The Awakening: Liam (Entangled Covet) (6 page)

He groaned against her lips. She would always make him whole. He
had
to find a way to make her love

him again. Make it so when they got out of this hell, she wouldn’t walk away.

When she opened her lips to him, welcomed him inside, his happiness soared. He didn’t think she was

even aware of her surrender as she willingly kissed him back, her tongue flicking against his in a mad need

that matched his own. After everything she’d claimed, she still wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Pulling back, he pressed his forehead against hers. The blood trailing down her arms wet his neck.

When he lowered her to her feet and stepped back, he saw the blood streaking down her leg. His beast

growled, wanting to emerge, to use its special powers to heal her. Liam fought it back.

Something told him that hiding the fact that he was reconnected with his beast from their captor was

essential.

The man had wanted to play a game, had all but admitted he was a shifter and would’ve known cutting

into another shifter’s bonding marks would have produced a rage so profound the beast would make an

appearance. Yet, he seemed shocked when Liam had webbed the glass. He hadn’t been expecting the beast.

Thankfully, Liam
hadn’t
been completely reconnected to his beast then. Now he was. Kissing Ava,

having her willingly in his arms, had given him back his beast.

“L-Liam?”

“Sorry. I was just—” His words halted as he looked up and saw the pallor of her skin, the fear in her

eyes. “What is it?”

“What did you do to make him h-hate you so badly? Why am I always being p-punished for something

y-you did?”

The fear, the accusation, in her voice tore at his gut. This man was making her believe the worst of him.

Just seconds ago, he had her in his arms, but the distance between them had never been greater. When he

finally got his hands on this bastard, he’d rip the fucker’s head off.

He went to take her hand, to again insist he knew nothing, but stopped at the blood dripping off her

fingertips. The fact that she seemed oblivious to her injury let Liam know shock was setting in. After

everything she’d been put through…

Because of something
he’d
done.

Ava shuddered. The way she stared straight ahead scared him, and he hesitantly put an arm around her.

As he gently walked her to the bathroom, she allowed him to lead her without a fight, which freaked him

out more. He lightly pushed her down until she sat on the toilet lid, then turned to the sink and wet a towel.

The entire time the blank expression didn’t leave her face.

Dropping to his knees before her, he cradled her arm in his hand, keeping it away from the dried blood

caked on his skin—blood that was not hers, praise
Dea
. He stood up and scrubbed his hands in the sink,

refusing to touch her with such filth on his hands. Kneeling before her again, he softly dabbed at the wound

on her arm and was thankful to see it wasn’t deep. Then he placed his hands on her knees and tried to

spread her legs to reach the cut on her thigh. She jerked, clamping her legs together. Though it pained him

that her first reaction since he’d started cleaning her wounds was because he’d touched her knee, he was

glad to see some life returning to her eyes.

“Baby, I need to see how bad it is.”

The tension eased. As he cleaned the cut, fury crashed over him anew. It would leave a scar—always be

there as a reminder that this bastard had dared to hurt her, that he had disfigured Liam’s mark before he’d

gotten the chance to show her the true power and beauty of it.

Could he wipe the rest that absent look from her face if he finally showed her?

He softly brushed his thumb over the uninjured mark on her other thigh.

She gasped, jerking, her legs widening even further. “Oh…God.”

The light caress had the intended effect, pink livened her skin as her eyes rounded in disbelief. Thank

Dea
, she was back from whatever bad place she’d been.

He brushed it again, then gently pressed. A slow moan seeped from between her lips as she clapped

down on his wrist and tugged his hand away. “W-why does that feel so good? It never feels like that when I

touch them.”

He inhaled sharply, jerking back. She had touched them before?

“Ava…when did you realize what the marks did?”

”Why?”

“Just curious.”

“A few weeks ago.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“Really?” She tried to tug her face from his hands. “You have to ask that?”

“It matters.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was having a little bit of alone time, okay? I brushed against them and it felt

good. Don’t read anything into it.”

When she shoved past him, he let her escape, reeling from her confession. She didn’t understand how

the marks worked or what she’d just admitted to him For her to give herself pleasure through the marks,

she had to think about
him
—only him, no one else—when she touched them...with lustful thoughts. And

she’d done that
after
she’d left him.

Liam smiled. Maybe there was hope after all.

…

As she rounded the wall, Ava silently cursed. When he didn’t immediately follow, she was thankful.

She couldn’t look at him right now, not after admitting she’d played with marks she supposedly scorned.

Thank God he had no clue she’d been thinking about him during that time.

The night she discovered what the marks were capable of was still a vivid memory. It was the night

she’d looked up to see Liam standing on the sidewalk outside her house. All kinds of conflicting emotions

she’d thought she had control over had resurfaced the moment she’d seen him, but the one that stood out

the most was how much she missed him. Missed his arms around her, his smell—everything about him.

Later, she found herself lying in bed, with the hem of her gown around her hips as she studied the

bruises, knowing they weren’t the hickies he’d spent months claiming them to be.

She’d never doubted him. Never had a reason to…until now.

Ava paced around the room. Why had she kissed him? After he’d yanked off her restraints and she’d

collapsed into his arms, the horror she’d felt from waking in intense agony disappeared. The moment

Liam’s arms had closed around her, held her tight, it’d been like coming home, and everything else had

faded into the background.

How did he still have that power over her with the hell that was happening around them—happening to

her
because of
him
?

