"What's that supposed to mean?" she whispers, blinking rapidly and refusing to look at my face.
I consider not answering. I hate answering questions people already know the answer to. But when it comes to Skye, I'm willing to give her that little extra. "It means, you're torn in different directions. Part of you wants to be with your sister in another Sanctuary. But you won't be happy there, which is why you accepted the assignment to distribute the vaccine." I fall silent for a few seconds, giving her time to absorb my first point before I continue. "Another part of you wishes you could climb into the grave with your dead husband." She opens her mouth to disagree with me, but I continue, "And the rest of you wants me as badly as I want you, but can't reconcile that desire with my previous two points. If you decide to settle down and stay with me in Sanctuary, then you’ll be giving up the ghost of your husband and the possibility of living in the same place as your only living family."
Tears spring to her eyes, creating a jewellike gleam that mesmerizes me. The tears tell me that I'm correct in my assessment. Before she can argue or break down completely, I take her arm in a gentle grip.
"Let's eat, then we can sleep."
"I'm not hungry," she mumbles, but shuffles her feet in an effort to keep up with me when I start walking.
"Eat anyway, you'll need your strength."
"For what?" she asks curiously. "Are we going zombie hunting again?"
I'm relieved to hear a hint of humour return to her voice. As much as I love and desire this woman, I despise seeing the muddled confusion in her. The depression. The grief that she’s spent a lifetime battling. I want to hold her close and keep her safe forever. But I can't keep her safe from herself. Until she realizes that she needs to heal, I will protect her and give her all the time she needs.
"Not zombie hunting, but you'll need energy for the coming battle."
"Battle?" she asks incredulously.
"Battle," I reiterate seriously. "Because unless you intend to come to my bed easily, I anticipate one hell of a fight."
Like the flip of a switch, her mood turns rapidly to anger and she pulls away from my grip. "If you think I'll willingly share a bed with you, you better prepare yourself for disappointment."
"Just remember, for every hit you land, I will take a kiss in reparation."
She gives me the finger and storms away, then realizes she’s heading toward a dead-end hallway. She halts in her tracks, lets out a huff of annoyance, turns on her heel and stomps past me toward the dining hall. I smile after her, eyes on her swaying hips. She might not be peace and serenity, but she’s mine and I’m keeping her.
Thirty-One
Skye
My first night in the Warlord's chambers does not go quite as expected. After our evening meal together, I try to leave again. Without a word, Wolfe picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, slaps my ass much harder than necessary and strides toward the Warlord’s bedchamber.
He tosses me onto his bed but doesn’t watch to see if I land okay. Instead, he turns away from me and immediately begins stripping off his clothes. Assuming that he intends to have sex with me, I yank my knife from my belt and hold it out in front of me. I’d told him our last encounter was a one-time deal. If he so much as touches me, I’ll stab him until he understands.
He continues to ignore me as he washes up in a bowl of warm sudsy water that had been left on the table beside the window. The same bowl where he washed my hands a few weeks ago.
Once he finishes, he dries his hands and walks naked to the bed. I finally get a good view of his monster cock and it damn near drives me off the bed. He put that thing inside me – no wonder it hurt so much! Even flaccid it hangs down his thigh. Under my scrutiny it starts to come to life, blood slowly filling it as its true size is gradually revealed.
Wolfe says nothing about my blatant stare, the fact that his body is becoming excited or the knife I’m holding like it’s my last line of defense. I move to the edge of the bed as he flips the blanket back, lies down, drags the bedding across his lower body and falls asleep completely nude, his engorged cock tenting the blanket.
Feeling ridiculous, I slowly lower my arm and sheath the knife. I can tell by his deep, even snores that Wolfe is well and truly asleep. His face has softened, though soft is not a word one could apply to Wolfe. His complete lack of expression gives him a slightly more boyish look. I almost want to reach out and trace the scar that crosses over his eye. I want to lift the eyepatch to see what's beneath. I wonder if he’s sleeping with it on because I’m here or if he never takes it off. Somehow, I suspect that no matter how gruesome the sight, it won't change the way I feel about Wolfe.
To be honest, I don't know exactly how I do feel about Wolfe. I can't honestly say I hate him, but he still makes me angrier than any other person I’ve ever met. Besides maybe Talon, the Outsider who sold me to Santa Fe Sanctuary in the first place. I'd had my revenge though, shooting him right between the eyes when he attempted to do the same with my sister.
I slide off the bed and walk as quietly as possible to the water basin, my eyes on Wolfe. He doesn't even twitch. One arm is dangling off the side of the bed, the other bent at the elbow and stretched to curve around his head. Even in sleep his bicep bulges impressively.
I begin to strip off my own clothes, wrinkling my nose as they fall to the floor and a dirty metallic smell wafts up. I'd forgotten about the Primitive blood splattered across my outfit. When we got back from the hunt, we come straight up here and ate without stopping to wash or change. I strip until I’m naked, confident that Wolfe won't wake up. Even if he does, he seems exhausted enough that he probably won't do anything about my nudity.
I dip the sponge sitting next to the bowl into the water. It's cloudy with the dirt that came off Wolfe, but it's not unusable. I wash my face first, then my armpits, genitals and limbs. Feeling much better, I rifle through a clothes chest, searching for something appropriate to wear to bed. If Wolfe plans on trapping me here, then I can help myself to whatever I find in the Warlord's chambers.
I come up with a soft shirt that looks as though it used to be white, but through age and hard wear has faded to an almost see-through off-white colour. I pull it over my head and decide that it’ll work just fine. The huge shirt gapes around my breasts, but it goes down to my knees, which is enough coverage.
I crawl into the bed on the other side from Wolfe and wiggle under the covers. As I lie down and my eyes drift shut, the last thought I have is that the Warlord’s bed is extremely comfortable. I should have it moved to the harem where I can enjoy it in peace. I fall asleep with a sigh of contentment on my lips.
Less than an hour later Wolfe and I are woken up by a thunderous banging sound. I sit up with a gasp and reach for the gun that I always keep beside the bed. I glance over at Wolfe, who’s blinking blearily into the darkness, holding a knife in one hand and his gun in the other. We look at each other for a few seconds and then Wolfe leaps from the bed, every trace of sleep gone as he strides naked from the room.
Not wanting to be left out, I hurry after him, my gun still clutched tightly against my side. I stay at his back as he approaches the main doors of the Warlord's chambers. He glances at me before reaching high over his head and grabbing a key from the top of the door. I raise my eyebrow at him. Not a great hiding spot, I would've eventually figured out to look there.