32. LONNIE

32

LONNIE

THE CAVE, NEVERMORE

I awoke wrapped in warmth and confusion.

My awareness returned before I opened my eyes, and for a long minute I lay there marveling at the feel of my own body. I could feel my heart steadily beating. Feel my arms and legs, my fingers and toes. I could feel the slight burn of thirst in my throat, and hear the rushing of wind in my ears.

I wasn't sure I'd ever been grateful for those things before, but suddenly they seemed marvelous.

I squirmed slightly, and realized I could feel other things, too. So many other things.

My eyes popped open, and several realizations hit me all at once.

Firstly, I had no memory of how or why, but I was lying on top of Ambrose. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, as his bare chest rose and fell with each steady, sleeping breath. I was draped completely over him, my bare breasts pressed against his sculpted chest, my legs tangled with his, and…other areas…fit together entirely too well not to notice.

Secondly, and to that point: we were completely nude.

I was distantly aware that I should have been bothered by this, but instead I could only fixate on where we were and how exactly we'd gotten there.

I raised my head slightly, and it all came flooding back to me in a rush.

We were still in the snow cave.

That explained the position I'd woken up in. It seemed as if Ambrose had removed his cloak and laid it out on the floor, separating us from the icy ground below. Then, he shed his clothes, and mine, and used every scrap of fabric to cover us. I couldn't complain. Without his burning skin, several degrees warmer than mine on average, I would have surely succumbed to the cold.

I glanced behind me, more memories coming back in a steady stream.

Outside the door, I could see that the sky was still dark, and to our left… I turned to look, already knowing and fearing what I would find. Cassinda's dead body, reverted to her human shape, lay on the snow in a puddle of frozen blood. Her head was lying several feet from her body and staring up at me with wide eyes, already turning the milky-white of death.

I recoiled. By the Source…

Instinctively, I flexed my stomach muscles. I was half expecting to find my insides shredded, but the pain was gone.

What had happened here?

My movement roused Ambrose and he murmured in his sleep, shifting.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking several times. He looked up at me, and his eyes shot open fully. "You're alive!"

I frowned at him. Was it that bad? Why couldn't I recall all the details of what had happened?

Ambrose didn't seem to notice or care that I hadn't responded. His eyes, often distant, were suddenly blazing fire.

He sat up, inadvertently taking me with him as I tumbled sideways into his lap. Without preamble, he gripped my face tightly in both hands, and slammed his lips down on mine.

I gasped in shock and his tongue thrust between my parted lips. I moaned into his mouth, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper, more completely. His hand found my hair, while the other tugged me closer, holding me trapped against his chest.

Every press of his mouth and swipe of his tongue sent liquid heat racing through me, igniting every nerve in my body and leaving me breathless and wanting more.

My mind finally catching up with me, I crawled into his lap, letting all the clothing that had been piled on top of us fall away.

Abruptly, he pulled back, gasping. "I'm sorry."

My brow furrowed in confusion, my breath still coming out ragged. "Why?"

"I didn't mean to do it like that. Like this…" he looked down at all the clothing falling uselessly on the ground all around us. "You were far too cold."

"I know," I whispered, chasing his mouth. "I'm fine."

I want this. I want you. You're mine.

He shook his head again, seeming determined to act as if I hadn't been lying on top of him. As if he hadn't just kissed me like the world was about to end.

"Let me see your stomach," he demanded, reaching for me.

A spark of irritation shot through me, but I obliged, guiding his fingers to trail over the smooth skin of my abdomen. "I'm fine." I told him. "You're doing, I assume?"

I didn't really remember much of anything after the bear swiped at me. I must have been losing my mind from blood loss and cold, and anything and everything felt like a dream rather than something that had happened to me only hours ago.

I might have been surprised to find myself healed, except that I was alive. He must have given me his blood, or I surely would have never woken up.

"You healed me." I said, more of a statement than a question.

He shook his head. "I tried, but—" he broke off, looking at a complete loss.

"But what?"

His expression was chaos. Confusion, guilt, anger, relief. There was so much there I couldn't pick out any one emotion individually.

"I thought you died," he said finally.

My eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I'd been searching for you," he said, distractedly. "I couldn't find you anywhere. Scion was stuck up at the castle holding all the other hunters back, so I was alone."

"Is he alright?" I demanded.

"I assume so. It hasn't been that long. The hunt is still going on."

I bit my lip. If I'd been injured as badly as I remembered then I was sure Scion and Bael would have felt it. They were probably going out of their minds now, wherever they were.

"I found your footsteps in the woods," Ambrose continued. "But then you disappeared. I assumed you shadow walked."

"I did. Your fiancé was trying to kill me."

"She's not my fucking fiancé," he growled, gaze suddenly snapping back to mine. "If I could kill her again for hurting you I would do it a thousand times over."

I shivered, liking the angry growl in his voice, but now that he'd begun I wanted to hear the rest. I wanted to understand. "Then what happened?"

"I kept looking for you on foot. Then, I saw you. In a vision, which has hardly ever happened. I sprinted all the way here but I was too late. I killed the bear, but you were barely conscious. I could hear your heart failing, so I cut open my arm and gave you as much blood as I could force you to swallow."

He held up his left arm and showed me a deep gash from wrist to elbow. It was still oozing slightly, not healing like it should have.

"Why would you use a source forged blade?" I demanded.

"I wasn't thinking," he said angrily. It was as if he was relaying the story to himself as much as to me, words pouring out of him faster than he could process them. He looked at me, black eyes flashing midnight. "You were fucking dying in front of me. I would've torn my own heart out and given it to you. It's already yours, anyway."

I gasped.

What did he say?

He was staring at me with so much intense emotion raw on his face that it stole my breath. I could hear my own heart beating so loud that it seemed to echo between us. My entire body was humming, my skin buzzing, heat building all over my body.

Then, the realization hit me all at once.

It wasn't sudden or shocking, but rather sensible. Like a piece of a puzzle finally snapping into place, giving me the answers I'd been craving for my entire life.

He was mine.

My stalking shadow. My lover. My mate.

And with that realization came a sense of completeness that I'd never felt before, not even with Scion or Bael. It was the knowing that I was finished. I'd found all three, and now I was done searching.

I rose up on my knees so we were close to the same height, and moved so close that we were chest to chest once more.

His breathing was ragged, uncontrolled, and I could almost see the way he was holding himself back. Had been keeping himself on a leash for months, so that we could finally get to this moment.

"Do you know?" he asked, his tone almost desperate. "Please tell me you know, because I can't…I can't fucking do this anymore."

"Do what?" I asked, my lip curling slightly.

"I can't keep pretending that I don't know you're mine. Playing the villain, or the brother, or the friend. I can't keep pretending that I don't want you. I'm shit at it, anyway."

He was, I realized now. He'd dimmed himself for my benefit, waiting for me to have the realization on my own. But he hadn't shut down completely, and if I'd been less oblivious things could have been different.

I lifted my hands to his chest, just below his shoulders, and ran my palms slowly up I could wrap my arms around his neck. "Stop pretending, then."

He growled low in the back of his throat, and I felt him growing hard against my stomach, but still he gave me one last opportunity to flee. "Be careful, love. Think about what your asking before it's too late."

I brought my face so close that our lips brushed as I spoke. "I'm asking you to fuck me. I'm asking you to mark me and claim me."

"Why?" he demanded. "Say it."

"Because I'm your mate."