“Hard life for you here. And for your boy.”
“True, but I don’t mind working hard. Sometimes I feel like this land saved me. After Sal was gone, it was the only thing I had left besides Pietro. I keep this place going for my son.” She let go of a quiet laugh. “And for my own sanity.”
Scythe’s stare seemed to bore into her as she spoke. She hadn’t intended to bare her soul to him, no more than he probably cared to hear about her past mistakes.
She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m rambling. Must be all the sun I had today.”
“It takes a strong woman to survive everything you did and come out the other side. Your son is very lucky to have a mother like you.”
His words rocked her back on her heels and she met his gaze.
She was gaping, but she couldn’t help it. “Was that a compliment?”
She had to struggle to keep a light tone, because if she thought too hard about how deeply she needed to hear reassurance like that, she might crumble.
Yes, definitely too much sun.
It was impacting her vision, too, making her imagine that the odd light in his obsidian gaze might be something tender, something close to admiration.
“It was a compliment, Chiara. One you certainly have earned.”
She waited for him to say something more, something critical of her or her stubborn refusal to leave the vineyard after the ordeal with Massioni had ended six weeks ago.
But he didn’t.
Scythe’s compliment was just that. The praise warmed her even more. It made her realize how accustomed she’d become to Sal’s disapproval, to the control he exerted over her in everything she did, and how long she had gone without hearing a simple word of support or encouragement.
Chiara swallowed. “Thank you, Scythe.”
He shrugged. “No need for thanks. I only speak the truth.”
“Well, I appreciate it. More than you know.”
Whether it was the fresh air and sun, Scythe’s kindness, or a combination of them all, she found herself admitting something she hadn’t acknowledged to anyone before, not even Bella. “There was a time that I felt such crushing guilt over Sal. I mean, how could I not have seen him for what he was? How could I not have known what kind of man he was before I was bound to him as his mate?” She toed a loose clump of dirt and shrugged. “I still struggle with that, with respecting myself. For three years, I’ve walked around wondering if my instincts are broken or if I'm just blind. But then, when I see Pietro, I remember that I had to be with Sal—no matter what he did or the kind of male he turned out to be. I wouldn’t change a thing, because then I wouldn’t have that perfect little boy. That probably sounds very stupid to you.”
“No.” His jaw flexed as he slowly shook his head. “It isn’t stupid to love your child. It isn’t stupid to sacrifice for him. As for the male you took as your mate...”
When his words trailed off, Chiara couldn’t let it go. “Say it.”
“It’s not my place.”
She folded her arms and cocked her head at him. “Look around, Scythe. It’s just you and me and acres of grapevines. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
In the rising dusk, his obsidian irises seemed fathomless, unreadable. Yet deep within the pools of black, embers of orange light flickered. He held her gaze in a way that made her heart flutter in her rib cage and her breath seize in her lungs.
“Sal Genova was a spineless, worthless male. The pain he caused you and your son—the danger he put you both in with his weakness and cowardice—is unthinkable. It’s reprehensible. If I had the chance to bring the bastard back to life only to ash him for pleasure, I would do it.”
Scythe's voice was almost a growl, unearthly and lethal. She realized in that instant exactly how dangerous he was. There was no question he meant every word he spoke. And in spite of the fact that those words were bloodthirsty and full of banked rage—in spite of the fact that she could feel menace radiating off his immense body—she felt nothing but a warm sense of relief.
In truth, she felt more than relief.
The heat moved through her like a caress, gathering in the center of her. Scythe would kill for her. That’s what he’d come here to do as her protector for the Order, but this admission held far more weight than even that humbling commitment.
She wanted to thank him for what he said, but the air between them had grown intense, vibrating with unspoken awareness. With the attraction that hadn’t faded since last night.
She felt it, and there was no mistaking the fact that he did too.
The embers in his eyes smoldered even brighter now, and along the muscles of his bared arms, his glyphs pulsed and churned with darkening colors. Indigo, wine, and burnished gold. All the shades of Breed desire.