The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(44)

"Stop him," Ashlyn rasped as Danika peeked over the rail and laughed bitterly, a little hysterically.

"What are you going to do?" the blonde demanded. "Throw me? You're all liars, you know that? I hope every single one of you rots in hell."

"We already are," Reyes said flatly.

Aeron gripped Danika's shoulders as he joined her, then spun her so that she faced him. "Hold on to me."

Another bitter laugh. "Why?"

"So you'll live." Large wings suddenly sprang from hidden slits in his back. They were long and black and looked as soft as gossamer, but the ends were pointed, sharp as knives.

Ashlyn gasped in shock. "I'm better. I swear I'm better."

Maddox stroked her cheek, hoping to relax her. "Shh. Everything will be fine."

Danika's eyes widened unnaturally. "Stop!" She tried to wrench herself from Aeron's grip, tried to race back inside the room, but he held tight. She reached for Reyes. "I can't do this. I can't! Don't let him take me, Reyes. Please!"

Expression tormented, Reyes stepped toward her... stretched out his arms... scowled... dropped them to his sides.

"Reyes!"

"Go!" Reyes shouted.

Without another word, Aeron jumped, falling from view and taking Danika with him. She screamed, but that scream soon became a gasp, the gasp a moan. Then the two came into view again, soaring through the air, Aeron's wings flapping gracefully, rhythmically.

"Stop him," Ashlyn breathed. "Please."

"I can't. I wouldn't even if I could. Do not worry for her. The wings of Wrath are strong, well able to hold Danika's slight weight." He searched the room for Reyes, who paced from one corner to another. The man was gripping a dagger by the blade rather than the hilt and blood was dripping from his white-knuckled hand onto the floor.

"We need water and coffee," Maddox told him, remembering Danika's instructions.

Reyes planted his feet and squeezed his eyelids closed, as if he fought for control. As if he teetered on the brink of a total meltdown. "I should have taken her myself, but walking would have taken too long. Did you see how frightened she was?"

"I saw." Maddox didn't know what else to say. Danika's fear was nothing to him when compared to Ashlyn's pain.

Reyes rubbed a hand over his jaw, smearing a trail of crimson on his skin. "Water? Coffee, you said?"

"Yes."

Seemingly grateful for the reprieve, Reyes strode from the room. Obviously Maddox wasn't the only one in the fortress who suddenly had woman troubles.

A short while later, Reyes returned with the desired items and set the tray on the edge of the bed. That done, he left again. Maddox doubted he'd return. Shaking his head in pity - if Reyes felt for Danika half of what Maddox felt for Ashlyn, he was destined for a world of hurt, and not the kind he craved - Maddox reached over Ashlyn and gripped the tepid glass of water. He slid one hand under her neck, tilted her head, and placed the rim of the glass at the seam of her lips with the other.

"Drink," he told her.

Stubborn, she pressed her lips together and gave a slight shake of her head.

"Drink," he insisted.

"No. It will hurt my - "

He dumped the contents into her mouth. She sputtered and coughed, but she did swallow most of it. Several droplets trickled down her chin. He tossed the empty glass onto the floor, heard a thud.

Ashlyn glared up at him, accusation in those amber eyes. "I said I feel better, but that doesn't mean I feel great. My stomach is still sensitive."

His mouth edged into a frown. Caring for a human was difficult, that was for sure. He did not apologize for forcing her to drink, however. What she needed, she would get. Whether she wanted it or not.

He gripped the mug of coffee, and his frown deepened when he realized it was cold. Oh, well. It would have to do. "Drink," he ordered. For whatever reason - he still wasn't ready to ponder it - she was important to him. She mattered.

She was not escaping him. Not through death or any other means.

Ashlyn gave no indication that she'd heard him and certainly no hint of her intentions. In the blink of an eye, she shot out her arm and knocked the mug out of his hand. The movement was weak, but the ceramic hit the floor and shattered, leaving a black, caffeinated river.

Twin spots of color dotted her cheeks. "No," she said, drawing out the single syllable with relish.

"That was uncalled for," he chastised, brushing moist strands of hair from her temples, savoring the feel of her silky skin.

"I don't care."

"Fine. No coffee." He stared down at her, this woman who had shaken his entire world. "Do you still wish me to let you go?" The question left his lips before he could stop it. He hadn't meant to put the request before her, since he intended to keep her by whatever means necessary, but there was a need inside him - a foolish need - to give her whatever she desired.

She looked away from him, over his shoulder, past the wall, a peculiar intensity claiming her expression. Several minutes ticked by in silence. Torturous minutes.

He fisted the pillow. "It is a yes or no question, Ashlyn."

"I don't know, okay?" she said softly. "I love the silence, and I'm beginning to like you. I'm grateful to you for taking care of me." She paused. "But..."