"All right. Enough," William said.
"I'm sorry." Hurting him wasn't her intention. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. We enter the maze, face monsters and puzzles and whatever else Sin has cooked up."
"And we officially begin your divorce proceedings."
She almost protested. Almost.
I won't keep you, lass.
"Yes," she said, her tone hollow. "We do."
*
Puck stalked the camp's perimeter, the snippet of conversation he'd overhead between Gillian and William ringing in his ears, drowning out Indifference. Life is a revelation to him. I'm a revelation. He lights up when he experiences new things with me. Though he is possessed by Indifference, he cares for his people. He wants the best for them.
Then she'd agreed about beginning divorce proceedings.
I pine for her, and she secretly wants to be rid of me? Despite the things she likes about me.
Or she tries to protect herself, as I have?
Whatever her reason, she'd refused to answer his question about her feelings, which was an answer in itself. While they were together, she would use him for pleasure, nothing more.
As he stalked around the pond, Puck hoped against hope some predator would spring from the shadows and attack. A fight to the death might improve his mood.
Strange noises seeped from the maze--howls, moans, groans, screeches and screams. Each served as a warning: stay out, or die. Evil created a dark curtain over the maze's entrance, allowing only the barest glimpse into what appeared to be a tropical forest. Evil born from Sin, considering his younger brother had conjured every tree and trap.
Had Sin known Puck would come for him at some point, despite the demon? Probably. Sin was many things, but foolish wasn't one of them.
Tomorrow morning, nothing would stop Puck from entering the maze. The sooner he defeated Sin, the sooner he would be rid of William...and Gillian. Puck needed to be rid of her. Before he did something reckless, like abandon his people and realm for her, a woman who would abandon him when all was said and done.
Damn her! How had she put him in this state with a single conversation? And why would she choose Puck over William after the divorce, anyway? Why give up affection, fun and familiarity?
Why did Puck even want to keep her, despite the obstacles? The woman twisted him up inside and out, and set him on edge.
She also turned him on, leaving him fevered. Fever meant sickness. Sickness meant he needed a cure.
He slammed his fist into the trunk of a tree, bark cutting his skin, the force fracturing his knuckles. Pain shot through his entire arm, but offered no relief from the pressure and strain inside him.
Thunder rumbled, rattling the trees. The third time in the last five minutes. The storm grew closer.
William had created some sort of magical cap over the campsite, but Puck had ventured outside the enclosure. Would rather be plugged with ice daggers than accept any more help from that man. Besides, the thick canopy of leaves overhead should keep him safe.
"Not exactly apathetic now, huh?"
He swung around, a dagger raised in reflex. As Gillian stepped into a stray beam of moonlight, a vision from his deepest fantasies, he sheathed the weapon with a trembling hand.
"Go to sleep," he said, his voice hoarse, his chest constricting and burning, as if he'd been scraped raw inside. "You need rest." I need peace. "You don't want to be around me right now. I'm neither affectionate nor fun."
"I'm sensing a theme," she said, staying put. "Are you able to feel emotion if you don't summon ice, without suffering some kind of punishment? Or does the demon snuff out everything?"
He turned his back on her. One more glance, and he would lose control. He would take her, obstacles and consequences be damned.
"Answer me," she demanded. "I'm not leaving until you do."
"The answer doesn't matter."
"It matters to me. You matter. So tell me true. Can you feel for extended periods if you allow yourself? Or were you pretending the times I thought you'd warmed?"
"Yes, I can feel for extended periods," he snapped in a quiet voice. More thunder. Louder, closer. The pitter-patter of rain sounded next, followed by the whoosh of falling ice daggers. A cool breeze blew in, damp with dew.
"What happens when you do? I know Indifference doesn't weaken you anymore. Does he punish you in other ways? You said you needed to protect yourself. Protect yourself from what?"
He needed her to go now. If she needed answers in order to leave, he would give her answers. "Yes, I'm punished, but not in the sense you think. I'm punished because I'm distracted. Because I forget what's important and endanger my goals. Because I hurt in ways I hadn't known were possible."
