Chapter 23

Selene traced her finger across a seam of the quilt on her bed and frowned. She counted her breaths for a full minute. Then another minute. And another before she punched her pillow in frustration. It must be well past midnight, and she still hadn't been able to fall asleep.

When she let out a huff of annoyance, the sound scratched her throat, making her realize she was thirsty. That must be it. She was restless and agitated because she was thirsty. Definitely not because she couldn't stop thinking about Sam.

She wondered how he was sleeping tonight. For her, it felt positively luxurious to have a room to herself. And yet, after many nights of sleeping within a few feet of each other, it felt strange to be separated.

I miss him.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing it wasn't so easy to lose herself in daydreams of Sam. All night she had been stifling fantasies about how his muscles would feel flexing under her hands or how his lips would taste.

Get a grip. She was playing a dangerous game, especially now that she had seen his darker side. Selene flung back the covers. Maybe if she got up to grab a quick glass of water, she'd doze off soon after.

The house was peaceful as she crept out, but the wooden stairs squeaked as she descended. She waited to see if the sound had disturbed anyone, but all she could hear was Eldridge snoring. Or was that Brunie? She glanced back at the door leading to Sam's attic room and saw it was closed.

Selene was not surprised to find the kitchen as snug and tidy as the rest of the house. It even smelled clean, like lemon and sugar. Cool light from a full moon streamed in through the wide bank of windows that ran above the sink and counter. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling beams along with a variety of pots and pans.

When she approached the sink, she caught a glimpse of the brilliant moon through the window. It was too high to see from where she stood, so impulsively, she hoisted herself up to sit on the wooden countertop. She pressed her face closer to the glass.

The silver orb was like a luminous pearl. Its light bathed the trees and plants outside the cottage with a dreamy glow. Selene sighed. Was it a full moon back home too? She tucked her bare feet up under her nightgown and leaned her head against the window frame.

No matter how strange Aurelia was, no matter how many monsters, legends, and strange beasts it held, it was nice to imagine that they all looked up at the same moon. Cass and Evan could be looking up at that moon right then too. The familiar wave of worry and guilt surfaced when she thought about how concerned everyone must be about her. Would she ever see them again? Would they ever know what happened to her?

A blast of cold air and the sound of a door shutting made her jump. She looked toward the side door with alarm, trying not to pitch herself over into the sink. It was only Sam.

"What's wrong?" he asked sharply. "Why are you down here?" His thick hair was disheveled, and his boots were dirty. The darkness of the hallway made his chiseled cheekbones more pronounced, and his horns gleamed. He looked wild, brooding, and a bit dangerous.

"Nothing. I came down for a glass of water," she said. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counter while her feet dangled.

"Why are you sitting up there?" His movements were agitated as he took off his coat.

"Oh, I… I wanted to see the moon. It's so pretty tonight," she gestured to the window, realizing how silly she must sound. "What were you doing outside?"

"I was helping Eldridge in the barn. He grew tired, but I stayed to finish a few things."

"That's sweet of you."

He frowned before bending to remove his boots, making her wonder if it would actually kill him to accept a compliment. The muscles in his arms flexed through his tunic while powerful hands pulled at the laces of his boots. His hands were surprisingly nimble for their size. She had seen him crush bones with those hands but also tenderly scratch a kitten behind its ears. Her face grew hot as she wondered if he could be that deliberate with her. What his rough palms would feel like on her skin.

He met her eyes, almost as if he could sense what she was thinking. His gaze flickered to her mouth, her breasts, the junction of her thighs, then down to her bare feet before traveling back up again. Her cotton nightgown felt very thin and insubstantial. She began to twirl a lock of hair between her fingers, and his eyes locked on the action.

Tentatively he said, "The moonlight. It makes you look… nice."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Thank you."

He began patting dirt and dust away from his clothes while Selene wondered why she was still hanging around the kitchen. A sensible person would have hopped off the counter and run up to bed by now. Yet the ache in her belly seemed to anchor her to where she sat.

Sam cleared his throat. "Did you get your water? I don't see a glass."

