GRAY
I took Willow into the bathroom, stripping her out of her clothes. She didn’t move as I tended to her, staring at the wall as if it might hold
the answers to her problems. She’d long since stopped crying as I gave Leviathan instructions on how to deal with the Coven members flooding into the Tribunal room, taking her to the privacy of our rooms so that she could break in peace. Moisture gathered at the bottom of her eyes, but she never let those tears fall as I tore her shirt up the middle and stripped it off her.
My fingers went to the pink, new skin on her abdomen just above her belly button. Trembling as I touched the wound, I watched her flinch back from the touch. Her eyes went wild, her body physically recoiling as she snapped out of her trance.
She was in shock, her body working to protect her mind from what she’d experienced. “It’s just me, Witchling,” I said, raising my hands in front of her. I waited for her eyes to settle on mine, for her subtle nod as recognition flared in her stare.
“It’s my fault,” she mumbled as I hurried to strip off her pants, pulling them down her legs. Her skin was far too cold to the touch, like ice, compared to the comforting warmth she usually offered. “If I hadn’t spelled that dagger…”
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, hating how she flinched back from the violence in my tone. “You do not need to carry the weight of the world every time someone fucks you over. Sometimes, people just do shitty things. He tried to sacrifice you and everyone he knew. It is his fault.”
Willow nodded, stepping into the shower when I gestured for her to come in. I watched through the open door as she stood beneath the cascade, letting the water flow onto her face. Her eyes closed, her lungs heaving at the sudden warmth. She turned, tipping her head back to allow the showerhead to rinse her hair, her body slick and wet even before she wiped the drops from her eyes.
She paused, looking at me suddenly where I stood. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice painfully soft. “Aren’t you coming in?”
I paused, considering her state and weighing my choices. I could be honest with her, communicate my needs, and give her the choice or simply allow her to grieve in peace. “I can’t,” I said, thinking only of her.
“But you’re covered in blood,” she said, glancing down at my own blood-stained clothing.
“I’ll shower when you’re done,” I said.
“Gray,” she argued, her brow furrowing. Her bottom lip trembled with a flash of vulnerability, her arms wrapping around herself.
I strode forward, stopping only when I lingered just outside the shower door. “I almost lost you,” I said, the confession pulling from my deepest parts. I hadn’t wanted to admit how close Willow was to death when she finally managed to tear that dagger from her stomach, but I’d felt the call of the afterlife coming from her.
I’d seen the reaper waiting in the shadows.
“You didn’t,” she said, the gentleness of her voice striking me in the heart. She’d nearly died, and still, she worried about how it affected me.
“But I almost did, and if I come in there with you, all I’m going to want is to feel you in my arms. To remind myself that you’re still here, because if you weren’t…” I trailed off. Even knowing I’d follow her to Hell, I understood the Willow I loved would be gone.
She’d never be the same after her death. Never be the same while living through her first day in Hell.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t tell her that, considering that would only disclose to her everything Margot was currently experiencing.
“What makes you think I don’t want you to remind me that I’m still alive?” Willow asked, the gentleness of those words conflicting with the heat of her stare.
“You’re grieving,” I said, shaking my head in denial. I wouldn’t take advantage of her.
Not like this.
The moisture in her eyes finally gave way, her face twisting. It left me with no choice except to surge forward into the shower, gathering her in my arms. The water soaked my clothes, making them cling to my skin as Willow wrapped her arms around my neck. She yanked me down to her height, capturing my mouth with her own.
It was a gentle demand; her need for touch communicated in the frantic grip of her fingers at my nape.
I stripped my shirt off, tossing it to the bathroom floor behind me. The squelching noise didn’t force me to take my lips away from my wife, refusing to sever our connection as I unbuckled my belt and shoved my pants down my thighs.
I separated from her only long enough to peel the wet fabric from my calves, kicking them and my boxer briefs to the corner of the shower. Willow lifted one of her legs in tune with me as I grasped behind her thigh, using that grip to lift her into my arms and guide her to the opposite corner. She braced a single foot on the ledge meant for shaving, offering support as she guided a single hand between our bodies.
There was no preamble or foreplay as she guided my cock to her entrance, shifting her hand out of the way so that I could push inside her. Her forehead rested against mine, her breathing turning ragged as I stretched her open for me.
Willow clung to me as if her life depended on it, as if her very being needed the reminder that I was real.
Her breath tangled with mine, and I knew I would never take a single one of those breaths for granted. Her heart pumped against my chest, her pulse thumping in tune with my own. I felt every beat of that heart within me, striking deep into the Source with the pull of destiny.
“I love you,” Willow murmured, her words spoken tenderly against my lips. She kissed me as I thrusted within her, her body opening for me to make love to the woman I’d almost lost.
“Witchling,” I moaned, the magic of the reds coating my skin. Willow cupped my face in her hands, her eyes flashing with the power of the Source as she stared down at me.
“I choose you, every day,” she said. Those words were all the reassurance of everything I’d ever wanted to hear.
Everything I needed to be at peace.
I devoured her mouth with mine, angling my head to kiss her long and deep. I moved within her with slow, languid strokes, bringing her to pleasure and giving her the reminder we both sought when we finally climaxed as one.
We were here. We were together. We were home.
