MARK OF LOVE (Lovemark #3)

18. Quilla-1

Chapter 18

Quilla

I glared at the horizon, gauging the time. The sun had long since dipped behind the skyline and even the pretty colors that followed were beginning to fade. Soon, all daylight would be gone. And Indigo hadn’t returned from the spring yet, where he’d claimed he was going to bathe.

Except baths did not last this long.

I spun toward Melaina. “What exactly did you tell him about the Graykey curse while I was gone?” I knew I shouldn’t have left those two alone together. She’s probably scared him off for good.

My aunt fished a carrot from her steaming bowl of stew and blew on the spoon before answering—because, yes, he’d even been gone long enough for me to cook supper.

“I told him everything, sweets.”

Oh, great. It was definite, then; he was never coming back. He’d heard about my genes full of crazy and decided to get out while the getting was good. We wouldn’t be hearing from that High Clifter again.

Unless it was to return with an army full of his friends to extinguish us.

“Well, he’s taking an awfully long time bathing, don’t you think?” I muttered to combat my panic over the fact that I might not see him again.

Melaina smirked and waited until her mouth was no longer full of stew before she patted her lips with a napkin and chuckled. “After watching the way he looked at you before booking it out of here, I’m not at all surprised he’s been gone so long.”

I sat up in alarm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

How had he looked at me? With horror? Revulsion? Loathing? He was mated to a product of monstrous people. How else would he have looked at me?

“With stark, raving lust, my dear,” Melaina finally answered. “He wanted to f**k you. Badly. Why, from the way he tore out of here, he probably didn’t even wait until he got to the stream before he started masturbating.” Finding a chunk of potato in her soup, she brightened and chased it around with her spoon, intent to catch it. “He’ll probably j******f a few times at least before returning,” she told me before plunking the spud into her mouth.

I frowned at her conclusion, thinking that couldn’t be true, even as a small vain place in me warmed around the idea that I could maybe, possibly arouse him to such a degree. In a perfect world where I could gain a mate who loved me and lived happily ever after with me, that would be nice.

But that was fantasy. And this was reality. He couldn’t desire me like that. It just wasn’t possible.

“Or he ran off to find friends so he could return and s*******r both of us,” I countered.

Melaina laughed. “You really believe that?” she asked. “After the impassioned speech he gave you not even two hours ago about how he’d never leave you and you were his future, no matter what?”

“He only said that malarkey to gainsay whatever I was saying,” I muttered, not sure if I believed my own words. “He likes to disagree with me, if you hadn’t noticed. The man will spout any lie to make himself look right.”

Melaina shrugged. “Well, I disagree. He seems like the pathetically honest type to me.”

I threw up my hands in disgust. “You are the most wishy-washy woman I’ve ever met, I swear. One second, you’re all fired up and ready to kill him; and the next, you can’t seem to praise him enough. Will you just make up your damn mind already? Is he a saint or a devil?”

Lifting her chin arrogantly, Melaina squared her shoulders. “He waffles. And I can change my mind if I like.”

“Every three seconds?” I asked dryly.

She shrugged. “If it suits me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“And would you look at that?” She motioned with her spoon, pointing past me. “Here comes your true love now. Guess he didn’t run off, after all. Happy now?”

I whirled around, gasping slightly when I saw a dark form approaching through the trees. At first, it was hard to tell if it was actually Indigo or not, but then he stepped from the shadows and his distinct silhouette took shape along with the familiar way he walked.

A sudden and crisp rush of relief flooded my veins. He hadn’t left me. Thank God.

No, wait. That wasn’t what I meant. I just—

I only meant I was relieved he hadn’t run. It would’ve been annoying to have to chase him down before he’d alerted anyone to our whereabouts. We really would’ve had to kill him then. And I’d prefer to leave the Outer Realms without any blood on my hands. I didn’t want to succumb to the Graykey stereotype that we were just a brood of murderers.

But Indigo must’ve caught on to the sensation of relief rushing from me, because he paused, glancing up curiously. I hoped he didn’t rightly—er, wrongly—assume I’d been worried about him because I cared, or anything. Since I definitely didn’t care. Not at all. Not even about how incredibly attractive he was.

Water dripped off clumps of wet hair spiking from his head, and his clothes held damp spots that stuck to his torso, revealing cut muscles I’d never seen on him before. Dear God, but who knew his tunic had been hiding such nicely defined shoulders and biceps.

Clearing my throat, I sat up a little straighter and reenacted one of Melaina’s superior poses before saying, “So, you really did bathe after all?”

“Yeah.” He let out a refreshed sigh as he approached the fire, pausing before it to hold up his bound hands and warm his palms. “The spring water felt good, too. Almost couldn’t drag myself out again.”

Brow knitting as I focused on his cuffs, I shook my head, suddenly wondering—

“How the hell did you bathe with shackles on?”

His grin turned wicked. “I’ll gladly tell you. All you have to do is—”

“Never mind.” I slapped my empty stew bowl down on the log next to me and surged to my feet, glaring at him. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” he taunted to my back as I turned away and got to work, setting up my bedroll. “Just come here and I’ll whisper the secret in your ear.”

