Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(44)

His laughter sounded like knives sharpening against each other. “What happened? You left me naked in a whorehouse.”

That was hardly recent. “And?”

Emerald blazed from Ian’s gaze as he grabbed the horn and ripped it from his upper arm. It landed on the floor and instantly straightened into an upright position, like a sword on an invisible stand. I backed away from it, not wanting to touch the deadly magic relic even by accident.

Ian stalked toward me. With the small size of the room, he quickly closed the space between us. “Know what else this little beastie did, aside from ‘choosing’ me as its new owner? It gave me all my memories back.”

Shock made me sputter. “What? How?”

He grabbed my shoulders. Green blazed from his eyes and his aura sparked with so much angry energy, being near it felt like standing beside a swarm of stinging bees. “Whatever else it is, the horn’s also a power amplifier. Felt it making me stronger the moment I woke up with it. Then it bashed down the walls in my mind. Thought my head would explode again when all the memories came rushing back, but it didn’t. Maybe the horn protected me, but either way, for the past several hours, I’ve remembered every secret we shared, each moment in each other’s arms, all the promises we made and the last words I said, all while knowing that you left me naked in a bloody whorehouse!”

Shame slapped me, but his anger made mine rise to the surface, too. “I didn’t want to leave you, but what was I supposed to do? Say ‘Hey, Ian, you don’t remember me, but we’re technically married, and guess what? I didn’t help the council execute your friend’s child! I helped save her because I’m a secret cross-species, double-agent Law Guardian! And sure, you already got killed once by being with me, but want to risk getting murdered again to see if the second time’s the charm?’”

“Yes.” His tone was more scalding than a splash of boiling water. “That’s exactly what you should have said. Then I would have told you I did remember you. Perhaps not all the specifics, but enough to chase you even after you threw me away as if I were yesterday’s rubbish.”

My anger fled at the flash of pain in his gaze. I’d caused that. Me and no one else. My throat closed off and my chest tightened until it felt like it was being crushed. I was grateful for the sudden, blurring sheen of tears because I could no longer bear to meet Ian’s gaze. I hadn’t known that regret could manifest as physical pain until this moment.

“Ian . . .” What could I say? Nothing could take back what I’d done, and worse, now I knew I hadn’t needed to do it at all. But I had to explain, this time without anger, sarcasm, or rationalizations. I owed him that.

I met his eyes, hoping he could see the anguish in mine as I dropped all the defenses that had shielded me. “I thought I could never hurt as much as I did when I lost Tenoch. Then you died and . . . it broke me. Literally, as it turned out. I didn’t know I could do what I did after you shoved that bone knife through your eye. If I had, I would’ve done it sooner to save you.”

I let out a bitter laugh as I dashed away the tears that started to run down my cheeks.

“After you died, I would’ve let that half stay in control. She registers loss, but she doesn’t feel it. It’s all cold logic with her. Then Dagon said he could bring you back, and I had to see if he was right. So, I wrestled back control. For once, Dagon wasn’t lying. My father brought you back and I was so happy, I didn’t even care that it meant Dagon was going to live, too. But then I was told you wouldn’t remember me.”

My breath shuddered past my lips. Ian’s hands flexed as if he’d been about to reach out to me, but then stopped himself.

“I lost you again,” I summarized, voice cracking. “Only this time, my other half wasn’t in control to shield me from the pain. I really did think leaving you was the best way to keep you from getting killed again, but I—I did it to protect myself, too. Like someone on fire, I ran, even though that only made everything worse. I know every reason why I shouldn’t feel what I do for you,” I added more briskly, struggling for any semblance of control. “But I can’t help it. I love you—”

He yanked me close and his mouth crushed mine. I kissed him back, clutching his head as if I’d never let him go. He tasted like salt from all my tears, but I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop anything. Everything I’d shoved down before was bursting out of me now.

I only let go of his head to yank his shirt off. Then my nails scored a path down his back while my other hand stayed tangled in his blood-stiffened hair. He shuddered with lust, tongue lashing mine with sensual brutality.

I groaned when a hard rip tore my sweater from neck to waist and his bare chest pressed against my skin. I wanted to feel all of him but my damn bra stopped me, and I hated my jeans more than anything in life except his pants, which I loathed. If I were pyrokinetic, all our clothes would’ve immediately burned to ash. I needed his naked body on mine, and I needed it now.

I grabbed his waistband and ripped.

The sound he made had me tearing at my own pants until he gripped my hands and held them at my sides. He dragged his mouth from my throat to my chest before one sharp bite severed my bra clasp.

It split open, baring my breasts. I gasped when his mouth closed over my nipple, swirling the tip before sucking strongly. Pleasure rocketed to my core, growing until I was wet and aching. I strained to free my hands so I could tear the rest of our clothes off, but he didn’t let me go. He moved to my other breast, laving it before he sucked harder, longer, until my skin felt too tight, heat bathed me, and I couldn’t think about anything except having him inside me.