Selene felt like an idiot. "Oh, no, I got distracted by the moon. Do you know where Brunie keeps the glasses?"

Sam came toward her with slow, measured steps. Blood throbbed in her veins at the way he was moving, almost like a predator. The top of his tunic was open, revealing a patch of pearlescent skin. Selene swallowed, suddenly very clear on what other women meant when they used the word "mouthwatering" to describe certain men. She reached up to rub her shoulder, hoping the gesture would hide the way her nipples tightened.

Wordlessly, he pulled out a glass from a nearby cupboard and began filling it. The movement caused the side of his body to bump into her knees, and he drew back, almost as if the contact burned. Then he paused before deliberately brushing his hip against her knees and leaning into the touch. She didn't pull away. Delicious warmth radiated from him, and she caught a hint of the woodsy soap she had picked for him in Padu mixing with the scent of hay. He handed her the glass.

"Thank you," she said. Her fingers brushed against his, causing little fireworks of pleasure throughout her body. She had intended to sip the water but found herself gulping it.

She expected Sam to huff out of the kitchen at any moment, but he stayed, watching her with hooded eyes. He was unabashedly staring at her mouth as a drop of water clung to her bottom lip. She wiped it away with her tongue and could have sworn she saw him sway on his feet.

She set the glass down. Her head was beginning to swim as if she were buzzed from too much wine. The feel of him pressed against her legs was distracting. What if she changed position and spread her knees apart? Would he come closer? Wedge his body between her thighs and pull her against him?

Shut up, stop this.

The tension of the moment was getting to be unbearable, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from breaking it.

"So, uh… did you see the moon when you were outside? You might not be able to see it from where you're standing. That's why I climbed up here. I was thinking how funny it is how everyone looks up at the same moon. Not funny, ‘ha ha,' but funny odd. The moon I grew up seeing is the same one everyone in Aurelia looks at. I guess it's the same in the other worlds too. Same with the sun. Reassuring in a way, isn't it? Same moon. Everybody sees it. But not in the Underworld, right?" Nervously, she brushed an errant strand of hair from her eyes.

Sam leaned forward to look out the window.

"No. Its light does not reach the Underworld. I'm glad it gives you comfort."

She looked at her knees, hoping he didn't notice the goosebumps scattered across her bare arms. Being at eye level with his body next to hers was… disconcerting. His sheer maleness felt overwhelming. So much power, brutality, and strength, and yet his eyes were haunted. His scarred hands were at his sides, opening and closing as if he were trying to resist touching something. Possibly her.

In a strained voice, he asked, "Do you want more water?"

"No, I'm fine. I should get back to bed," she said, halfway hoping he would ask her to stay. "It's late. I couldn't sleep, but I guess I'm pretty tired now. Oh look, you've got a bit of hay in your hair."

Without thinking, she reached up to touch the errant piece of hay tangled in the hair at the top of his head. As her fingers threaded through the soft thickness, one of his hands gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles gone white.

As she drew out the hay, her fingers brushed against one of his horns, and he sucked in a breath. His eyes squeezed shut, as if in pain, and quickly, she pulled her hand back into her lap.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… Are you okay?" His chest heaved causing Selene to feel mortified by her bold gesture. Touching a demon's horns must be very taboo, or maybe very painful? "I'm so sorry. Does it… does it hurt to have them touched?"

He opened his eyes. Bright red irises met hers, but they weren't looking at her with murderous rage like when he attacked that Lycah. Searing desire burned in his gaze, along with a yearning so stark it made her gasp. Before her brain could decide if she should be afraid or aroused, he spoke.

"Do it again."

It felt like all the air had gone out of the room. Their eyes locked, and liquid fire pooled in her abdomen. He wanted more. More of her touch. More of her. She was helpless to deny him.

Hesitantly, she traced her fingers around his horn, slowly stroking it from the base, up the S-shaped curve to the sharp tip. It was surprisingly warm, unyielding as steel and so foreign to anything she had ever touched before.

He let out a soft moan and closed his eyes. Taking it as a sound of encouragement, she continued to caress his horn before lacing her fingers into his hair. As she did, his hand tightened on the edge of the sink while the other shot out to grip the counter opposite her knees. He stood perfectly still as she continued to touch him, twining her fingers through the dark strands and admiring how shiny they looked in the moonlight. Her heart hammered in her chest so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.

