Winterblaze - By Kristen Callihan Page 0,131

the scent of their lovemaking against his hot skin. Close enough to see the muscle tick at his jaw.

“Why not simply tell me?” Pain and ugliness would come with his answer. Even so, she pressed on. “Why write it all down?”

His shoulders hunched, and in the silence, the sounds of the household drifted up from below.

“Win.”

An eternity passed before he lifted his gaze to hers. His voice was ice crunching beneath a boot. “Because I won’t be here. And I wanted you to have something to… to remember me by.”

She could not breathe, could not move past the numbness taking hold of her limbs. She tried to speak, shuddered, then tried again. “W-what do you mean?”

Still he did not move, as if he too were frozen. His eyes filled, highlighting their winter-blue color, before a single tear spilled over, bumping its way down his ravaged cheek. “Boadicea.”

Her breath left in a gust. “The bargain. He’s taking your soul regardless of whether we succeed or not.”

He didn’t need to say a thing. It was written on his skin, in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dimly she heard something crack, the shattering of the lamp glass. Ice cold swirled about her.

He moved then, gathering her in his arms and pressing her against his warmth. “Stop.” He held her tighter. But she could not stop the cold that invaded her soul, nor stop it from slipping out to freeze the room.

“Why, Win?”

His lips brushed her temple. “Saying it aloud would make it real.” Then his fingers were in her hair, his cheek pressed hard against hers. “I did not want it to be true.”

She couldn’t stand it. She needed to move, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I will kill him.” She pushed against Win’s chest to little effect. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“We are going to meet him, and then I am going to destroy him, Win. I swear to God, I will.”

He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “You will not.” His fingers gripped her tighter. “You will not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“This is why you did not tell me.”

His expression grew implacable. “In part.” He leaned closer until they were nose to nose. “I will not have you risk your safety over me.”

Seething, Poppy pressed her palms against his chest. “Why is my life so much more valuable than yours?”

“Because of this.” His hand slid down to rest gently upon her abdomen. And her heart stopped. Win saw her understanding, and he nodded weakly. “You are my joy, and my purpose. I came alive when I met you.” His hand smoothed over her in a whisper of a caress. “But this babe inside of you. That is my legacy. You will protect him. See him grow and bloom.”

“Not alone…” She shivered, and he kissed her. Softly. So softly, as though he were cherishing it, memorizing the feel of it. Poppy tore her mouth away. “You will be here. With me. With us.”

His eyes traveled over her face, his touch upon her cheek tender. “I will never leave you. Not really.”

She squeezed his hands, uncaring if she crushed his fingers. “No! Not in spirit! You will be here. I cannot…” Blood coated her tongue, and she realized she’d bitten her lip. “I cannot do this without you, Win. I will not.”

His smile was tired, as if he’d already given up. She squeezed him harder, but he did not seem to notice. “Boadicea, not even your force of will can stop everything.”

“I can stop this!”

Win gave her a measured look. “Whatever you are thinking, don’t.”

But she most certainly would. Knowing he wouldn’t expect it, she shoved him hard, causing him to stumble back, then she fled into the dressing room.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Win stared at the space Poppy had vacated. That had gone well. “Shit.”

The look upon her face had reflected his misery. He ought to let her have her privacy. Only Poppy did not retreat as other ladies might. She fought. That she had closed herself up in the dressing room had his instincts clamoring to go after her. As instinct had kept him alive for years, he followed it now and went to the dressing room door.

“Poppy?”

Not a sound. He tried the handle, unsurprised to find it locked.

“Poppy Lane, open this door and talk to me.”

Nothing. Win raked his hands through his hair before slamming them on the door. “Open it, Poppy!”

When she did not answer, fury licked over him. “Right, then,” he shouted. “I’m coming in, whether you

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