Wicked Soul (Ancient Blood #1)(71)

“That’s what Diva said,” I whispered. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands. “Have you ever been in my home without my knowledge or consent?”

“No. Never.” The absolute sincerity in his gaze broke the final barrier of icy wrath I’d been clinging to.

I hid my face in my hands and finally gave in to the sorrow. It wasn’t a pretty, lady-like cry. It was full, deep, body-rocking sobs from the very pit of my belly. I cried so hard I had to gasp for breath.

Strong arms closed around me, hesitantly, to give me the chance to pull away, but I didn’t have the strength. Crying like I hadn’t cried since I was a child, I let the man who’d hurt me deeper than anyone else comfort me with his presence.

I don’t know how long he held me in his arms as we stood in the middle of the street in his quiet, upper class neighborhood, but it felt like hours before my sobs finally quieted and, like the quiet after a storm, allowed a deep peace to settle within.

“I’m not okay with this,” I mumbled into his shirt. “What you did is not okay.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“How are we supposed to be friends when… when there is this between us? When you broke my trust, because of… because of what you are?”

“I don’t know.”

I snorted, a helpless little sound that only reminded me of how fucking lonely I’d been before Warin came into my life. I hadn’t even realized, before he’d been there to ease it in a way I hadn’t known possible.

“Why the fuck didn’t you just ask for my phone number?” I grumbled.

Warin barked a laugh, and for a brief moment his arms constricted tighter around me. “Liv… I will do anything you ask to make this right. Anything. Tell me, and I will do it. I understand that I have no right to ask anything of you, but I am. Please—don’t give up on us.”

I finally lifted my head and looked up at him—and knew that not only didn’t I want to lose him. I couldn’t.

“Take me to the skyscraper again,” I whispered.

Warin’s arms tightened around me again, lifting me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“Don’t let go,” I said.

“Never,” he promised.

The air whipped against my face as he took to the sky, drying my tears with its icy caress. I didn’t watch the city disappear underneath us this time—I just buried my face in Warin’s shoulder and wished I’d known him when he was still human.

When he landed on the roof, he sank down to his knees so I could sit on his lap in an imitation of the way I’d been straddling him last night. Only this time, there wasn’t any sexual undertones—just a bone-deep urge to know he needed me as much as I needed him—needed me enough to follow through on his promise that he’d do anything to make this right.

A gentle touch against my cheek made me open my eyes and move my head back from his shoulder.

"I am so sorry I hurt you, Liv.” It was a gentle, intimate whisper.

I drew in a deep breath. “You said you’d given up on everything when we first met. What did you mean?”

“I…” Warin hesitated, and I stared into his darkened eyes.

“You promised my anything to make this right. I want to know something about you no one else does. I want to know this.”

He sighed deeply. “I was planning to meet my Final death, once I’d gotten to the bottom of the disappearances. It was my last obligation.”

“Warin,” I whispered, reaching for him without thought.

“It’s not… It would not have been a tragedy. It would have been my long overdue penance. And a relief. I have been numb for more than eight hundred years. At first, I stayed for Aleric. I knew he would have been torn apart by my absence. Then it was my obligation to my territory. Chicago was on the brink of a power vacuum when I was given reign here. But Aleric has his own territory now, his own responsibilities, and Carina would have been able to manage the city until a worthy Ancient could take over. I thought I was finally done with this life.” He smiled at me, a gentle expression. “But then you showed up.”

“What is this? This connection between us?” I asked, because there was no use pretending anymore. We both knew it was there, even if I couldn’t fathom why.

“I’m not sure.” He reached up and stroked a hand through my hair. “But if I believed in a god, I’d think you an angel of mercy sent to save me from my own darkness.”

I snorted at the ridiculousness of that notion. “Good thing you don’t, then, because I would have been the worst guardian angel ever.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up at my comment. “Maybe I can be your guardian angel instead. If you’ll let me.”

“How about we say we’re just friends?” I offered.

“That would make me very happy.”

We sat in silence for a little while, and I rested my head back against his shoulder and let the night embrace us both.

“Warin?” I finally said.

“Yes?” he asked. From the distant note in his voice, I guessed his thoughts had been wandering.

“You can’t ever give up on life. Even un-life, as it may be in your case. You’re still alive because you still have life left to live. I believe with everything that I am that we do not get to make the choice for when we’re done. There is no easy way out. We’ll just have to live it all over again—all the pain, the suffering, and grow stronger until we can overcome it.”