She dodged me and grinned. “No way. I’m going to go pretend I’m asleep.” She ran for the room then glanced back over her shoulder. “Naked,” she called out.
Jumping up, I followed behind, giving her just enough time to strip down and get back in our bed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two months later
BLYTHE
I had almost finished writing my first complete novel. It was a romance. And an epic one at that. I was thrilled with how it had come together, and even if no one else ever read it, I had it to reread and remember. Because it was our story. It was a story of healing, redemption, passion, forgiveness, and love.
I wanted to have it edited and at least bound before Christmas. The one person I did want to read it was Krit. I would have never guessed that the beautiful man who had stood watching me twirl around my apartment with an amused grin would be the one to make me whole. Our story was beautiful, and having it all written down in words meant it was a story that would never be forgotten. When we are long gone, our great-grandchildren would have this story to read and know that they came from love.
Krit opened the door and stepped inside. I closed my MacBook so he couldn’t peek at the words.
“Put it there.” I pointed at the spot I’d cleared out in our living room.
Krit picked up the Virginia pine tree we had picked out together at the Christmas tree farm, carried it over to the corner, and stood it up.
It was going to be my first real Christmas. I had never been given a Christmas present or I’d never decorated a tree. Those were things I’d watched happen in the house I’d grown up in, but I’d never been invited to participate.
“How’s that?” Krit asked, standing back to survey his work.
“Perfect,” I told him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Now we get to decorate.” The excitement was almost too much. I had always wanted to decorate a tree.
“Love, I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to as long as it makes you smile like that,” he said, turning around and kissing me firmly on the mouth.
“Good. Because we’re decorating cookies tonight, and that will make me smile,” I told him.
He smirked. “Icing and you and a kitchen counter. Yeah, sounds like my kind of fun.”
“The icing goes on the cookies,” I told him.
He nodded. “Sure it does. And then it goes on your ni**les, and if you’re really good, between your thighs.”
The catch in my breath made him grin. “That’s what I thought. My girl likes to play.”
“Okay, we’ll play, but only if I get to put some icing on my favorite piercing.” I said.
His eyes lit up, and he tugged my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen.
“What are you doing? We have a tree to decorate,” I said, giggling as I followed him.
“No, love. We are going to get that icing and let you put it on your favorite piercing. Play first, decorate the tree later.”
“Krit,” I said, and he stopped and looked back at me.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I love you.”
He towered over me, and his blue eyes smoldered as he gazed down at me. “I love you more,” he whispered against my lips, then he made me forget about decorations and cookies. I was lost in the one man who had been made just for me.
The pain almost overwhelmed me, but I forced it to the back of my mind and concentrated on the cold, raw fury of my magic, drawing it up from the deepest, darkest, blackest part of me. I let the Ice power flood my body first, numbing me from head to toe, until I couldn't feel the sharp, pulsing pain in my ribs or the fact that my collarbone felt like broken bits of confetti barely clinging together. I reached for more and more of my Ice magic until all I felt was cold - and the determination to end this bitch once and for all.
Clementine stopped hitting me long enough to throw back her head and laugh again. She didn't notice me stretch my arms out to either side of my body and press my palms flat on the stone walkway. Looking past Clementine, I stared at the statue of the old man, my gaze narrowing in on the spear in his hand.