Rori tilted her head. “What advice?”
“To spend as much time with you as he can, to give you memories to cherish when he’s gone. Rather, he does the complete opposite, bloody idiot.” He scoffed, a strange swirl of colors lighting his eyes. “Why do you pay his antics heed when, clearly, ’tis not what he desires? Nor you. He will not refuse you, but hopeyouturn away. And you did. It causes you both undue grief. Time is precious for you both right now. ’Tis a pity to waste it on sharp tongues and tears.”
She pulled her legs beneath her, rising to her knees, clinging to his hand with both of hers. “Is there nothing I can do to save him? Is there really no hope?”
Shadows crossed Shaye’s face before he lowered his gaze for the first time since he’d arrived. He turned his hand in hers and offered another gentle squeeze before he rose to his feet. She accepted his help climbing up to her own, legs weak and wobbly.
“Find hope within each other. Don’t allow him to push you away with his gilded tongue. I’m sure he can put it to better use other than causing conflict that’ll lead to time you can’t get back and the regret of losing out on precious memories.” After a casual glance down the corridor, he offered a sincere smile. “Do you recall how to find his room?”
Rori sucked her lower lip between her teeth, following Shaye’s gaze down the corridor in the direction she had come from. Beyond that, she was clueless.
She’d barely started to shake her head when the floor beneath her feet disappeared, the air crushed in on her, and the world turned dark.
A split second later, before she could as much as open her mouth to react, she found herself standing in another corridor, this one familiar. At the far end, a single door.
Shaye released her hands. “The last thing he wants is tobe without you. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”
Rori peeled her attention away from the door long enough to look at Shaye. “Thank you. For everything.”
He smiled, nudging her in the back. “Go.”
29
No one needed to tell her twice.
Rori rushed down the corridor, the looming wooden door challenging her to push through the physical barrier standing between her and Thaddeus, while the heaviness in the air the closer she came taunted her to try and break through the walls he had erected.
To hell with it all.
The latch opened without resistance, and she threw the door wide. She spotted Thaddeus immediately, slumped in one of the chairs before the fire, a man who only a short time ago stood like an unmovable force now appeared to have been stripped of all strength and fight, hope and life. A shell of a man whose vulnerability she could taste in the air, feel like the looming gray underbelly of storm clouds, and that resonated deep inside her.
He lifted his gaze from the flames toward her, his eyes dull blue and sapped of life. He stared at her for a long moment as if he didn’t register her presence, moving only to breathe, his chin resting on his fist, elbow propped on the arm of the chair. Rori grabbed the door and slammed it shut, then spun back toThaddeus, who had finally seemed to realize he wasn’t dreaming. His brows creased. He lifted his chin from his fist, hands gripping the edges of the arms as his back straightened.
“You fucking infuriate me, you damn Faery man,” she groused loudly, storming across the room. He began to rise, but she reached him before he got to the edge of the chair and shoved him back. His eyes went wide, his jaw slackening as she climbed over his lap, grabbed his lapels and gave him a fierce shake.
“Is that what you wanted?” She shook him again. “Isit?!”
“Stor—”
“To hurt me?”
“Godde—”
“Because,” she brought her face mere inches from his and hissed, “youwon’t.”
She crushed her mouth to his, cutting off any further response behind her demanding kiss. He didn’t miss a single beat, following each hungry sweep of her tongue and desperate drink from his mouth with his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sank her fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands, trying desperately to get closer when there was so much in the way.
She noticed the moment he tried to take control, the same moment his arms whipped around her and pulled her tight. She smacked a hand against his chest, pushing him back. He stared at her, his eyelids heavy, his pupils wide, the familiar lively glow back in his irises despite the haze of desire. Breaths came in labored gasps through glistening lips.
She caught his chin between tight fingers, earning herself a surprised arch of his brow. “You don’t get to give your heart to me only to take it back, you fucking bastard. Do you understand me?Youdon’tgettodothat. Not when you havemine in return.” With a strong flick of her hand, she released his chin and jabbed her pointer between his pecs. “We do this together. You and I.” Leaning close, she drew out clearly, “To-ge-ther.”
He caught the back of her head as she leaned back, his fingers finding purchase tangled within her braid, bringing her close, and growled, “Aye,moghrá.”
This time, he took control, and dear God, she melted. The hurt, the pain, the betrayal he aimed to create all fizzled away. His tongue possessed her, his mouth claimed her, his hold on her had her hating the back of the chair where her knees hit, keeping her from getting closer.
Three days she’d been without him. Three long, tormenting days, and the rebound was blissfully chaotic.
One moment, she was trying to close the gap between them. The next, she was in the air, his hand clinging to the back of her head, and his arm wrapped so steadily around her waist, crushing her hips to his.
