The thought jolted him. Could the demon affect her now?
"Am I immortal?" she asked, rubbing her temples again, as if to ward off an ache. "Or did I make you human?"
"Immortal. I told you, I'm the dominant."
He continued to finger-comb her hair, soon becoming mesmerized by the feel of silk against his flesh. The contrast of dark tresses against the bronze of his skin. The way the strands fluttered over the elegant line of her back.
My wife is sprawled across a bed...
Desire swung through his mind, a wrecking ball to what remained of his frigid resolve. Hunger clawed at him. Between his legs, his erection throbbed.
His mind shouted, Must brand my woman. Show her--show William. She belongs to me, and only me.
Yes, yes. Puck would give her great pleasure. He would teach her to love his touch. Soon, she would crave it.
And when I must give her back to the other male?
William would thank him for preparing the way.
William will die if he dares to touch what--
A low rumble escaped Puck. When the time came, he would do what needed doing. "We will cement our bond now," he said, his tone thick, almost drugged. And I will come. Finally!
Gillian whipped around, her eyes wide with fear. "No. No sex. Not ever. I give you permission to sleep with others. As many others as you want, but never me."
An invisible knife twisted inside his gut. "We are husband and wife. Let me ease your fears."
"I know we're husband and wife, okay," she said, "but I told you I'd never experienced desire, that I never wanted to experience desire, and I meant it."
Her willingness to share him...irritated.
"Very well. It shall be as you wish."
She sobbed on, so he continued on, even if she'd stopped listening. "There are things I must do before we leave. You will stay here, and I will ensure your safety." He stepped away from her then, never looking back, and jumped from the tree.
He would take a little time, ice up, reclaiming the reins of control, and figure out what had happened to Indifference.
Afterward, he would meet his next goal. All would be well--or he would make it so.
12
What the heck is wrong with me?
The moment Puck had left, Gillian had burst into tears? Now different emotions continued to bombard her, making her feel as if she was tripping on a deluge of estrogen, adrenaline and acid. Basically, hysteria played Russian roulette with mania while sadness and happiness engaged in a game of chicken. She was up, she was down, she was round, round, round, and all while strange growls and roars sounded inside her head.
The bond had to be responsible. But how did bonds work, exactly? Puck felt nothing, so it wasn't like she'd inherited his sorrow, rage, guilt, grief and...desire. Had she? The odd prickle had returned, her nipples hardening and the apex of her thighs aching--stronger than before, and this time there was no mistaking the reason.
Some part of her hungered in a way she'd never before known, not even with William.
When Puck had stood, ready to get down and dirty, a small part of her had welcomed the idea of being with him. But of course, fear had swiftly overshadowed everything else.
If he had tried to force the issue...
But he hadn't. He'd saved her life and walked away. Now, she owed him.
He claimed he wanted to feel something--anything. As Gillian thought back over their interactions, her mind no longer clouded by sickness, she began to suspect he'd maybe, possibly...lied to her, that he really didn't want to feel. Because, anytime he'd softened the minutest bit, he'd quickly retreated behind a frigid exterior.
Why would he lie? He had no other reason to marry her. Also, as a teenage runaway, she'd gotten a crash course in deception; her lie-dar would have pinged.
But she thought she might remember him feeling regret at some point? Yes, maybe. If he'd felt it before bonding to her, though, why go through with the ceremony and risk his life? Unless he just wanted to feel more?
And, okay, maybe he wasn't to blame for her current predicament. Maybe all brand-new immortals went through this--or her freshly broken heart was unleashing years of turmoil.
Broken, because William demanded she choose between him and the man who'd saved her. But how could she betray Puck, after everything he'd done?
How could she hurt William like that? Would she ever see him again?
What kind of life could she and Puck actually have?
*
When Puck returned to the tree house, he found Gillian on the bed, exactly where he'd left her.
"Are you still crying?" he demanded as he stuffed her feet into a pair of boots he'd confiscated for her.
