GRAY
Willow retreated down the stairs in a hurry, fleeing the scene of her indiscretion. It shouldn’t have bothered me that she’d allowed
him to touch her for such a limited time, not when the end result had been exactly what I wanted.
She hadn’t been able to stomach his kiss, knowing that I was the only one who should be placing their lips on her.
I couldn’t even find it in me to be angry with her, because I understood her better than anyone. She wanted to find something for herself, wanted to fight the destiny that had determined her life long before she’d ever been born. She didn’t have enough experience to know that it was futile, that there was no fighting the kind of connection we shared.
I strode out from around the corner where I’d watched the end of their exchange, having gone in search of my wandering wife to check on her. I’d found her having a quiet discussion with Iban, and his body posture and head hanging over hers had left very little to the imagination.
The furious part of me had wanted to intercede immediately, but the other part had needed to see it. I needed to know how Willow behaved when she thought I wasn’t watching her, to make sure that I wasn’t imagining the warming she’d shown toward me in the last two days.
I slipped my hands into my pockets as Iban spun to look at me, his nostrils flaring as he realized I’d seen his humiliation. “I take it that didn’t go as planned?” I asked. He ground his teeth together, undoubtedly fighting his urge to punch me in the face. It wouldn’t end well for the human male; he had to know when he was outmatched.
“You’re a fucking bastard for doing this to her,” he said, directing his glare to Willow as she hurried down the spiral staircase, oblivious to the altercation that took place above her.
“For doing what to her, exactly? Being there for her when she cries?” I asked, not making any move to touch him. Just letting his own shame hang him out to dry. Nothing I could do to him would hurt as much as what Willow had already accomplished, choosing a bastard like me over the man who would have her believe he was morally superior. “Or was it the part where she screams my name every night, all the while she can’t even tolerate a pathetic kiss from you?”
“That right there is why you don’t deserve her,” he spat, his expression disgusted. “I would never speak about her that way.”
I leaned forward, lowering myself a little closer to his level. Iban wasn’t short, but he also was shorter than me in his human form, utterly frail and weak. “That’s cute, but it has far more to do with you not having the ability to please her than it does any moral integrity.”
“I guess we’ll find out when she finally kicks you aside,” he said. I canted my head, staring down at him as I stood straight.
I couldn’t help the soft laughter that rumbled in my chest, my amusement at his oblivious response rising. “What exactly do you think happened here?”
“You saw what happened. Do you need me to spell it out for you?” he asked, crossing his arms and standing taller. “She let me kiss her, and then she ran away from me because of what that made her feel. It’s only a matter of time before she wants more than you can give her,” he said.
If I hadn’t already had a terrible opinion of him, the fact that he showed no concern for what I might do to Willow in retribution if I actually believed his words solidified it.
I nodded my agreement because, in theory, he was right. With the way he saw me, I was sure he thought Willow would someday want a real life— a family of her own and a place where she could bring Ash and raise him safely.
Iban had no way of knowing that there was nothing I wouldn’t give Willow, including a legacy that would span across history.
“Maybe you’re right, though you’re an idiot if you think she’ll ever turn to you,” I said, turning my back on him and going to follow after my witchling.
She’d nearly reached the bottom of the stairs as I took my first step down from the library floor. I knew exactly where she would go after something like this. She wouldn’t feel comfortable turning to me when she thought she’d wronged me, so she’d turn to the only other thing she could rely on.
Her gardens.
I’d fuck her in them to remind her exactly where she belonged, trapped between me and the earth.
“You’re going to get her fucking killed if you don’t let her go,” Iban said, his words freezing me in place. I wasn’t an idiot, and I didn’t doubt that the Coven still hoped to remove me from the situation entirely, except Willow should have earned their loyalty with the truth she’d given them the night before.
“What did you just say to me?” I asked, taking that single step up to the library floor.
“You care about her, on whatever fucking level you’re capable of. I’ve seen it,” Iban said, swallowing as he stared at me.
I pursed my lips, staring down over the railing in thought. “She’s my wife,” I said, not answering his unasked question. He didn’t need to know the lengths I would go to keep her safe, for they didn’t matter.
The one thing I’d never do was let her go.
“I care about Willow, and even I know using her is the best way to hurt you. One day, you’re going to piss someone off enough that they use her, and it will be all your fault when they kill her to make you bleed,” Iban said, not understanding just how true his words were.
Willow and I were connected in more ways than one.
“How many others suspect I love her?” I asked, watching as his disgust and confusion flittered over his face in equal measure.
“Love?” he scoffed, the smile transforming his face. “You aren’t capable of love. I’m the only one who knows she’s more than a trophy to you.”
I nodded, clapping my hand down on Iban’s shoulder. He flinched, but I held him firm as I smiled at him. The arrogance fled his face, realizing he’d walked into some kind of trap.
“Good,” I said simply, taking a moment to revel in the fear on his face. It was entirely too short-lived.
With a single, firm shove, I pushed Iban over the railing. And then I watched him fall.