As she continued to revel in the feel of him, the back of her fingers brushed against his temple. His big body jerked in response. She waited to see if he would tell her to stop, yet he continued to stand still. A silent plea for more. Experimentally, she drew her fingers down his face and watched a look of rapture transform his features. When her hand met his jawline, Sam's hand flew up to capture her arm.

With an agonized groan, he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. The searing kiss sent out jolts of heat that settled between her legs. The delicate skin of her wrist was like a conductor of erotic pleasure to the rest of her body, his mouth calling awake parts of her that she had long denied.

Her head tipped back. The pleasure of his touch, his heady fragrance, and the warmth of his body so close to hers became so overwhelming, she couldn't suppress a moan.

His eyes flew open at the sound, and he abruptly dropped her wrist. He took a step back. "Forgive me, forgive me… my control… I… "

He had mistaken her sound of pleasure as a protest. Selene could see him gearing up to storm off in a brooding tornado of self-loathing. But she couldn't let that happen. He needed to know he wasn't the only one who felt the pull they had to each other or this feeling of connection, of desire that she couldn't seem to shake. He wasn't going to leave her alone with those feelings, not tonight.

"Wait!" She grabbed both of his shoulders to hold him in place. And then, without thinking, weighing the pros and cons, or dissecting her decision, she kissed him fully on the mouth.

When he froze, Selene felt a stab of panic that her advances were unwelcome. But then he took a clumsy step closer and seemed to melt into her. His arms shot around her back and waist to squeeze her to him. Emboldened, Selene spread her knees, inviting him closer and offering more access to her body. He greedily accepted.

Grabbing her hips, he jerked her body toward him, and she gasped at the feel of his massive erection pressing right where she needed it most. The tips of his claws bit into her as he clasped her to him. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers. When his lips parted slightly, Selene seized the opportunity to sweep her tongue inside. He responded instantly, rolling and thrusting his tongue against hers. His taste was addictive, dark but with an edge of smoky sweetness, like good whiskey. All she wanted was more. Her head angled to the side to deepen the kiss, and she felt him shudder.

It was a kiss that spoke of hunger and desperation. A kiss of unleashed passion and barely restrained control. A kiss that burned like fire but quenched a biting ache inside her.

Her hands roved up and down his back before he traced his lips across her jaw and down her neck. The way his muscles twitched and jerked under her fingers was thrilling. A demon—a huge, fearsome creature straight from the Underworld—was trembling under her touch. Holding her body against his as if he would die without it.

One of Sam's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. The light kisses on her neck turned to swirling licks of his tongue and not-so-gentle nips of teeth before his tongue danced around the V-neck of her nightgown. His touch was becoming rougher, more urgent, and she pressed closer to him. She wanted to drown in his passion. Bury herself in his strength and fully embrace the wild abandon she felt.

Smoothing his hands to her shoulders, he gathered handfuls of her nightgown, as though he were about to rip the fabric straight from her body. A tiny, practical part of her brain cried out that he was about to destroy the gorgeous nightgown Arkaya had made for her, and she stiffened.

The buttons! Use the buttons!

He seemed to notice her tension in her and growled. The sound was menacing—a wordless warning that said, don't deny me. His fists tightened on her nightgown, and all she could gasp out was a weak, "No!"

He abruptly dropped his hands and stumbled back, his chest heaving.

Selene's lust-addled brain wasn't working right, so she just stared at him. When she regained the slightest composure, she opened her mouth to tell him what she meant. That she didn't mean for him to stop completely, but he cut her off. "Don't say a word. My control is not… This was a mistake."

"But Sam, I—"

"Don't!"

Her mouth snapped shut at the threat in his voice. His jaw clenched, and he looked up at the ceiling, seeming to fight for control. He ran a shaky hand over his face and then looked at her, his red eyes skimming over her bare skin before a mask of cold indifference shuttered his features. He snarled, "This cannot happen again," then stomped out of the kitchen.