"I'm not crying. You're crying," she replied, petulant. Red splotches littered her face, and her eyes were swollen.
She mourned the loss of her precious William.
Puck waited for a pang of outrage. Felt nothing but a slight tightening in his chest. Good. Ice surrounded his heart in impenetrable layers.
Surely they were impenetrable.
"Let's go." He yanked her to an upright position.
"Where are we going?"
Ignoring her question, he maneuvered her outside the tree house. Then, using his daggers, he fought through the thick foliage that cluttered their path. He'd already scouted the realm, but had found only two doorways. One led to a fiery realm where certain death awaited while the other led straight back to William's tropical paradise, neither of which put Puck in the direction of Amaranthia.
They returned to the tropical paradise. Though he expected an ambush, William never appeared.
"Where are we going?" Gillian asked again. "Because I'd like to put in a request for Budapest. I have friends there."
"No."
"William mentioned you're having trouble with Torin. I could run interference and--"
"I'm not having trouble with Torin."
"Okay, great. We can--"
"No."
"Hold up." With a huff, she anchored her hands on her hips. "Let's get a few things straight before we continue on."
"Yes. Let's." He turned to meet her gaze--and got pummeled by a sudden and intense tempest of desire.
How? How did she do this to him?
"Well," she prompted, as if he were the ringleader of this conversation. She held her head high, even as a blush stole over her cheeks.
Such a sexy blush...how far did it travel?
Control! No need to be nice, he decided. He'd wooed, and he'd won. Now he could be himself.
"Our relationship isn't a democracy, but a Puckocracy. I saved your life, lass. From now on, I speak and you listen. I command, and you obey. Understand?"
She began to draw back, only to catch herself and square her shoulders. "By your logic, you must listen when I speak and obey when I command. I saved your life, too."
Oh, really? "Explain."
"In his wrath, William would have imprisoned you."
"Wrong. At worst, he would have yelled at me." The barest glint of pride compelled him to add, "Besides, I've defeated stronger opponents than William of the Dark."
She ran her tongue over her teeth, the picture of female stubbornness, and beautiful beyond imagining. "No one is stronger than William."
Chest tightening again. "What has the male done to earn your loyalty?"
"For starters, he's never lied to me, never taken advantage of me, even when I tried to force the issue," she said.
Interesting. "How did you try to force the issue?"
The blush intensified. "Never mind that. He spent time with me, making no demands, simply enjoying my company. He protected me when I wouldn't protect myself. He--"
"Enough! He's perfect. I get it." The tightening ebbed, replaced by aching; something dark and barbed razed all that so-called impenetrable ice.
Still Indifference remained quiet.
The bond to Gillian had affected the demon. There was no other explanation. But, no matter how Puck h
ad sliced and diced the situation, the answer remained at bay.
What did this mean for him? What did this mean for his wife?
"If you were bonded to William," he found himself saying, "would you be in his bed right now?"
A shudder racked her, the color draining from her cheeks. "No."
That was something, at least.
They resumed their journey and reached the cavern. The next glittery doorway loomed straight ahead.
"I'll go first. Stay directly behind me. And wife? If a fight breaks out, you will run to safety. I will find you."
"I...okay. Yes."
Puck tightened his grip on his daggers before stepping through...
Bitter winds pelted him, like knives against his bare skin. He scanned, spotting ice mountains studded with trees, a gray sky peppered with black clouds heavy with rain. Practically a metaphor for his heart.
So. William's doorway was mobile. Meaning, it opened into a new realm every time someone other than its owner passed through.
Gillian gasped, her little body instantly struck by shivers. As his blood thickened, turning to sludge in his veins, he wrapped an arm around her, offering warmth.
In the distance, an animal howled. Other animals answered in kind. Wildlife. Excellent. Puck could feed his--Gillian.
Time to stop referring to her as wife. Soon, he would let her go. Nothing would change his mind.
Her teeth chattered as she said, "Oh, my, ice hell."
