Four-Letter Words Evans, Gabrielle (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

“How can you say that? How can you even think that? It’s too dangerous, and you can’t do this on your own.”

Thane smirked. “It seems to have worked to my favor so far.”

“This isn’t like those other times, Thane. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

The witch lifted one shoulder in a shrug as though Zasha’s concerns were of little importance to him. “Well, if you’re not interested, I can always find someone else. I’m sure Daniel would be more than willing to take your place.”

He didn’t know what the conversation had been about or who the hell Daniel was. From Thane’s tone, the mention of this mystery man had been deliberately goading, though. Then the next thing Zasha knew, he had a mouth full of salty skin.

Closing his eyes and groaning in shame, he extracted his fangs from his lover’s flesh and turned his head away, unable to look Thane in the eyes. He had no idea what had just happened. His head was still spinning with all the conflicting reality stuff, but he was very aware that he’d just attacked the one person he was supposed to protect and treasure above all else.

“Zasha, baby, look at me.”

Thane didn’t sound angry, and it would be childish to refuse him. With a great deal of reluctance, Zasha opened his eyes and looked down at his mate. He deserved anything Thane wanted to throw at him, and he’d accept the consequences of having been a psychotic douchebag.

“I’m sorry.” It was grossly inadequate, but there was nothing more he could say. The crimson that trickled down Thane’s neck turned his stomach, reminding him that he had no concept of how long he’d fed or how much blood he’d taken. “Are you okay? Do you feel lightheaded or weak? What do you need?”

“I’m fine, lieveling. I’m more worried about you.”

There was a tint of red on Thane’s lip that drew his gaze. At first, he was terrified that he’d caused the injury, and the bitterness of self-disgust rose up in his throat like bile. “Oh, gods.” Reaching out to touch Thane’s lip, Zasha paused and changed directions, lifting his hand to his own face. A tiny cut in the pad of his thumb was already beginning to heal, but the smear of blood over the skin was what frightened him most. “What did I do?”

“Calm down. Take a deep breath,” Thane encouraged. “Tell me what happened.”

“What did I do?” Zasha repeated the question as he hovered on the edge of panic. “Tell me. Did I…” He couldn’t even get the words out of his mouth. There was no way he claimed Thane without knowing it, especially not without talking to his partner about it first. “Just tell me. Please.”

Thane sighed and thumped the back of his head against the floor several times. “Maybe we should get dressed first.”

Nudity was the least of Zasha’s concerns. “Stop deflecting. Did I claim you?”

It was a pointless question because he already knew the answer. He could feel the connection between them cementing, binding their hearts, minds, and souls in an unbreakable, eternal bond. Thane’s heartbeat was his own—not literally, but it was the only way Zasha could describe the feeling.

Every hurt, every ounce of suffering Thane had ever known now belonged to Zasha as well, and he felt the anguish as though he’d experienced all of those events firsthand. It wasn’t just the pain, though. He felt all of Thane’s emotions like they were his own. The strongest of these emotions simultaneously provoked immeasurable elation and unbearable sadness in Zasha’s heart.

“I know you can feel it,” Thane whispered. There was a suspicious shine to his eyes as moisture gathered in the corners. “It’s written all over your face, but you have to let go of the guilt.”

“How can you…you…”

“How can I love you?” The smile the stretched Thane’s lips was so heartbreakingly tender Zasha felt tears sting his own eyes. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he enfolded Zasha in his arms and cuddled him close. “I’ve always loved you, Zasha. You make it easier than breathing.” Fingers stroked down his spine and soft lips pressed to his temple. “Tell me what happened.”

Despite his emotional turmoil, Zasha’s body responded with inappropriate enthusiasm. His pulse accelerated, his muscles quivered, and his cock hardened to press against Thane’s stomach. The unintended reaction only fueled his guilt. He had no right to want the things he wanted, not after what he’d done.

He didn’t have an answer to Thane’s question, but he had a lot of inquiries of his own. His lover sounded steady and confident, a rock for Zasha to cling to until he felt more stable. “Who’s Daniel?” he blurted.

“Daniel?”

“Yes. You said Daniel would be happy to take my place.” Fuck, nothing made sense, and he couldn’t be sure if it was something Thane had actually said, or if it was just a hallucination from his fevered mind. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

Neither of them spoke as they sat there on the floor, slowing rocking from side to side while Thane attempted to soothe him. In part, it was working. Zasha sagged against his lover, soaking up his warmth and inner strength. It was unusual for him to be so outwardly needy, but the things he’d seen—real or not—went beyond his ability to comprehend.

“Do you trust me?” Thane asked minutes later, and his whispered voice sounded strangely loud after the extended silence.

“Yes.”

Two days ago, Zasha would have given it much more thought before responding to such an important question. As the mating bond grew stronger with each passing second, however, he had no reason to withhold his trust. He felt everything Thane felt. He couldn’t read his mate’s thoughts, but he could easily decipher the witch’s emotions and intentions.

“Good.” With a breathtaking smile, Thane rose from the floor without releasing his hold on Zasha’s waist, and carried him back to the mattress. “Then try to stop thinking so hard and let me take care of you. Hopefully, everything will