The Frozen Prince (The Beast Charmer #2) - Maxym M. Martineau Page 0,9
over and her vocal cords flared against the palm of my hand. The way it felt to almost kill the woman I would come to love more than anything. I could’ve destroyed her then.
You could still destroy her now.
“Noc.” Her raspy call barely registered. An unfamiliar red film descended over my vision, and the dark shadows turned to bloody blades. Waiting. Eager. They were toxic in their allure, and my breathing hitched.
What is this feeling? It wasn’t wholly mine, and yet it felt so right. The red seeping into my vision deepened. A burning pain blossomed in the base of my skull and fractured outward like broken glass. The searing heat branded my mind and promised it would all be over if I’d just do what I was hired to do. Kill.
I wrapped my hand delicately around her throat, matching my fingers up with the blueprint of death already laid out before me. She didn’t shy away, only stared back at me with parted, bluing lips. The feel of her smooth skin against my callused fingers jolted something deep inside me, and I stared in horror at what my hand was doing.
What I was doing.
Something shattered in my brain and the red film dissipated. The room upended in a tornado of swirling black with a single flickering light in the eye of the storm. Shrill whistling pierced my ears, and the surrounding darkness was beyond my reach. It didn’t respond like my shadows, instead burying me under a swell of shocked guilt.
A sudden sharpness, like nails biting into skin, pricked my shoulders.
“Noc, wake up. I’m here. I’m right here.” Leena’s strained voice broke through the horror, and the welcome pressure of her hands on my body yanked me from the turbulent storm.
I bolted upright and jerked away from her, terrified that I had hurt her. My gaze flew immediately to her neck. No blood. No purple bruises. Nothing but blissfully unmarred skin. Leena stared back at me, eyes wide and beautifully alive. Slowly, she raised her hand to cup my cheek, and I recoiled from her outstretched fingers.
Her hand froze midair. “Noc?”
Confusion and hurt played through her gaze. But only moments ago I’d been strangling her. My hands, my touch had stolen her life. A chill raced down my spine, and I studied my hands. It had felt so real.
“What happened?” I croaked. Our bedroom lazily swung back into view, just the hint of dawn light peeking beneath the bottom of the velvet curtains. A slight breeze toyed with the edges, thanks to the still-open balcony door. Closing it must have been the beginning of the nightmare.
“Nothing happened.” The lines mapping her forehead deepened. “Are you okay?” She tried again to inch her hand closer. I tensed, but forced myself to remain still, to let her fingers graze the side of my cheek. Warmth spurred to life beneath her gentle touch. It wasn’t her fault that my mind had conjured something so awful.
My shoulders slumped. A dream. It was just a dream. Right? “Yes. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s all right. Did you have a nightmare?” She fell back into bed and reached for me. I hesitated, wanting desperately to seek comfort in her embrace, but the memory of her caught beneath my grip was still so vivid. My hands trembled. Gently, she coaxed me down with her, fingers sliding soothingly through my hair. “Want to talk about it?”
Her steady breathing calmed my frayed nerves. “No.”
She sighed. “I get them too, you know.” Delicate fingers worked peaceful circles against my scalp, swirling and massaging in indecipherable patterns. “Wynn plagues my dreams.”
Every muscle tensed. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her tight. The velvet feel of her warm skin was so smooth here, but I knew if I allowed my fingers to travel south, to dance along the expanse of her legs, I’d find a map of raised scars. Slowly, I exhaled and let the unease my dream had brought slip away with it. My hell had only been a nightmare, but hers had been all too real.
“Get some rest.” I brushed a soft kiss against her collarbone.
“Mmm.” Her mumbled response was answer enough, and slowly the pressure of her fingers in my hair faded as sleep reclaimed her thoughts. But the tantalizing draw of peaceful slumber eluded me, and the barest shade of fiery red clung to the edges of my vision. Haunting. Beckoning. Whispering.
The oath was making itself known.
Three
Leena
Pulling the throw blanket I’d snagged higher about