was pressed against his torso, and I leaned against his strongly built frame.
Valentin tensed when I lifted my head. When I looked up into his eyes, they were wide and braced, as though I was about to react. As if I were about to say something that would crush his soul.
Nervousness trickled into my body. Lifting my hands to pull his head down to me, I asked, “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, are wide and filled with apprehension, but I don’t why. You need to talk to me, Valentin. I love you. Please let me in.”
Valentin expelled a rough breath. Seeming full of frustration, he turned on his heel and pushed out of the shower. He left the bathroom without drying off or taking a towel. Wanting this resolved now, I followed.
My skin shivered as my nakedness hit the cooler air of the bedroom. But I ignored it. My eyes fixed on Valentin, who was sitting on the end of the bed. He head was in his hands, his knuckles white and his muscles flinching.
I approached slowly and spoke. “Valentin—”
“How is it that you’re with me?” Valentin interrupted. I stilled, shocked and confused by his very direct question.
“How is it that I’m with you?” I asked gently, not wanting to upset him more.
Valentin lifted his head and his tortured blue eyes bored into mine. My heart sank when I saw real doubt etched on his face. He really meant this. He meant every single word. He couldn’t understand why I was here with him.
“Valentin,” I spoke, “I love you. Surely that is reason enough?”
Valentin looked down at his hands, his palms upturned. He glared at his hands and said, “I hurt you. I caused you pain. I made you scream. How can you love me? Lots of time has gone past, and I keep waiting, I keep waiting for you to realize that you thought you loved me, because I had captured you and made you bend to my will. Every day when you wake, I wait for you to see the real monster lying in your bed. I wait for you to tell me to leave, disgusted by what I’ve done to you.”
My mouth dropped open hearing such rawness, the sheer pain in his voice. “I won’t,” I assured.
But Valentin got to his feet and shook his head. “You will. I took your innocence and made you mine. You said it yourself; I am a thief of hearts. I stole your first kiss with these lips. I stole your virgin barrier. And I took you, possessed you, made you mine. And I did that. I did that without your permission. I took it. And foolishly, you fell in love with me, the fucking ugly beast.”
Anger stirred within me. Stepping forward, I pointed at his chest, and I shouted, “I may have fallen for you, beast or not, but never call me foolish! I may have been untouched, but I was anything but innocent. I wanted you. Despite how fucked-up it sounds, I wanted to feel your hand caress me when I was shackled to that wall. Not at first; at first you terrified me. Of course I feared you, but when I saw the real you emerge through my pleasure, I craved you. I wanted you to take me.”
“That’s fucked up, Zoya,” he stated plainly.
“Then it’s fucked up. I don’t care.”
Valentin’s lips pulled over his teeth and he stepped forward to meet me. His huge frame towered over me. The scowl on his scarred and stern face should have induced fear. But for me, it didn’t.
Valentin peered down at me and, grabbing my hand, he brought it to his face. He ran my fingers over his deep scars—on his cheeks, on and over his eyes, down the side of his lips, and down to his chest. I watched my roving hand, but Valentin stopped, too many scars on his skin to pick one out.
He guided my palm to stop on his ruined face and asked, “How can you want this?” There was no longer any anger in his voice; instead his shoulders had slumped and his expression pleaded with me for an answer.
I couldn’t give one. His face was beautiful to me. Scarred, ruined, or not.
“I have looked in the mirror since we have been free. The drugs have finally gone from my body, allowing me a clarity I’ve never had before. And I can see me. I can see the man