CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

My heart ached at the loss and pain carved into the lines of Thoran's face. It shifted with the firelight, cutting hollow grooves between his eyes.

I hated seeing him so lost. I hated that I didn't know what to do to help him. Did I believe what he was telling me?

Yes.

I believed it because he believed it, but also, there was so much tragedy. So much darkness in that house. How could it not be steeped in some truth?

"You need to go, Blue," he murmured, fingers pinching my chin. Thumb tracing the bottom curve of my lip. "You need to forget me and never look back."

I caught his wrist. Not to stop him, but in case he tried to pull away. "I can't."

A muscle flexed in his jaw, a hardening that matched the dark glint in his eyes. The hand I held moved up to the back of my head and pulled me closer.

But I kissed him.

I closed what sliver of space he was trying to leave between us and captured his mouth. my arms tangled around his neck, pulling him to me.

"Fuck, Blue!" he growled into the kiss, and I did something I swore to Malcolm I would never do.

"Naya," I whispered.

Thoran went rigid against me. His heart kicked against my chest. A vicious thump that vibrated all the way through me. His eyes flew open, and I found myself lost in the sea of whiskey illuminated by the fire behind me.

I wondered, for just a moment, if I'd made a mistake. I'd only known this man less than a month. I still had no idea what his connection to Jarrett was. I didn't know if he would betray me. Hurt me.

But then his lips cracked into a smile brimming with unimaginable delight. A radiant exultation that squeezed around my heart with such ferocity that I would have told him anything he wanted if he promised to smile at me like that forever.

"Naya," he repeated as if whispering a prayer. His fingers grazed the curve of my jaw, tucked beneath my chin. "I have never loved a name so much."

Heat and euphoria swept through like a raging inferno. My head swam with the rush of giddy happiness the mere whisper of my name on his lips had invoked. I wanted to blush and giggle and cry all in the same breath, but all I could do was stare at his mouth and wish he'd say it again.

"I..." I began, not exactly sure what I'd been wanting to say, but knowing I had to explain, to tell him why.

"I don't care," he said. "I don't fucking care. None of it matters."

The weak part of me desperately wanted to be frozen in that moment with Thoran's arms around me and my name on his tongue, but knew it couldn't last. Our time together was a handful of sand in a glass, and it was quickly running out, and I had never been so heartbroken.

"Thoran."

Even to my own ears, his name was a plea. A choked breath of misery wedged in my chest. It hurt.

Hurt to sit there.

Hurt to leave.

Hurt to be anywhere that wasn't in his arms.

It felt like the brink of madness. Like we were both teetering so close, and the only thing keeping us steady was the other's hold.

Overwhelmed.

Terrified.

I sank my face into the curve of his neck and let the soft crackle of the fire, the easy rhythm of his breathing soothe me.

I would have stayed there for the rest of my life, surrounded by his scent and warmth if the subtle little knock hadn't interrupted our peace.

"Ignore it," Thoran murmured into the hollow at my temple.

I chuckled. "You can't. What if it's important?"

"It's not." But he sighed, pressed a kiss to the spot and shouted for the person to come in.

I tried to rise as the door opened, but he held me there, firm and possessive, and I didn't try to fight it.

"Cooke wants to know where you would like supper," Cyrus said, eyes fixed on the fire.

Thoran peered at me. His eyebrow raised. "Bed?"

Amused by his teasing, I shook my head. "The dining room is fine."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Fine." He turned to Cyrus. "Tell Cooke we'll be there in a few minutes."

With an inclination of his head, Cyrus closed the door once more, leaving me with the man stealing strips of my sanity with every brush of his fingers across my cheek and down the line of my neck. That simple caress awakened nerve endings I didn't even know I possessed.

"We should get ready," I panted, hyper aware of the goose bumps scattering across my entire body. My nipples tingled, tightening inside the lace cup of my bra.

Thoran hummed meditatively, replacing his skirting digits with his lips. "Naya."

"Hm?" I moaned, head tipping back, offering the lion my jugular.