“How about you whisper it in my ear,” Melaina offered, curling her finger in an inviting gesture.

Indigo sent her a frown. “That’s a hard pass, thanks.”

Her leer fell. “What? Why?”

“You’ve drawn blood on my throat twice now. I’m not going anywhere near you.”

“Pfft.” She pushed to her feet to gather my empty bowl. As she took both hers and mine to the cleaning bucket to wash them, she added, “You’re not still put out about that, are you, darling? That’s all in the past now.”

“It was yesterday and this morning,” he reminded her dryly. “And besides…” He glanced my way. “Quilla doesn’t like it when you flirt with me.”

Spinning around with my bedding half prepared, I glared openly, ready to strangle the jerk for making such a crazy, slanderous claim. “The f**k if I care!”

“You do.” He smirked. “The moment she made her offer, your emotions raged out with fury. You did not like her making a move on your man.”

“As if,” I cried. “You are not my—”

“Yes, I am,” he murmured, leaving the fire to retrieve his own bedroll. Strolling my way, he added, “Whether you like it or not, I’m yours. Always and forever.”

I would have set him straight right there, but I got a little distracted by the way he kept approaching with his things, so I ended up demanding, “What do you think you’re doing with that? Don’t come near me with your bedding.”

“But I have to,” he said simply. “Because I’m sleeping here.” And he dropped his bedroll onto the ground just a foot from mine with a jarring thud that made me jump.

Grinding my teeth, I seethed. “No, you are not.”

“Yeah.” He sent me a wink. “I am.”

I pointed to the other side of the camp. Where he belonged. “If you don’t move your s**t back over there right now—”

“You’ll what?” he countered with too much cheer. “Cut me? You’ve already threatened that. Never carried through. So I’m calling bullshit.”

He bent and began to set up his bedding.

I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my toe. I’d somehow lost my intimidating presence. And he was right, I wasn’t going to physically harm him. Though the idea was tempting.

So tempting.

What was worse, I couldn’t be the one to move my things. That would only show retreat and cowardice. He had to be the one to go.

Except I didn’t know how to convince him to do that.

Indigo finished his preparations and stood again, dusting his hands off on his hips as he loomed way too close for my comfort. He smelled like clean man, warm musk, and lickable—

Jesus, it just wasn’t right that he had to stand so close.

“What’re you so scared of?” he asked in a calm, curious voice that held no hint of any condescending banter that might piss me off. “You know I won’t hurt you. And I remember the rule. No touching, so—”

“The rule was for you to sleep on the other side of the—”

“I feel your anxiety, okay,” he broke in softly, his gaze drilling into mine. “And I get that this is uncomfortable for you. But I promise I won’t bother you. Not in that way.” He waved his manacled hands in a circle, motioning toward my lap area. “I can read your signs. You’re not ready for all that yet. So you’re safe. Hell, you’ll be safer with me here than on the other side of the camp.”

A droplet of disappointment pouted inside me over his claim that he wouldn’t make any advances. I kind of liked his wicked advances. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, and thus I was therefore obligated to shut them down flat. Because he could never know I secretly craved them.

To his face, though, I lifted my eyebrows and kept my arms crossed. “If you’re not lying about leaving me alone, then why does it matter where you sleep?”

The devil grinned his stupid sexy grin. “Because I like lying beside you. And my mark lets me sleep better the closer you are. I just want a good night’s rest. That’s all.”

Okay, that melted a bit of my resistance. But come on…

My mere presence soothed him?

Who could stand firm against s**t like that?

Me. That’s who, I told myself. I was better than this. I could resist his cocky, yet adorable grin, his sparkling eyes with the long lashes still damp from his bath, where he’d probably stroked himself while thinking of me. Maybe he’d even groaned my name while bringing himself to o****m.

He released a sudden breath and shook his head as if trying to clear it while he took a step back.

I flushed, hoping he hadn’t felt that surge of excess heat that had just ricocheted through me. Except I knew he had.

Damn.

“And just think,” he added, recovering immediately to flash me a smile. “It would be torture for me to remain close enough to you that I could reach out and touch you but not actually be allowed to touch you. And you like it when I’m miserable, right?”

Well…

When he put it that way, the idea of torturing him did sound appealing.

I frowned. “Just don’t talk to me.”

He grinned. Way too triumphantly. And the twinkle in his eyes told me he’d be talking to me a lot.

Fuck. What had I just done?

Plopping down on his bedroll, he lay back, crossed his legs at the ankles, and then interwove his fingers together before placing his bound hands behind his head and sighing blissfully up at the sky. “Damn, it is such a nice night, isn’t it? Ideal temperature, just the slightest hint of a breeze to keep the air from being stale, and laced with the hint of pine. Did you see that sunset, too? f*****g beautiful.”

“You’re an ass,” I mumbled, plopping heavily onto my own blankets with a petulant sniff. There went my plans of getting in an early night’s sleep.

“An ass?” He gave a low whistle. “For commenting on the weather? Wow. Oh well. Everyone’s a critic, I guess.”

I turned onto my side, facing away from him and punched at the hard saddle under my head that was seconding as my pillow. But I could still feel him back there. His warmth, his smell, his very presence was a pungent reminder that I had a mate.