anyway. They had to rest and get cleaned up before they could continue on.

He hoped in the morning Aria would agree to return to where they’d left the others, but he wouldn’t bet on it. His sister was as stubborn as he was, and she was determined to seek her revenge. He understood what drove her now. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been driven by his need to kill Kane. Tempest had helped to ease that driving thirst for vengeance in him, but Aria had no one to temper her, not anymore.

A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the night in Hannah’s tavern when Aria had revealed Atticus’s journals to him. Had it really only been days ago? He could never forget Aria’s words to him, or the lifelessness within her when she’d spoken… “So if he is taken from me, I need you to understand why I may have to be destroyed too. To really understand, William, and not just say you do.”

He’d wanted to blow her off at the time, to convince her nothing would happen to Braith, but he’d been unable to. Aria expected him to be able to destroy her if it became necessary. He would do it before he ever allowed her to become as malevolent and warped as Atticus had become, but he would also do everything he could to save her before he ever considered the possibility of ending her life.

The trickling sound of water drew him to the spot in the caves where water from a stream above flowed down the rocks. He placed the torch beside the ice flow forming on the floor and over the wall of the cave before grabbing the pitcher sitting on a rock shelf beside the water. He filled it and made his way back to the main cavern.

Entering the cave, he found Aria sitting on one of the rocks, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched up around her ears. Over the years, he’d seen his sister boney from lack of food, withdrawn after being separated from Braith, and devastated by the loss of their father, but he’d never seen her look so small or broken before. Her torment made him feel more helpless than he’d ever felt in his life.

Tempest lifted her head from where she sat beside Aria, her hand resting on Aria’s shoulder. It surprised him that Aria allowed Tempest to touch her right now, but he had a feeling she had little real acknowledgement of the world surrounding her anymore.

He walked across the room toward them and Tempest turned to pull a rag from a pile sitting beside the rock. “I’ll take care of her,” she said and took the pitcher from William’s hands. “Can we build a fire in here or will the smell of it travel?”

“It will travel,” he replied and walked away to inspect the gates they’d closed off upon entering. They’d lost their pursuers in the forest, but he couldn’t let his guard down even a little right now.

“I can do it,” Aria said to Tempest.

“Let me help,” Tempest said, and though he’d expected her to protest, Aria didn’t speak. “I couldn’t gather all of the clothing, can you do it, William?” Tempest asked him.

He nodded and turned to leave. He froze when he heard the crunch of a footstep from within one of the tunnels. Aria was up and beside him in an instant, her bow raised and an arrow nocked as she took aim at whoever hid within the shadows beyond the closed gate.

“Who’s there?” Aria demanded.

Silence met her question.

***

Melinda

“I’m sorry milady,” one of the king’s guard apologized and hastily lowered his bow.

Melinda’s shoulders slumped in relief, but Ashby continued to scowl at all of the men and women who had pointed their weapons at them. Behind the king’s guard, the residents of Chippman and the refugee survivors of Badwin were huddled close together. Their eyes were filled with alarm as they surveyed her and Ashby.

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