None of that sounded that bad. But the tear that fell down her cheek was awful.
Without thinking I leaned down and kissed it. It was cool against my lips. Her brilliant eyes met mine.
“You know how I feel. I cannot hide it anymore. Can’t that be enough?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
I pushed away from her. Turning my back. “You want me to walk away and just let him have you?”
“He will never have me. You will.”
So I was supposed to let him take what was mine? Let him use her and then throw her away? Let her be here alone, raising a child—a child that isn’t mine—with no one?
“No,” the word ripped from my throat.
“And what of my duty? What of yours?”
“My duty?” I asked, turning.
“You’re here in hell for a reason. You would turn your back on your friends?” She pushed up off the couch and stood behind me.
Of course I would. But I wouldn’t admit it.
She took my silence as my agreeing with her. “I cannot turn my back on this island, like you cannot to your friends. We cannot be selfish.”
“I can do my ‘duty’ and still be with you.”
“I cannot. This island must remain hidden. The magic, the life of this island cannot be lost. If I were to be with you, the island would be found, the life of hell would be destroyed.”
“You want me to walk away.” It wasn’t a question.
I turned and stepped close, close enough she could feel my body heat, close enough her scent mingled with my senses and made my fingertips ache to touch. Please don’t send me away.
“Yes.”
White-hot rage burned me. I grabbed her, shook her, and raised my hand to strike her. At the last moment I stopped and shoved her away, her body hitting the couch. I grabbed up the lamp and threw it, sending it crashing into a window. Wind, fierce and howling, came through the broken glass. I looked out the window at the dark clouds gathering in the sky. I was too enraged to be in awe of the first sign of a storm.
The waves crashed violently along the shore and the wind ripped through the glass.
I turned back to Ana, who was standing in the center of the room. “Good-bye, Riley.”
I rushed back across the room, a snarl ripping from between my teeth. She held out her hands. “Don’t touch me. You’ve already touched me too much. The island is becoming unbalanced. The weather, it’s responding to me and what’s going on inside me.”
The urge to throw her on the ground and cover her body with mine was so strong my hands were shaking. I liked the fact that every time I touched her she became less pure. Because that meant she became more mine. The only thing that stopped me was the genuine fear in her eyes as she looked out into the sky.
What would happen to her if she disobeyed her duty? Would she be punished? Would she be tossed into hell? I was in hell. She would be with me, but hell wasn’t the place for her. She would die. Her spirit would break in such a bleak place. She would become a shell of the woman I loved.
And I did love her.
I had to leave.
My love was poison.
I went to the door and flung it open.
“Riley,” Ana called, her voice laced with regret. At least I hoped it was regret. She deserved some pain for this. I didn’t want to be the only one with wounds.
I looked over my shoulder, meeting her green eyes for the final time.
Neither of us said anything.
Then I turned and left.
Mere steps from the cottage I morphed and ran, racing onto the beach without looking back. When I was steps from the Devourer’s cave, I stopped and looked up. The sky was no longer darkening and the blue was becoming brilliant again. The wind was just a breeze now and the water was no longer angry. She was right. I wasn’t good enough. I made her less pure, unclean.
With that thought I stepped through the cave to walk back to where I clearly belonged.
Hell.
I climbed out of the thick, black sludge and up onto the hard floor of hell. The demons in the water must have sensed my burning anger because they all gave me a wide berth as I swam back from the Devourer’s island. I’d been hoping for a fight. I wanted to hurt something—to kill it. It had been stupid of me to fall for Ana. She was too good for me and she practically said as much.
I didn’t bother morphing into my human form—I wasn’t feeling particularly human anyway. I shook out the muck still coating my fur and turned to go find something to kill. Then I was going to rip this place apart until I found those stolen souls. Taking away power from the powerful seemed like a pretty good idea right now.
“What are you doing here?” said a voice from my right.
I turned. It was Hecate. She had a hood pulled over her head, but I knew it was her. What was she doing here? Of course I couldn’t answer and I didn’t bother to change so I could.
A witch no one had seen for weeks and she chooses this day—this moment—to show her face? She could go back to wherever the hell she came from.
She came closer, appearing to float because the thing she was wearing was so long. “Why would you be over here where there is nothing but a sea of water?”
She would call that crap water.
She probably drank it.
I showed my teeth at her and growled.
“You’re hiding something, Riley Stone.”
I turned my back and walked away. I wasn’t about to run. If she wanted a fight, I’d give her one. Besides, I wasn’t the only one hiding something. She was too, and I was going to find out where those souls were. Now.
I didn’t want to shift back but finally had to because I couldn’t drive my bike as a hound. I briefly considered just running and leaving the bike where it was, but I liked ripping through hell with it. Every time I got on it and revved the engine, it was like a slap in the face to Leviathan.
I pulled on a pair of jeans that I’d rolled up on the back of the Harley and then climbed on, taking off through the dull, sunless land. I thought about the storm that had been brewing on the island, about how Ana said it was reacting to her mood. I hoped she was feeling that tumultuous inside. I wanted her to feel some of the pain I was. I wanted her to regret ever turning me away.
As I drove closer to the castle, the air became much thicker than usual and off in the distance I saw smoke funneling up into the sky in great billows.
Leviathan.
He picked the wrong day to come back for his bike.
I gunned the engine, pushing the bike as fast as it would go. I wanted to fight. I wanted to pound someone so hard they lay there for a week.