He couldn’t stop himself from cupping the back of her neck, lifting her head and lowering his. “I’m sorry,” he said, and kissed her. He had to make her understand. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed her again. She stiffened and bit at him, but he never ceased his apologies. He had to win her forgiveness. “I’ve never been so sorry in my life.”

“Enough.”

Another kiss. “Please,” he said, willing to beg.

“No.” Scowling, she pushed at him. “Stop that. Right now.”

He straightened but didn’t leave her side.

“That’s not happening. That part of our relationship is over.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as if she’d encountered something foul.

Words could be weapons, as powerful as actions, and hers were a direct hit. I earned that and more.

“I don’t want to be here,” she said, and tried to sit up.

“Too bad.” Gentle, gentle. “You’re here, and I’d like you to stay.”

“No way. I’m leaving. But I’m not leaving with the Phoenix, and if you try and make me I’ll scream until your head explodes.”

“You’re staying,” he said. “And the Phoenix are already gone.” He held her down with pressure on her shoulders, peering at her intently. “Close your eyes.”

“No, I—”

“Do it, Elin. Please. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She huffed and puffed at him, only to finish with, “Why do I need to close my eyes?”

“I don’t want you to see....” The blood. “Just do it. Please.”

Comprehension dawned, and her shudder rattled the bed. She closed her eyes.

“Don’t open them until you have permission.”

Her lips pursed. “I’m not one of your sex-slave girls in chains, nor am I your employee. If you missed the memo, I quit after I was thrown out. So, you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. And FYI, I’m only doing this because you got me away from those...those...creatures.”

“Demons,” he said. “They were demons, and I’m proud of you for fighting them to the best of your ability.”

“Well, you can take your pride and shove it.” She laughed bitterly, but the laugh quickly turned into a sob. When she calmed, she sighed, and it was clear she was racing from one emotional extreme to the other. “Even a dog fights when it’s cornered.”

“No. Some run. But you aren’t a dog. You aren’t an animal. You’re...precious.”

At first, she gave no reaction. Then she slapped him. Hard. “How dare you say that to me!”

“Why?” He hated the sting. Hated what had driven her to such violence. “It’s true.”

“It’s not! I’m not precious to you. I’m disposable. I’m tainted.”

“No.” What a fool he was. He’d once relished pain, and considered whips and chains the height of exquisite punishment. But this...this was pain. And the blunt instrument delivering it was regret. He’d lost a prize worth more than gold. He’d lost Elin’s trust. “You’re precious,” he insisted.

“Well, I think you suck,” she huffed, “and kind words aren’t going to change my opinion.”

“You’re right. No, you don’t need to accuse me of lying. I have never lied to you, and I won’t start now.” His voice was soft, as if he hoped to soothe a frightened kitten from a tree. “I do suck. What happened shows my worthlessness, not yours.”

Silent, she looked away from him.

He tried to ignore his hurt. Surely I’m bleeding inside. He stalked into the bathroom to wet a rag with warm water. He cleaned the blood from her skin. Her expression softened, he noticed, and he took heart. He was also pleased to note the worst of her injuries had already knitted together. The only lasting wounds she’d have to deal with were the ones left in her mind. Those, however, he couldn’t heal for her.

She cleared her throat, and when she next spoke, the anger was gone. “Why did the demons come after me? I mean, they mentioned some kind of prince, but—”

“Prince?” The fiend had clearly made his first move.

The fiend would pay.

“Yes. And even though, according to you, I’m some kind of moneygrubbing gold digger, I actually have no desire to be a princess.”

The tidal wave of guilt was inescapable. “You aren’t a gold digger. And the demons struck at you merely to strike at me,” he said. He draped one of his robes over her body, knowing it would clean her clothing. “You may look now.”

Her lashes fluttered open. Looking anywhere but at him, she said, “Nothing’s changed. I’m still the dreaded enemy. So why did you help me?”

“You are not my enemy. I reacted poorly to your origins—”

“Poorly? Ha!” she interjected. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And I will never be able to articulate how sorry I am. It was wrong of me to blame you for the sins of another woman.”

She opened her mouth, closed it. Her gaze landed on the robe covering her, and she sighed. She eased to a sitting position, her head bowed, and her knees drawn up.

A position of shame.

One he knew well. One he’d vowed never to be in again, and yet, he’d driven another person to it.

He was the one who should be ashamed. “I am so sorry, kulta.”

“Fine. Apology accepted. You’re forgiven. And you’re not worthless,” she added grudgingly. “I can be reasonable and let go of resentment.”

She wanted to mean those words. He could tell. But she wasn’t quite there yet. “Are you cold? Hungry? Is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?”

Eyes narrowed with suspicion, she nodded. “My bag of clothing and jewels, if you can find it. They’re mine. I earned them. Although, someone’s probably picked it up by now. Dang it. Oh,” she added, clearly speaking as thoughts came to her, “before I go back, I’ll need a new ID.”

Go back? “I told you. I want you to stay here, at the club. Where we can be...friends. I need help with the rest of my weeds.”

“No, absolutely not,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I’ve realized I don’t like being dependent on you. Because, let’s face it, Thane. At any moment you could change your mind about blaming me, and then where would I be? Staked to the courtyard?”