As an immortal, she would survive the bleak temperature. But...urgency beleaguered him. Must get her warm.
"This way." He ushered her into a nearby thicket of trees, blocking the worst of the wind, then moved toward a pile of furs--
Well. The furs came with bodies. At some point, humans had stumbled through the doorway and died. They were perfectly preserved, and at first glance, uninjured. No bloodstains.
Puck freed the smallest coat and draped the material around Gillian's shoulders. "This should help."
Clutching the lapels tight, she stared up at him, gratitude glinting in those intoxicating eyes. "Thank you."
Will not soften. He offered a stiff nod in acknowledgment.
Between breaths, whenever the mist in front of his face evaporated, he scanned the area to find the yawning mouth of a cave, hidden by sheets of falling snow. Did predators nest within?
After gathering wood and starting a fire, he urged Gillian to sit before the flames and said, "Do not move from this spot."
"Wait. You're leaving me?"
"If I shout, you run."
"But--"
Weapon at the ready, he entered the cave, ending the conversation. A spacious entryway led to a narrow hallway with twists and turns--a hallway that exited into a large room with a bubbling hot spring. Steam curled through the air, carrying the scent of--he sniffed. Cleanliness, no hint of blood or rot.
A pile of bones littered one corner, each bearing fang and claw marks. A predatory animal had made its home here, but hadn't returned in ages. No fresh blood.
Puck marched outside but avoided nearing Gillian. If he caught a whiff of poppiberries, he might not gather the will to leave her, and he had to leave her to see to her wants and needs.
"Back with thirty-three seconds to spare," she told him with a relieved smile.
That smile...
His shaft pulsated with desire, and Indifference--there! The demon scrambled through his mind, clawing and slashing, but with far less force than usual.
Where have you been, fiend?
Of course, no answer was forthcoming, only a muted snarl.
"Stay out here," Puck told Gillian. "Do not go inside the cave without me, just in case its owner comes back." If she were cornered... If the rocky walls kept him from hearing her cry for help... "I'll catch our lunch," he ended a little too harshly.
"What? No." She lumbered upright, the cold making her clumsy, and reached for him. Just before contact, she frowned at her hand, as if the cursed thing had dared to act against her will. Dropping her arms to her side, she said, "I don't want to be alone. Please. Stay here with me."
Remain unconcerned. "I'll only be a scream away."
As she stared up at him with wide eyes--gifting him with a view of all the kindling still waiting inside her, ready to catch fire and burn--he began to understand William's dilemma. How the warrior had left her behind in an attempt to better provide for her.
"A scream away," she echoed. "Wow. That is sooo comforting. Thank you very much."
"Don't worry. If you're attacked and injured, you'll heal. You're immortal now, remember? And we're bonded, your life tied to mine. If you die, I die. Do you know what that means?"
"No," she whispered.
"That I wouldn't leave you if I thought something catastrophic would happen."
His words--meant to comfort her--only antagonized her. All piss and vinegar, she said, "Is there anything else I should know? Like, am I going to grow a penis now that we're sharing a life?"
He didn't want to admire her spirit, or enjoy how she could be both soft and forceful. No, he didn't. "The only penis you'll have to deal with is mine." And the current conversation had it agonized, razing the demon further. "I'm unsure what other ramifications we'll face."
Her cheeks pinkened, and she opened her mouth to respond.
Unwilling to hear any other arguments on the subject, he left her then, heading into the thickest part of the forest.
Her curses followed him, rousing instincts he'd never before encountered, and he almost turned around. Something inside him demanded he pamper his new wi--Gillian. Demanded he do everything in his power to make her happy every minute of every day.
Foolish! "Why aren't you more upset?" he snapped at Indifference. "Where is my newest punishment?"
Snarl, snarl.
Had the bond weakened the demon? Perhaps even subdued his ability to affect Puck? Possibly. How? He wasn't sure. Could Indifference still weaken him? Maybe.
