Page 74 of Laird of Wrath

She couldn’t help but stare. It was as if he was carved from marble, pale skin stretching over taut muscles. His abdomen rippled with every movement, the muscles of his arms flexing as he leaned over her. Silvery scars marked most of his body, some smaller and some larger, some newer and some older.

He was forged from war and battle, a hero of old tales come to life.

Then her gaze traveled lower, all the way to the thick shaft that bobbed between his thighs. Once again, she swallowed past a dry throat, her eyes going wide.

Callum let out another chuckle, pleased by her reaction, as he reached down and took her hand.

“I’ll show ye,” he said, guiding her hand to his manhood, showing her how to wrap her fingers around him.

Rhea couldn’t tear her gaze off him as he moved her hand, stroking himself with her fingers. He settled down next to her and pulled her into a kiss, moaning into her mouth as she drew his pleasure out of him.

She could listen to him make those sounds forever, she thought as she stroked him, feeling the velvety skin under the pads of her fingers. He guided her through it all, tightening her fist, thrusting into it again and again in desperation, before shouting her name in climax.

Afterwards, they lay side by side, staring at the ceiling. The grand tapestry behind the headboard fluttered in the wind that blew in through the windows. Rhea looked at its pattern, at the embroidered leaves that seemed to flutter ever so gently.

A part of her was desperate to discuss what was to come, to say everything that was on her mind, but she kept her mouth firmly shut as they rested there, side by side, nothing but their arms touching as they breathed. She wanted some reassurance. She wanted him to tell her once more that he would return to her.

But what reassurance could he give her? No matter what he told her, she didn’t know if she would believe it. Her fear was muchbigger than any assurance she could get, looming over her head like a dark cloud that followed her everywhere.

The same thoughts plagued her mind every single moment—what if something happened to him? What if he was fatally wounded? What if he returned but was forever changed from what he had seen and experienced?

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. The man who had left after their wedding night was not the same man who had returned to her.

When Rhea turned to face him, he was already fast asleep. His expression had smoothed out, his lips parted as he breathed through them. She rolled onto her side to face him fully, her gaze searching for something that even she couldn’t quite identify.

And there, in the quiet of his chambers, a strange sensation gripped her—a tightness in her chest, a sting in her eyes, as if she was about to release a torrent of tears.

I love him.

It was the plain truth, something that had followed her for a while now but she had not dared name it.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind for her, what with his return and his dedication to pursuing her, and also everything that had happened between them. She had been struggling with her conflicting emotions. Only now did her love for himshine brighter than anything else, demanding to be named, demanding to beacknowledged.

She couldn’t hide from her feelings anymore. She couldn’t hide from the truth, and so the only thing left for her to do was to accept it.

She didn’t want him to go to another war because she loved him, but because if he didn’t return to her this time, she didn’t know how she could go on living. And yet because she loved him, she couldn’t ask him to stay.

What will I do without ye? Will ye come back to me?

Rolling onto her back, Rhea turned her gaze to the ceiling once more, tears stinging her eyes. Her only consolation was that they still had some time, however short. But that was as much a blessing as it was a curse.

Because she knew that the more time she spent with him, the more her love for him would blossom.

25

It’s already over.

Lughnasadhhad already arrived, and that meant Rhea had only one day left to spend with Callum. The weeks had gone by fast, too fast for her liking, to the point where she felt she hadn’t managed to get anything else out of him.

But that was also because he had been avoiding her, much to her chagrin. Whenever she searched for him, he was busy. Whenever she tried to find him, he was nowhere to be found.

It had been the same since the night they had spent together, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had realized that she had feelings for him and if that had pushed him away.

But she couldn’t deny the love she felt for him. How could she ignore it? How could she hide her feelings when all she wanted was for him to acknowledge them, to return them even? Every time they passed by each other and he all but ran off, tryingto avoid her, another piece of her heart shattered, never to be recovered again.

Perhaps it is better this way.

She had been the one to fear that the more time they spent together, the more she would grow attached to him. Now that they were apart, she carried an ache in her chest every single day, from the moment she woke to the moment she fell asleep, but at least her love wasn’t growing.