Deadly Mates 2: Wings of Moonlight by Scarlet Hyacinth

Author:Scarlet Hyacinth [Hyacinth, Scarlet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mm
Publisher: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.
Published: 2010-10-10T13:24:35+00:00

Chapter Five

The sun was starting to set by the time they decided to return to the house. Flame seemed to have recovered remarkably, but as they brought the packs inside, Lysander insisted on carrying everything.

Flame didn't let him do so, though, demanding that they share the burden. “They aren't even so heavy,” he said with a laugh.

“Still,” Lysander protested, “you're hurt.”

“So are you,” Flame pointed out. “Don't worry about it, babe. Werewolves heal fast. I won't lie, the blood loss almost killed me, but with some rest and good loving, I'll be just fine.” Lysander appreciated Flame's honesty, but it also brought home even more what he'd done. In a peculiar twist, now that his task was done and Flame taken care of, shock settled in. Remorse tore at his insides relentlessly, but Lysander hid the agony under a fierce scowl.

“Which is why you shouldn't carry anything. Rest. You said it yourself. Now give that here.”

Faced with Lysander's wrath, Flame yielded. He gave Lysander a concerned look but didn't protest further. Lysander grabbed the two bags and headed toward the house, head spinning from the emotion.

Flame followed behind him in silence.

His vision zeroed in on the cabin and he found a refuge of sorts in having a purpose. Just get to the house. Flame is all right. Just get to the house. Flame is all right. Over and over, he repeated the words in his head, hoping they would stick. They didn't. The image of Flame's blood all over his hands returned, haunting and horrifying.

Halfway through the path, Lysander went down, unable to hold his own weight, let alone the weight of the bags. Warm arms wrapped around him, drawing him close to a powerful chest. “Oh, babe…” Flame murmured. “Shhh…It's fine. I'm fine.”

Lysander trembled in Flame's embrace. His hand roamed through the hair on Flame's chest, lingering over Flame's heart. The wounds were already starting to heal, but he'd been so close to making those heartbeats stop that he couldn't bear it. He'd killed before, of course.

He didn't enjoy it—after all, he was a thief, not an assassin—but not even his first time killing had felt so horrible.

Flame rocked him gently, murmuring whispers of comfort in his ear. Those callused palms rubbed Lysander's skin, sending the chill in Lysander's heart away. But could Lysander afford to lose himself to the calming sensation? He didn't deserve it, not after the way he treated Flame.

Lysander tried to break away from Flame's hold, but Flame just held him tighter. “Look at me, babe,” the other man said, nudging on Lysander's chin. Unable to resist the command, Lysander met Flame's gaze. Flame caressed his lips with a rough thumb, as if yearning to kiss them. “Stop fighting it. I won't ever let you go.” It occurred to Lysander then that if he wanted to, he could command Flame to release him or even to take him to Rook Valley.

No matter what Flame said, they couldn't be together. He couldn't deal with all these new emotions and still keep a clear head to complete his mission.

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