Lover Reborn (Black Dagger Brotherhood 10) - Page 41

Tohrment jutted himself forward on his hips. "Why did you come here?"

"I work as a laundress - "

"Not the training center - this goddamn compound. "

"I wanted to see my daughter - "

"Then why haven't you spent any time with her?"

"She is newly mated! I have tried to make myself available - "

"Yeah, I know. Just not to her. "

The disrespect in that deep voice made her want to shrink away, but his unfairness gave her a backbone. "I had no way of knowing that you were going to enter herein. I thought all were gone for the night - "

Tohrment closed the distance between them. "I'm going to say this only once. There's nothing here for you. The mated males in this house are bound to their shellans, Qhuinn's not interested, and neither am I. If you've come looking for a hellren or a lover, you're out of luck - "

"I want no male!" Her shouting shut him up, but that wasn't nearly enough. "I shall say this only once - I would kill myself afore I ever accept another male into my body. I know why you hate me, and I respect your reasons, but I do not want you or any other of your persuasion. Ever. "

"Then how about you start by keeping your goddamn clothes on. "

She would have slapped him if she could have reached that high. Her palm even started to tingle.

But she did not jump up to wipe the terrible expression off his face with force. Lifting her chin, she said with as much dignity as she could, "In the event you have forgotten what the last male did to me, I can assure you I have not. Whether you choose to believe me or prefer a delusion, that is not my doing - or my concern. "

As she limped past him, she wished for once that her leg was what it had been before: Pride was far better served by an even gait.

Just as she got to the anteroom, she looked back at him. He had not turned about, so she addressed his shoulders. . . and the name of his shellan, which was carved in his very skin. "I shall never go near that water again. Clothed or unclothed. "

As she wobbled to the door, she was shaking from head to foot, and it wasn't until she felt the cold slap of the air out in the corridor that she realized she had left the rolling trash bin, the sweeper, and her sheath behind.

She was not going back for them, that was for certain.

In the laundry room, she closed herself in and leaned against the wall by the doors.

Abruptly, she felt like she was suffocating, and ripped the hood from her head. Indeed, her body was hot, and not because of the heavy layer she wore. An internal burn had taken root and used her gut for kindling, the heated smoke from that fire filling her lungs, crowding out the oxygen.

It was impossible to reconcile the male she had known in the Old Country with the one she saw now. The former had been awkward, but never, ever disrespectful, a kind, gentle soul who somehow excelled at his brutal endeavors in the war - whilst retaining his compassion.

This current iteration was but a bitter shell.

And to think she'd assumed preparing that dress would be of any benefit?

She'd have better luck moving the mansion with her mind.

In the wake of No'One's pissed-off departure, Tohr decided that short of the fact John Matthew hadn't managed to cut himself on the hand and foot thus far tonight, it looked like Tohr and the kid had a lot in common: Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume - which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile.

Christ, what had come out of his mouth?

In the event you have forgotten what the last male did to me, I can assure you I have not.

With a groan, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why in the world would he think, for even a second, that female would have any sexual interest in a male?

"Because you assumed she was attracted to you and it freaked you out. "

Tohr closed his eyes. "Not now, Lassiter. "

Naturally, the fallen angel paid no attention to the verbal POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS tape. The blond-and-black idiot walked over and sat down on one of the benches, putting his elbows on the knees of his leathers, his odd white eyes steady and grave.

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy
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