Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
A stiff breeze came in from the opposite direction and swirled around her, and he thought of his showy display with the wild flowers. He had wanted to impress her, but also to pay tribute to her. And he realized that part of her mystique, part of what he had been attracted to, had been an illusion, his mind filling in her characteristics—and downright creating others—until she was a construction he’d projected, a melding of her physical beauty, the allure of her grace, and also what he imagined she would seek to feel secure in this world.
He’d enjoyed what he’d created: If she was weaker than he was, then he was required. Want was a choice. Need was more forgiving out of necessity.
“You ended us out here first,” she said roughly. “Thus I end us now.”
At that, she pivoted back to the woods, crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, as if all his quiet was speaking for itself—and she was getting ready to walk off.
“Rahvyn.”
When she made a noise acknowledging him, he said, “Do you want to know what’s going through my mind at this moment?”
As she glanced over her shoulder again, that wind caught some of her hair again and carried it out from the crown of her head, the platinum waves glimmering in the moonlight.
“I love you,” he gritted. “The real you is even more beautiful than the illusion I manufactured. I’m not scared of you, and I don’t judge you. If I’m not talking, it’s because I’m worried I’m less necessary, and I don’t fucking know what to do about that.”
Her mouth opened. Then closed.
He continued. “I’m sorry that I created some kind of image of you. I wasn’t even aware of doing it, and you’re right. You are free to come and go. I was just… worried about your safety and it came out all wrong.” He glanced around. “Look, I’m just going to leave now because I’ve said waaaaaay too much tonight already. I’m going back to the clinic to check on Shuli and Nate, and I’d like to see you there. I’m sure they would as well. I’m assuming you know how to get to the training center from here. If you don’t, all you have to do is go into Luchas House and call me, and I’ll come back and guide you, if you want. I hope… well, I’d like you to see me when and if you’re ready. And if you decide you don’t want to… I get it, I really do.”
He wanted to touch her face. He kept his hands to himself.
“I bonded with who I thought you were,” he whispered. “But yeah, I’m in love with who you actually are.”
With that, he up and dematerialized, leaving her in the field of dead flowers.
Where the beauty of the moonlight was no match for the female who was bathed in heaven’s illumination.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
When Lash came back to consciousness, his eyes flipped open, and for a split second, he had no idea where he was. The room was wholly unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, from the luxurious silk drapes and ceiling fresco of a woodland scene to the Ming vase on a display pedestal and the Flemish still life of flowers over the French marble mantelpiece.
No fire crackling in the hearth, but the ambient temperature was nice and toasty enough.
Potpourri was simmering in a dish somewhere.
“You’re back.”
He looked to the voice. The demon was seated in a silk chair and wearing a glittering black evening gown that had a slit all the way up one side. With her long legs crossed at the knee, there was plenty showing, but in a tasteful way—and to top it all off, she was holding a Herend teacup with her pinkie extended so far out, it was like it had been broken and healed wrong.
Her chignon was a little dated, maybe, but her face was so beautiful, the sweeping style really worked for her.
Lash sat up and discovered he’d been lying on a tufted sofa that was covered in a coordinating blue and green. As a patterned throw pillow fell off, he bent down and picked it up.
God, he loved Scalamandré.
“So are you going to buy this house?” Devina motioned around with the teacup, her red nails fresh from a manicure, an Art Deco diamond bracelet he didn’t recognize twinkling at her wrist. “You don’t strike me as a male who wastes time window-shopping.”
“No.” His voice was rough so he cleared his throat. “I’m not buying it.”
“Too expensive for your bank account? That surprises me.”
“I have plenty of money.”
Placing his feet on an Aubusson rug, he stood up slowly and conducted an internal function review as he went vertical. Everything seemed to be working okay.
What the fuck had happened.
Devina smiled, her red lips lifting. “It’s easy when you can just conjure the cash, isn’t it. And humans think crypto is the way.”