He swore he didn’t know who was behind this, but how could she ignore the possibility that two men

had made threats, had hurt people, in the name of Liam?

Long list.

Exactly how long was it, and how long before another decided to join the ranks?

What could he have done to it initiate this type of vengeful response? The Liam she’d spent six months

desperately in love with was good to his core. But that was before she learned he was a shifter. That he’d

lied about owning her to try to force her to stay. Who knew what happened to him in his shifter world. He

might be totally different.

What if she didn’t even like shifter Liam?

He stepped out from behind the divider with his shirt off as he scrubbed at the blood on his arms with a

wet towel. The deep purple splotches on his torso caused her heart to plummet. “Oh God. Liam.”

Stopping, he looked at her, then glanced down at his body. “It’ll heal,” he reassured her.

He said it so nonchalantly she took him at his word. Then he disappeared behind the divider on his side

of the room, only to return a few moments later tugging on a fresh shirt. She’d always loved admiring

Liam’s chest, but had to admit, she was thankful he’d covered the damage he’d done to himself saving her.

The terror on his face as he had repeatedly slammed his body against the partition was forever branded in

her mind.

Maybe he did have his enemies, but she was certain he would move heaven and earth to get her out of

this alive, just as she would do the same for him.

As he passed his tray of food, he picked it up.

She watched him closely as she sat down on the mat. He seemed so much more relaxed than the raging

man that had shattered into the room. How? There was no way to escape. He’d proven that when he’d

failed to take the metal door down. If he couldn’t get through it, then she sure as hell couldn’t. And then

there was the gas.

“Liam, what if he gasses the room?”

“The partition is gone. He won’t do that again, unless he’s done with his games.”

“How can you be sure?”

“There’s a reason he only gassed my side, Ava. The amount it takes to knock me out would kill you.”

“But—”

A slight shake of his head had her cutting off her words. As he walked toward her, he held her gaze, an

unmistakable warning in them. She swallowed. He was planning something. What, she had no idea.

He sat beside her, balanced the tray on his knees, then cut into the steak. As he stuck the tip of the fork

in front of her mouth, he said, “Eat.”

Leaning back, she pushed the utensil away. “No way. I saw your abdomen. You need that more than I

do. I can eat the oatmeal.”

The gentle brush of his thumb ran across her cheek, and she flinched from how tender the area was.

The man had apologized right before backhanding her hard. She didn’t remember anything else after that.

Then Liam’s hand glided over her jawline to her throat, a finger tracing the ring of bruises there. “You

can’t hide your injuries like I can mine.” He shook the fork. “Now eat.”

Still she hesitated.

“Please, Ava.” He closed his eyes briefly, but not before she saw a glimpse of pain. “If this is really

about me, if you are being hurt because of me,
please
eat this.”

The raw agony in his voice caused her breathing to cease. Even though he’d sworn this wasn’t about

him, this was the first time she’d seen something other than rage toward their situation. Was it possible he

really didn’t have enemies? Or at least wasn’t aware that he did?

Either way, she couldn’t ignore his pain. Leaning forward she did what he asked and closed her lips

around the prongs. After he went to cut another piece, she covered his hands with hers, then took the fork

from him and lifted it to his lips. “Compromise.”

He studied her for a moment then opened his mouth and closed his lips around the fork, lips that had

felt so good against hers again. The thought came out of nowhere as flutters erupted in her belly. His pupils

dilated as the dark brown irises faded to a bright caramel. She loved watching his eyes do that. Had

forgotten how much she’d missed it, how it had always, even before she knew what he was, made her feel

special.

“Why do they do that?” she whispered.

Blinking, he turned his head away as he took the fork from her and speared another piece of meat.

When he looked at her again, his eyes were back to normal. Why wouldn’t he answer her question? But she

took the hint and ate the food, then offered him his portion.

They ate like that, each taking turns feeding the other. At any point, they could’ve started feeding

themselves, but neither made the move to do so. For her at least, she liked having him feed her and then

feed him in return. It reminded her of happier times, when things between them had been perfect, when she

hadn’t known there was a secret world hiding within hers.

After they finished, he placed the tray on the floor and stretched. “I think we should try and get some

sleep.” He dropped his voice. “When I shattered the window, I think I bought us some time. With me in the

same room, he’s not going to be able to get to you. He ran away for a reason. He knows I’m stronger than

he is. We need to take advantage of that while we can.”

Sleep sounded wonderful. A real sleep. Not the drug induced ones she’d had over the last how many

hours.

When she lay down on the mat, he stretched out behind her, his arm going around her waist as it always

had when they’d been together. The weight of his arm made memories so bittersweet bombard her that a

sting of tears started to burn her eyes. Then his lips brushed against her ear. “I’m not leaving your side.”

The fierceness of his words washed over her, and her heart expanded in her chest until she was certain

it would explode. The feeling was so in odds with her doubt, her fear, it was too much to handle.

Everything she’d known, everything she believed, was not true and she had no idea what was anymore.

“I can’t, Liam.” She broke free of his hold and scooted forward until she could no longer feel his chest

touch her back. “I just…can’t.”

A frustrated exhale came from behind her, followed by the sound of his body plopping back against the

mat. She forced herself to ignore him and kept her eyes on the wall in front of her. The prison door

squeaked open. Liam was on his feet, standing over her, arms spread at his side in less than a second. The