The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(86)

"I know." She would feel obligated to give up her freedom if she admitted that she loved him. He would not ask it of her. Not now.

"I've been on my own for a long time," she said on a desperate laugh, "and you and I both know just how long I have left. I can't place myself in someone else's keeping."

"I know," he said again.

"I just...I know I don't want you hurt. I...I need time to think."

According to Cronus, Lucien did not have much time. Soon. The clock is ticking. Lucien would search for Hydra for however long he had. If he failed to find her, if he failed to win the artifact, he would not fight his fate, he realized then. Had already accepted it, to be honest. He couldn't hurt Anya and couldn't allow Cronus to have the key. If he had to die to ensure her safety, then he would die.

He loved Anya enough to willingly give his life for hers. Without hesitation, without reservation.

He had not been able to give his life for Mariah, but he had wanted to. Had wished for it all these long centuries. Until now. Now he was glad he'd survived. He lived and died for Anya. He would regret the past no more; he would not spend another millennium craving something he could not have.

He would enjoy Anya for as long as they could be together.

"Why do I feel so guilty?" Anya whispered, and there was shame in the undercurrents of her voice. "Like I should give Cronus the key?"

There was only one answer: she did indeed love him. His heart swelled with joy and pride. And that was enough for him, knowing she loved him, even if she could not say the words. "You will not give it to him. Promise me. Promise me you will never give it away."

Tears filled her eyes. Minutes passed in silence.

"Promise me, Anya. Give me that peace of mind."

Her lashes were black and spiky, creating a shadow-fan under her ice-blue eyes. Or perhaps, in her anguish, bruises had formed there. Finally she said, "I promise." Then she laughed without humor. "Great. Now I feel even guiltier."

He reached out and sifted strands of her silky hair between his fingers. "You should not feel that way."

"Then how should I feel?" She sniffled.

"Come here," he said, giving the locks a gentle tug.

As she inched forward, her watery gaze landed on his hand. She gripped his wrist, turning over his palm, and frowned. "You're hurt."

"A tiny scratch, nothing more."

She lifted it to her lips and placed a soft kiss directly on the wound. "My poor baby. I don't like to see you hurting."

Electric jolts shot up his arm, hot and hungry. Oh, yes, he loved this woman. He traced the shadows with his fingertip, and then their gazes locked. "I would gladly be hacked to pieces to be so ministered to."

"Do you think he can do it? Do you think you'll weaken?" she whispered brokenly, though they both already knew the answer. "You're so strong. You're so vital."

"I will be fine," he lied.

"Maybe I should, I don't know, talk to Cronus or something."

Adamant, he shook his head. "You will not do that, either. He could make things worse."

Sadness couched every beautiful plane and hollow of her face; she remained silent.

"I told you. We will find the artifact."

"You guys coming?" William called, his irritation clear.

"In a minute!" Anya shouted without looking away from Lucien. "You need to get dressed. We can't have you turning into a popsicle, now can we?"

"Not again." He spent the next heartbeat of time memorizing her face, drinking her in and branding her essence onto his every cell. She caressed his cheek all the while, clearly not wanting to leave the room, either.

"I put your gear on the floor," she said.

He chuckled. "I know. I saw you drop everything." He kissed her softly. "I'll see you downstairs."

"Flowers, I - "

"Say no more, sweetheart. We'll find a way to make this work."

A tear finally spilled over, racing down her cheek. "Sweetheart. You called me sweetheart." Without giving him a chance to reply, she disappeared.

But he didn't think she left right away, because he could still smell strawberries, could still feel her gaze burning into him. Then the skin above his heart tingled, as if she'd just traced an X.

A SULKING WILLIAM HAD refused to allow Lucien to flash him. Instead, the man had a helicopter take them to the coast of Greenland, where mountain met ice and many a human had died, forgotten and alone. The flying deathtrap could not go any farther, and Lucien was glad. He wanted out. The air was so cold, the engine kept sputtering, threatening to freeze.

He could have flashed before plummeting to the ground, so the thought of crashing didn't bother him. The fact that he was not in control bothered him. The fact that his stomach was in his throat bothered him. The fact that Anya's last memories of him might be of him hunched over and vomiting bothered him.

He nearly kissed the snow-covered land when he finally exited.

Three ATVs were already waiting for them, along with backpacks of food and water. William had seen to everything, not that Lucien trusted him. Lucien remained on guard, staying between the warrior and Anya at all times.

They climbed onto the vehicles, and he traded his lack of control for a sense of bleak isolation. An ocean of snow surrounded him. Beautiful, lovely to the extreme, but deadly. Was this how the demon had felt inside Pandora's box? Only instead of vast white there'd been nothing but eternal darkness?