Chapter 90

Agnes

Elijah’s question caught me off guard. Honestly, I hadn’t even been expecting to make it this far, and now that I was here, I was utterly mortified and unsure of what to say. Here I was, standing in a lacy black nightgown in front of him, under the guise of bringing him tea.

Of course I wasn’t actually just here to give him the tea. But I feared now that if I told him the truth, I’d made a complete fool of myself.

My first instinct was to try to pull away, my face burning with embarrassment, but Elijah’s grip just tightened around my wrist and held me fast. Before I could say anything, he tugged me back, and I stumbled, my balance failing me.

I fell onto his lap before I could stop myself.

My hands flew to his shoulders, gripping them tightly for support, and I could feel the heat of him through the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t set me upright. In fact, he just sat there, staring at me.

“Elijah—”

Suddenly, his hands moved to my waist, his fingers brushing against all the most sensitive little spots that never failed to make me shiver. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp, but it was no use. I could feel myself melting under his touch, my resolve crumbling like a sandcastle in the tide.

“Why are you really here, Agnes?” he asked again, his voice softer this time, almost tender.

I hesitated, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it through my ribcage. Part of me wanted to shove him away and run, pretend this never happened. But a small voice in the back of my head told me to be honest.

“I… I’m tired of pretending,” I admitted, my voice hardly more than a whisper. “I’m tired of dancing around each other, acting like we don’t want this. Like we don’t want… each other.”

Elijah was silent for a moment, his hands stilling on my waist. I wondered if I had struck a nerve, if he might send me away without another word. And honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed him. This was bold of me, perhaps too bold, and it was utterly stupid. He had a mate. No matter how much I wanted him, no matter how many times we kissed in the hallway and almost succumbed to our desires, nothing could change that.

But then he spoke, and I found myself taken aback by his confession.

“I do want you,” he finally said, his eyes flicking over me one last time. “More than you know. But I can’t promise you a real relationship, Agnes. Not the type of relationship you deserve. Not with Olivia’s mark on me.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “If she found out about this, about us… she could use the bond against me. Against us. Against Thea.”

I stiffened, my fingers tightening on his shoulders. He was right, of course; if Olivia found out that there was anything between us, then she would use the bond to her advantage. Right now I had a feeling she was just biding her time, waiting for Elijah to return to her. But if she thought she was at risk of losing him for good, she might take more drastic measures.

Still, I wasn’t expecting him to say that. To be so… vulnerable.

“She doesn’t have to know,” I found myself saying. “This is between us, Elijah. No one else.”

He looked up at me then, and his eyes searched mine for something—doubt, maybe, or fear. But all he found was the same longing that had been burning in me for months.

Without another word, he lifted me and set me on the desk, pushing papers and pens out of the way with a sweep of his arm. His hands returned to my waist, his touch firm and possessive, and I felt a thrill run through me at the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at this moment.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he murmured, dipping down to that his lips grazed against my neck.

I shivered at the sensation of his mouth on me, my hands tangling in his hair as he kissed a burning hot path down my throat. “Tell me,” I whispered, my voice trembling ever so slightly.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own dark and stormy with desire. “I heard you,” he said. “That night in the bathtub. You whispered my name, and it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

My face burned at the reminder, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t; I was too enraptured by his intense gaze. “So… you did hear that,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I did. And I almost went to you. Maybe I should have.”

Our lips found each other then and I melted into him, my body responding to his touch like it had been waiting for this moment for as long as I could remember. His hands roamed over me, exploring every curve, every sensitive inch of my body, and I gasped into his mouth, my fingers clutching at his shoulders. He hooked my leg with his own, pushing my thighs apart to feel what was underneath the nightgown.

Which was nothing.

I was fully nude under the nightgown, and his hands slowed on my hips when he seemed to realize that there were no panties to push aside. A low growl rumbled through his chest and into my mouth then, and I arched my back, invisible threads tugging my knees further apart. He bucked his hips against me, every movement slow, deliberate…

Delicious.

But then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Like a rug being pulled out from under me.

Elijah pulled back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. His hand went to his neck, to the mark that bound him to Olivia, and I felt a chill run through me as I realized what was happening.

The mark was glowing.

“Elijah—”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I can’t, Agnes. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “You don’t want me,” I said, my voice breaking as I sat up. “You want her. Your mate.”

“It’s not that simple—”

But I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I pushed off the desk, my legs shaky beneath me, and bolted for the door. Elijah called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. If I turned to look at him, I feared I might cry right then and there, and I couldn’t bring myself to show that kind of vulnerability right now.

So instead I ran down the hall, my vision blurred with tears, and didn’t stop until I was back in my room with the door slammed shut behind me. Once I was alone I sank to the floor, my back pressed up against the cold wood of the door.

Only then did I finally let the tears fall.

I had been a fool to think this could ever work. A fool to think that he could ever truly want me, when his wolf—and likely his heart still, although he never seemed to want to admit it—belonged to Olivia.

And now, I had completely embarrassed myself. I was mortified.

How could I have been so stupid?