She flinched, as if he'd struck her. "What if I won't let you forget your goals? Would you be with me while we can? You said you would, and you never lie to me."
He wanted this. He wanted this so badly. Still he resisted.
"Without me, will Indifference regain power over you?" she asked.
He offered a single, curt nod. "For a time. But once we're parted, I'll rid myself of the demon the same way I rid myself of you." And he would pray the fiend took his emotions. All of this feeling... Puck loathed it more than ever and craved his icy, emotionless existence.
Again she flinched, but he refused to harbor any kind of guilt.
"Why are you here, asking these questions, Gillian?"
"I'm trying to understand how you can burn me up one minute but freeze me out the next."
"Well, wonder no more. I want to keep you but can't, so I war with the things you make me feel. They are my enemy, and I fight my enemies with every ounce of my strength," he snarled, and something inside him snapped. He spun, facing her, his chest expanding with raging desire and fury.
She took a step back, which only incited him further.
Blood rushed into each of his muscles, causing them to bulge. "Nothing more to say?" he chided.
She raised her chin. "You're clearly not done."
No, he wasn't. "To be with you, I must condemn my realm to destruction and my people to pain. But what kind of man abandons his people? On the other hand, what kind of man abandons his wife? A wife he craves with every fiber of his being. A wife who will not want him back once she's set free."
Her eyes smoldered. "I want you while we're together. Why isn't that enough?"
"Because--just because!"
"Stop thinking about tomorrow. What do you want right now, in this moment?"
In this moment? Her. He couldn't see past the want, couldn't think past the need. The two pulsed in his temples, his throat, and squeezed at his chest, vibrated throughout the rest of his body.
He wanted her--and he would have her. Right now. Walk around the sword? No longer. Some wounds you bore, because anything less was worse.
"If you want me while we're together, you'll have me," he vowed, "but you'll also have the fallout. I can barely deal with my emotions now. What do you think I'll feel after this?"
"I'll deal," she said, raising her chin another notch.
Then how could he do any less? "So be it."
Puck stalked toward his wife--his prey. As his long legs ate up the distance, tension lived and breathed inside him. Good thing. Because he couldn't breathe at all. But then, he didn't need to--soon, Gillian would do it for him.
When he reached her, he wrapped his arm around her waist, lifted her off her feet and kept walking until he pressed her back against a tree. Their bodies smashed together, chest to breasts, erection to cradle, as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.
His tongue tangled with hers in a mad frenzy. He poured himself into the kiss, feeding her every drop of his ferocity, nothing held back. He was too aggressive, and he knew it, but there was no slowing down. He'd been pushed too far, control beyond him.
And maybe she liked it. She combed her fingers through his hair and made a fist at his nape. Her other hand migrated to his chest--
"Not the bird," he grated.
Without a word of complaint, she moved her hand to his shoulder and sank her nails in deep. Both actions were a silent demand: Puck was not to walk away from her. As if he could.
"Off." He stopped kissing her only long enough to lift her arms and then her pretty dress over her head, freeing her breasts from confinement. Such perfect little handfuls, with dusky rose tips. His new favorite sight in all the realms.
The moment his mouth resealed over hers, her hands returned to his nape and shoulder. Puck's hands worshipped those luscious mounds, luxuriating in the pearl-hard nipples.
"Touch me," he rasped into her mouth.
"Yes, yes." The hand on his shoulder slid down his chest, delved under the waistband of his pants. Silken fingers wrapped around his length, stoking his need higher and higher.
Puck's roar blended with the next crack of thunder and the increasingly riotous patter of rain.
"You're so big," she said between panting breaths.
"More," he commanded. "Stroke more."
As his good, good lass stroked him up, down, up, he grew more frantic and set into her mouth with renewed vigor. Thrusting his tongue. Sucking on hers. Exacting a response. Nipping her lower lip before running the plump flesh between his teeth.
Only when she writhed against him did he tunnel a hand between her legs, rip away her panties and slam two fingers inside her.
Her scream of pleasure...music to his ears. Her head fell back as she arched her hips, allowing him to drive his fingers deeper.