Truth was, Puck didn't want to feel right now. For the first time since his possession, he actually craved the cold nothingness offered by the ice. No desire for Gillian. No longing to ease her fears. No problem letting her go.
He threw himself into the hunt, scouring the land for tracks. There! As he followed a secluded path, he pocketed petals of every winter orchid he came across, intending to use them in the hot spring because--just because.
Finally he reached the source of the tracks. A pack of wild...something. Some kind of oversize rabbit-pig hybrid, with wiry fur and a snout.
The moment they scented him, they erupted into a chorus of screeches and rushed him, as fast as jaguars, their long, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.
No time to prepare. Puck dodged the first wave of attack, spun and just started slashing. His daggers cut through throats and bellies, blood spraying, viscera plopping to the ground. The second wave knocked him down, but never had a chance to bite. He fought too diligently.
His injuries would become Gillian's injuries, and the thought of her cut and bleeding...
With a roar to rival those Indifference used to unleash, Puck slashed with more force. His supernatural speed prevented the creatures from ever locking on him. One by one, they succumbed to his blades.
By the time the battle ended, he was drenched in blood and panting, dead bodies piled around him. Darkness had fallen--how long had he left Gillian alone?
He selected two creatures before hurrying back to camp, following the fragrance of poppiberries. No doubt he could be blindfolded and dropped in the middle of nowhere, and still find Gillian without difficulty.
She sat before the fire, alive and well, and relief skittered through him. Relief and awareness, both antagonizing the demon. Moonlight paid her skin glorious tribute, causing her rich brown mane to glisten like silk.
"Lunch and dinner." After dropping the bounty in front of her, he said, "Clean and cook them while I bathe."
Anger contorted her exquisite features. "You were gone forever
. And oh, yeah, I'm not cleaning and cooking those."
"You aren't hungry?" No matter. She would eat. This, he would force. Physical weakness would not be permitted.
"I'm starved, but--"
He cut her off, saying, "Then clean, cook and eat. Problem solved."
"I don't want to touch a dead animal, and I certainly don't want to eat an animal. I'm a vegetarian."
In Amaranthia, females rarely naysayed their males. Though Puck wouldn't be keeping Gillian, he wouldn't tolerate disobedience, either.
"You'll do what I command," he said, his tone pure menace. "Nothing else is acceptable."
Walking away had served him well last time, so he did it again. In the cave, warm, damp air enveloped him. Water drip, drip, dripped from the walls, growing louder the deeper he traveled.
When he reached the spring, he tossed the orchid petals into the water. His new husbandly instinct demanded he go outside, gather Gillian against him and get her settled, keep her safe. Instead, he stripped down to skin and fur and stepped into the liquid. He could use a few minutes away from his tormentor.
He dunked once, twice, rinsing off the blood. Footsteps sounded behind him, followed by a soft feminine whimper, and every muscle in his body tensed.
She'd come to him.
Ignoring a new chorus from Indifference, Puck kept his back to her, unsure what he would see on her features. Disgust? Approval? What did he want to see?
Nothing!
She stomped her foot, saying, "You are my...my husband. You'll feed me fruits and vegetables. It's your duty."
Face her. Get it over with. See.
Slowly he turned. As his gaze found Gillian, the air in his lungs evaporated and his butterfly tattoo trekked to his lower back. Indignation had flushed her cheeks, and soulful eyes beseeched him--save me from my troubles.
No! There would be no saving. From now on, he would keep her at a distance. "I may not care about much of anything, lass, but I live by certain rules. I have to. Rules keep me alive despite my affliction. Keep the people around me alive."
She licked her lips, and though he commanded himself to look away--to look anywhere else--he followed the motion of her tongue, earning more protests from Indifference.
Enough! "The rule you need to memorize?" he continued, his tone harsher. "Eat three meals a day." Lest she think he would cater to her every whim, he added, "Also, you will work or you will starve." Conflicting statements. Or maybe not. Three meals a day--three meals she would work for.