The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(82)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Gwen! Stay with me, darling. Okay? Just stay with me.”

William must have hit another body because Gwen bounced back and forth again. Or maybe Sabin was shaking her. There were two white-hot bands wrapped around her forearms.

“Stay with me! That’s an order.”

She’d just saved his life, and he thought to order her around? “Go to…hell…” she managed, then darkness claimed her and she knew nothing more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SABIN PRESSED HIS WRIST into Gwen’s mouth, her teeth sinking deep into his vein. The feel of those soft lips…that hot suction…He was so hard his c**k could be considered a dangerous weapon. This was Gwen’s second feeding, and she was healing nicely. She had flat-out refused to take his neck, even though she would have received a better flow of blood and thereby healed much faster. Worse, she refused to talk to him.

So he talked for both of them. He told her the kids she’d captured were still contained, but comfortable and safe. He told her that her sisters had escaped the dungeon about an hour ago and had once again taken up residence in the chamber beside his. Despite the anger they had to feel, they’d been strangely quiet.So had Doubt, for that matter.

He’d known the demon feared the Harpies. He’d known the little shit retreated deep inside his mind every time Gwen became riled. But now the fiend remained silent even if she wasn’t. Striking distance was all that was required now. Almost seemed as if Doubt, well, doubted itself and its ability to take her in a battle of wills. Poetic justice, if you asked Sabin.

The demon turned on Sabin every time he ventured away from Gwen, of course, and still sought other victims constantly. But not Gwen, not any longer, and it never dared say anything about Gwen. After the way she’d ripped through those Hunters…The demon had also stopped trying to convince Sabin that he couldn’t have her, too afraid to piss Gwen off.

A little anger from her wouldn’t have been a bad thing, though. Anything was preferable to the silent treatment.

Sabin sighed. So badly he wanted to hop a plane and search for the missing warriors. But first, he had to recover from yesterday’s battle. He and the others were no good to anyone right now. What’s more, he knew he couldn’t divide their forces more than they already were. Hunters were still in Buda, and those Hunters had to be dealt with before the fortress fell or the women were injured.

This morning Torin had pegged one of the new captured with a tracking dye and “accidentally” let him escape, following his every move from his computer and waiting for the bastard to lead the warriors to their hiding place.

Waiting was difficult, though. He’d tried to talk the Harpies into going to Chicago, had promised them a fortune, but they’d shut their door in his face. He knew they didn’t want money. They wanted him to send Gwen packing. That, however, he couldn’t do.

He loved her. More than before, even.

More than his war, more than his hatred for the Hunters, he loved her. She was Galen’s daughter—so what. Sabin carried the demon of Doubt inside him, so like he really had room to judge. Gwen wouldn’t aid her father. She wouldn’t. Sabin knew that soul-deep. And yeah, he also knew that Gwen would be giving up a chance at a relationship with her dad to be with him, which was why he needed to prove to Gwen that he was now her family.

She was number one in his life. He shouldn’t have locked her away. He should have trusted her, should have allowed her to fight. Hell, he would have lost without her—and he would rather lose than be without her ever again.

The pressure of her mouth eased, and then she was pulling away from him. He was seated on a recliner he’d dragged to his bedroom—more than taking from his neck, Gwen had refused to drink from him on the bed. She was seated across from him in the other recliner he’d confiscated because she’d also refused to sit on his lap.

Her lips were bright red and puffy, as though she’d been kissed. “Thanks,” she muttered.

Thanks—her first word since waking from her injuries this morning. He closed his eyes, smiling as her beautiful voice drifted through his head. “My pleasure.”

“I can tell,” she said dryly.

Slowly his eyelids cracked open. She hadn’t flounced to the bed as she had earlier but remained in the chair, her back ramrod straight, peering just over his shoulder, determination pulsing off her. Dread coursed through him. What, exactly, was she determined to do? Leave him still?

“How are Aeron and Paris?” she asked.

Needed to work up to it, did she? “Healing like the rest of us. Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to William. I’d pushed myself too far and wouldn’t have been able—”

“Because of you,” he interjected. “You did more, fought harder, than anyone I’ve ever seen. And you had no reason to do it and every reason not to. Yet still you saved us all. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“I don’t want your thanks,” she said, cheeks heating. Not in embarrassment, nor in desire. But…anger? Why would she be angry at his gratitude? She released a shuddering breath, which seemed to calm her. “I’m healed, my strength almost completely returned.”

“Yes.”

“Which means…I’m leaving.” Her voice cracked there at the end.

And there it was. He’d suspected that was coming, but was still devastated by the words. You can’t leave, he wanted to shout. You’re mine. Now and always. But he, more than anyone, knew the consequences of trying to control such a fierce soldier. “Why?” was all he managed to get out.

Jerkily she hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You know why.”

“Spell it out for me.”

Finally her eyes slid to him. Fire sizzled in their depths. “You want to hear it? Fine. You used my weakness against me, my secrets. You hurt my sisters, forced me to hurt them and lock them away to save you. You didn’t trust me and you almost died for it.” She jumped to her feet, hands fisted. “You almost died!”

Okay, the thought of his death upset her most. She’d mentioned it twice. Hope flared inside him, and Sabin was out of his chair and tossing her on the bed before she had time to blink. As she bounced from the impact, he pinned her with his weight.

Rather than struggle against him, she glared up at him. “I could snap your neck.”

“I know.” Actually, this position left her vulnerable. Left her wings immobile, which drained her strength. Her weakness, the one he’d used against her before. There’d be no more of that. He flipped to his back, placing her atop him. “I thought I was doing it for your own good. I didn’t want you fighting. Didn’t want you hurt. Didn’t want you pitted against your own father.”