She chuckled. “You are racking up all kinds of rewards.” She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck. “So, backtracking. You are Thane the...what?”

“Thane of the Three.”

“Oh. Well, that’s kind of anticlimactic.”

“Disappointed?”

“Kind of. Sorry to tell you this, but I think you need a new one.”

He was her man. He wanted her proud of him. “Most people assume the three refers to Xerxes and Bjorn, but I had the name before I knew the men.” He added, “The three actually refers to the ways I kill. Dead. Deader. And purged from all eternity.”

“I don’t know whether to be scared...or pleased.”

“I vote for pleased.”

“My mother would have voted for pleased, too,” she said.

He grinned almost shyly. “Do you think your mother would have liked me?”

“There are the dimples I adore,” she said, brightening.

She adored them, and so he would make sure she saw them. Often. “Your mother,” he prompted, anxious to know.

“She wouldn’t have liked you.”

He didn’t allow his hurt to show.

“She would have loved you,” Elin added.

Another grin—another flash of the dimples, he was sure. The word loved echoed in his mind. As if he were worthy of such an emotion.

He wasn’t. But I can make myself.

I will.

* * *

DARK CURSES CUT through the air.

Thane’s rage-infused voice roused Elin from a deep, peaceful sleep. She blinked open her eyes, and saw that he was thrashing on his side of the bed, the covers kicked off and bunched at his feet.

As he hurtled more curses, he clawed at his chest. His nails scraped away skin, like shovels scraped away dirt. His fingers burrowed in the open grooves. As if...as if...

Her stomach twisted. “Thane.” She gently patted his cheek. “Wake up, baby.”

His arm shot up. His fingers wrapped around her neck and squeezed. Squeezed so tightly she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even wheeze.

She latched on to his wrist and tugged—but he was so strong, he didn’t budge. He only squeezed that much harder.

Pain...then light-headedness...

Was this the way she would die?

In a last-ditch effort to free herself, she batted at his face.

Weakness...

Her fingers ended up in his mouth, and for whatever reason, that snapped him to his senses. He blinked, shook his head.

His gaze met hers, and widened with horror.

He released her as if he’d just discovered she was nuclear waste, panting, “Elin, Elin. I’m so sorry.”

She sagged against him.

He held on to her as she sucked in mouthful after mouthful of air. He even tightened his hold, as though she was a life raft amid a fierce storm—as though he feared she would run off at any moment.

Not nuclear waste after all.

His heartbeat thundered against her chest. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said, petting him. “You didn’t do any permanent damage.” A few weeks ago, a choking coupled with the sight of torn flesh would have sent her into a screaming fit. But honestly? She wasn’t the person she used to be. She was the girl her mother had always hoped she’d be.

She didn’t need to use anyone for anything. She was strong, in both mind and body. Proof: she had battled crazed demons. She had gone toe-to-toe with a team of adrenaline-junkie vampyras and purposely stood in the way of raining boulders.

A little suffocation? Whatevs.

A full-body tremor rocked him. “I could have... I shouldn’t have stayed here...should have left you alone. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Lightbulb. He hadn’t wanted to share a room with her because he suffered frequent, and violent, nightmares. Inside her, a well of tenderness bubbled over. “I’m glad I’m here.” The thought of him dealing with this alone nearly broke her heart.

“Tell me,” she said. “About the dream.”

He stiffened but replied, “Not a dream.”

Then... “A memory?”

He released her and climbed from the bed. Naked, he stalked to the closet and withdrew a robe. No, two robes. After he dressed, he pulled her upright and tugged the other one over her head, tenderly freeing her hair before fitting her arms through the sleeves.

So..nversations about the nightmare/memories were a no-go. Got it. And it kind of hurt, after everything they’d already shared. But at least he’d gifted her with a robe from his personal stash rather than forcing her to wear something from the skank parade.

Meow. Jealous, anyone?

Why was she so upset, anyway? He was only giving her more of what she’d originally asked for. Sex without entanglement.

Yeah, but that wasn’t what he had pushed for or what they had ultimately agreed on. They were part of a full-on commitment now, and he would just have to live with the consequences.

“Thane.” She clasped on to his wrists, maintaining a physical connection with him. “Talk to me.”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“You can trust me. I’ll never share your secrets.”

He lifted her hands to his mouth, kissed the knuckles on both. “We are going to the treasure chest, and you are going to pick the furniture you want for your room. I know you don’t want to stay there, but you’re going to do it anyway.”

Strike one. But okay. She could tackle this from a different angle and launch a sneak attack via the room situation. Without the hurt of rejection, thinking he didn’t want her in his personal space because she meant so little, she was touched that he wanted her so close to him. But three things bothered her. One, the nightmares. He shouldn’t have to suffer alone. And he did suffer. The torment in his eyes... Poor Thane. Two, the terrible memories he’d created in the other room. Although, it might be time to make new memories in there. And three, the condition of his bedroom. He wanted to keep her in luxury and deprive himself. Why?

Complicated immortal. Far more than she’d ever expected. He punished his enemies without mercy—perhaps this was a punishment to himself. But for what?

Whatever the problem, whatever he’d done or not done, she only wanted good things for him from now on.

“All right,” she said. “We can go to the treasure chest, and I will pick out things for the other room.”