Rohan smiled. "You can't lose me. I am somewhat indestructible if I want to be, my love. Isabelle has no idea she's messed with the wrong person. I won't stop until I know why she is disturbing you." He promised.
Belle began to part her lips to argue, but he tilted her face up to his and kissed her, closing the words in her throat.
Belle rose on tiptoes into the kiss, seeking him, needing him. Everything she had done settled onto her like a black miasma, how she was changing, and how she could hurt another person without feeling bad.
If she could wash away the fact that she had somehow hurt her husband, she would.
Belle kissed his lips, running her hands over his wet broad shoulders.
Only a man as strong as Rohan could have survived what the spirit had done.
Belle sought him with a hunger she didn't understand. Her blood burned for him, but not for the pleasure he could give her. She wanted to give to him, to apologize. She needed to.