"My Naya." His tongue dipped into the hollow of my throat. "My sweet Naya."

No matter how many times he drawled my name, hot waves of ecstasy coursed through me. I would listen to him until my last breath and still never get tired of it.

"Will—?"

Another knock filled the space. Interrupted the hand he was sneaking under my top.

"Jesus Christ, Cyrus! We fucking know," he shouted.

"Handley's at the door."

The name prickled something at the back of my mind, but it wasn't until Thoran snarled in his throat and muttered, "Jeannette," that it finally clicked into place.

The sheriff.

A police officer who would ask questions I couldn't answer. Plus, I held a piece of glass to a woman's neck and threatened to kill her entire family.

"Thoran?" I whispered, heart in my throat.

Thoran kissed my brow. "He's not going to touch you," he promised.

That hadn't been my only concern, but I knew to voice the others would raise questions I couldn't answer.

Thoran was already helping me to my feet. His large hand closed gently over my mummified one and he brought the fingertips to his lips once before leading me from the room.

In the foyer, he stopped at the base of the stairs and faced me. "Go up and prepare for dinner. Stay there until I come get you, okay?"

I nodded and got a kiss before I made my way up. At the top, I glanced back to find Thoran watching me. His amber eyes bright in the dimness. They were the last thing I saw before I rounded the corner and stopped.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Thoran to handle the situation, but I couldn't just hide in my room and wait for my fate.

The front door groaned open, and I heard the shuffle of feet on marble. Several feet. I didn't dare steal a peek, but there was more than one person with the sheriff.

"Mr. Lacroix," came a deep, reverberating baritone voice that echoed off the chamber walls. "I apologize for disturbing you at this late hour. We had a formal complaint."

"About me?"

There was a pause, then very slowly, the sheriff said, "No sir, about the lady you were with today at the village."

Thoran hummed, but that was it. He didn't confirm or deny my existence.

"We need to talk to her, sir," Handley said.

"No."

No explanation.

No hesitation.

The single word vibrated with a finality I would have immediately obeyed.

Handley sighed. "Mr. Lacroix—"

"It's dinner time, Handley."

"I just have a couple of questions."

"Ask."

"Sir?"

"Ask your questions, Handley."

There was frustration in Handley's tone. "That isn't how it works. I have a member of my community claiming they were attacked with a weapon and have the injuries to prove it. Jeannette Roberts is a pain in all our asses, but she's still one of mine and I need to get to the bottom of this situation."

"She was disrespectful. She was talked to — quite gently, I might add — about her behavior. That's it. Cyrus was there."

"It was just a chat," Cyrus agreed.

I heard Handley draw in a breath. "Jeannette isn't like most people. She's not going to stop with this until she gets results."

"Leave Jeannette to me, sheriff. I'll smooth things over," Thoran promised.

"Thoran..."

"Just a chat," Thoran assured him. "It's all been a misunderstanding that I'll have cleared up before morning."

There was a pause before Handley muttered, "She's a mother and soon to be grandmother, Mr. Lacroix, and a big part of the community. People will notice—"

"I don't know what you're implying, Handley, but I don't like it. I said I would handle it and I will. How I do that is my business."

"I don't think it even needs to go that far if I could talk to the girl—"

"No. I don't care what grievance Jeannette has, she can deal with me."

There were more attempts from Handley to sway Thoran into giving me up. They weren't demands but firm requests. Even he knew to tread lightly around a man like Thoran, but he had a job to do.

I abandoned my corner and hurried to my room to change before Thoran came to get me.

I washed up and chose a curve hugging, backless dress in black with thin straps over the shoulders and a deep, enticing neckline. I applied Thoran's favorite lipstick, swept my hair up in an updo supported by a single claw clip and pulled on black pumps with silver trims.

It was carefully selected, despite the rush. I had wanted something he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off.

I wanted him hungry and on the brink.

I wanted him to look at me as if his next breath depended entirely on me, because I was going to seduce Thoran Lacroix into my bed before the night was over.