War (The Four Horsemen #2) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,101

lose myself in the taste of him as he scoops me up and begins carrying me. I hear the rustle of canvas, and then War is setting me on my feet inside his tent.

He looks at me and things are different.

He’s different. The violence he carries around like a cloak is gone. My horseman seems … human.

Not looking away from me, War removes all of his armor, then all of his clothes, his expression serious.

He comes over to me and now it’s my turn. His hands are deft as he pulls off my shirt, then my pants. I just sort of stand there. We’ve undressed dozens of times, but not like this. Not with the horseman looking at me with so much life in his eyes.

Once I’m naked, he lowers us both to his bed. I’m dirty and bloody and weak with fatigue. This doesn’t ring of romance.

But when he presses my body to his, there’s nothing about it that feels sexual. Intimate—yes—but not sexual.

I take a ragged breath, my eyes going to War’s. “What are we doing?”

“You almost died,” he responds. There’s a wild edge to the horseman’s features. He lifts a shaky hand and tucks a strand of my brown hair behind my ear. “If I hadn’t rode in when I had …” Rather than finishing the sentence, he pulls me towards him, pressing a kiss to my lips, as if to make sure that I am still indeed, alive.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I say softly, when the kiss ends. “We’re all supposed to die.” My throat burns as I speak.

“Not everyone—not you.”

My eyelids are heavy.

I’m so tired. So, so tired. Whether it’s exhaustion from battle, smoke inhalation, blood loss, or War’s healing magic, my body is demanding sleep.

“I’m still human,” I murmur. I’m always going to be part of the problem in the horseman’s eyes.

“Yes,” War says. “You are painfully human. Your bones want to break, your skin wants to bleed, your heart wants to stop. And for the first time ever, I am desperate for none of those things to happen. I have never known true fear until now.”

The admission is so raw, so cutting, that I pull back from him a little, just to drink his expression in.

The horseman healed me once before, right after I was attacked. I was just as close to death then. But for all of War’s concern then, he hadn’t acted like this. Whatever icy heart he was given when he came to earth, it’s beginning to thaw bit by bit. And now I’m catching a glimpse of the true man beneath it.

I reach out and trace his lips. “You’re not as you seem,” I breathe, already drifting off.

War kisses the tip of my finger. “You never were.”

With those final words ringing in my ears, I slip off to sleep.

I wake to the press of fingertips. They trail down my back, each one feeling sure and steady. The touch is so pleasant, so unexpected, that I arch into it.

There’s a language to gestures. This one conveys a single emotion—

Beloved.

I squeeze my eyes tightly together, something thick lodging in my throat.

It’s been … a long time since I felt that way. And with a man, never like this.

I drag in a ragged breath when I remember the man behind the touch.

War.

But even with him, this is new. When I was attacked in my tent, he touched me with care, and since the deal we made, he’s touched me with desire and affection. This, however, this feels a lot like—

I can’t even think the word. The entire idea of it is too scary—and too impossible.

The horseman’s fingertips leave my flesh. A moment later, I feel the warm press of his lips against my back.

Too much. My heart feels like it’s going to burst.

I flip over, and my gaze meets War’s. His eyes have gone soft and deep.

He strokes my hair. “For millennia I’ve craved this.” Human connection, he means. “For millennia it’s been just out of my reach.”

Until now.

My pulse is picking up. I’m still naked underneath War’s sheets, and with the horseman this close, I’m so aware of that fact. Excitement and fear are mixing together.

I place a hand against his chiseled cheek. War turns his head, his lips brushing a kiss against my palm.

Now it’s my turn to go soft on him. I’ve seen the horseman lustful, angry, determined, vicious. Seeing this doting side of him completely changes each one of my responses.

“You undo me,” War says hoarsely.

My stomach

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