over my cheek. His touch is reverent, almost worshipful, and it’s intimidating and alluring all at the same time. I feel a fresh swarm of butterflies in my stomach at the feeling of his warm skin against mine, and have to resist the urge to lean into his touch.
“How did you get through it?” I ask him, almost afraid to know the answer. Storm is stronger than I am, bolder than I am, more decisive than I am. He was raised as a higher god, with the responsibilities to match. His life has been nothing but suffering and pain at the hands of his conniving relatives. He has the stomach for this life, and the willpower to push forward, even when the world feels like it’s collapsing all around him.
I don’t have that. I’m weak.
“I found you,” Storm replies huskily, his voice low and heady. Startled, I meet his purple gaze, pointedly aware of the fact that his hand is still on my face, that our bodies are within inches of each other. “Before I met you,” he says carefully, “I thought that the soft part of me, the…the gentle part, had died. A long time ago. It’s a necessary evil when you’ve lived through the things I have. It’s the way things have to be—you protect what’s yours, you do what you have to do, and you don’t let anyone too close.” Storm takes a ragged breath, a lock of black hair falling into his face as he drops his head. I resist the urge to reach out and brush it out of the way, too entranced by his words to make myself move. “But then…you showed up. You, with your fire, and your energy, and your determination…” He shakes his head, meeting my eyes once more. “Your light. That’s what it was, Karma. It was like you brought light back into my life when I had been living in darkness for so long.”
I can feel my heart pounding in my ears, adrenaline rushing through me in a cold wave as the intensity of what Storm is saying hits home. “You…really think that?” I ask him quietly.
Storm nods slowly, the look on his face brooking no argument. “When I first sent you to retrieve that crystal,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. Many don’t. And the ones that do…aren’t like you.” He runs his hand down my arm until it meets my own, his fingers intertwining with mine. “You were special. I think I knew that from the minute I first saw you. But the prison makes people cold. That’s what the adopted higher gods do: they take away our humanity. So when you came back out of that river, holding that crystal and looking like you were ready to take on the world in order to get out of there…” Storm runs a hand through his hair, looking like words are failing him. “That was when I knew I was in trouble.”
I give him a dry laugh, looking down at my lap and realising that my hands are shaking. Storm tightens his grip on me the slightest bit, his big hands steadying mine. “You must not have great taste in women, then,” I joke, unsure what to do with the praise.
Storm shakes his head grimly. “Hardly,” he says in that low voice, taking my chin in his free hand and turning me to look at him. The affection in his eyes is enough to make my stomach turn to mush. “I love you, Karma,” he tells me, his thumb brushing gently over my bottom lip. “And when this is over, I want to be with you.”
In spite of the rush of warmth that I feel, the overwhelming desire to tell him yes, I can also feel something coiling up in the pit of my stomach, a resistance that I’ve become familiar with over the past few days. My face falls, and I can feel my shoulders tense up even in spite of myself. “Killian and Seth,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
It’s all that needs to be said. Storm stays still for a long time, still watching me ardently. “I’ve…thought about them,” he admits after a long moment. “And I’ve thought about you. I…” He fidgets, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I realise I haven’t exactly made the best case for myself in this regard,” he says stiffly. “I haven’t been kind to them. Hell, I’ve hurt them.” He licks his lips, clearly unsure of