“You killed him.”
“I know.”
It goes quiet, and she opens her eyes and looks at me.
Devastation stares back, and I want to kill him all over again. Tears well, threatening to fall, and watching her struggle guts me, and I know that I’ll do anything to stop her feeling like this ever again. Emotion pours from her like it’s too much to keep it inside her, and she can’t try any more.
It hits in waves: sadness and fear, anger and rage. One after the other, relentless. All I want is to run my hands over her skin to soothe her and check every inch to ensure she’s still in one piece.
“They snatched it from me, and from there, everything went sideways. When I touched them, nothing happened, or it felt like it rebounded, and my power came back at me, somehow drowning me. I saw so many things…”
She shuffles into a sitting position with her back against the wall and pulls her knees to her chest as she surveys the room. I watch as her defences build back into place, including keeping me out, as everything I can feel suddenly ceases.
Maybe I shouldn’t have given us space over the last few days, but I needed to find a way to defend against her, to block that pain because I know it’s only going to get worse as she continues to get stronger. But time’s up.
I stand and look at her, tracking the worry on her face, so I reach with my power, forcing it to gauge her feelings rather than picking up on what she’s pushing at me.
Panic. Fear. Relief. They all war for dominance. And there’s doubt riding over it all, the questions she’s yet to find answers to, including if she can trust me again. Not just to tell her the truth but to tell her when to stop.
“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I’ve pulled back, but I need you to trust me again, and if I’ve not shown you yet, then tell me what I need to do to fix that.” I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever she asks.
Her eyes flash between mine as if she’s not sure what to say.
“I can’t give you what you want. I have no answers and no way to stop the pain that happens when we touch.” To make my point, I trail my thumb over her cheek to swipe at the tear that she can’t stop from falling.
“Ten, stop… there’s… I can’t…” Her voice cracks, but the pain doesn’t stop me. I feel it, like when I touched her necklace, the immediate attack of energy that only builds, threatening to take me over, but I refuse to be controlled by it. I want to offer her every touch, every kiss, every comfort I can because that cancels out every fucking beat of pain in my heart.
“This is shitty timing. And I’m so sorry you just went through this,” I crouch down to keep her gaze from the blood leaking on the floor—eye to eye—offering her nowhere to look but at me. “Decide if you can trust me and if you’ll forgive me because I’m done. I’m done keeping my distance from you or pretending like there isn’t something between us. I’m done with everything they’ve thrown at you, but the one thing I’m not done with is you. So, the sooner you accept that, the better.”
“But you’ve…” I still her lips with my finger, not prepared to accept anything else out of her mouth.
“Shh.”
“Ten.”
“Cheat.”I smile, unable to help it, as she bypasses my physical prevention.
“I can hurt you.”Another tear escapes and drops to her cheek, and a pulse of icy cold energy beats around her as if trying to keep me out.
“You can’t. Not the way you’re frightened of.” Touching her doesn’t cripple me, not like seeing those men attacking her. After that, I don’t think anything she could do would hurt as much as seeing her in pain and feeling her terror.
“You’ve changedeverythingfor me. And I’m sick of being careful around you because I feel you, Ever. In here.” I grab her hand and place it over my heart. I want to say more, my heart and mind are in agreement about her being the single most important person in my world—the reason to fight, the reason to breathe—but I just smile. My mind flares with images, but I concentrate on pulling my power and building the shield in my mind to prevent them from invading along with the pain, and I think of the only thing that matters in this moment—Ever.
“Come on.” I pull her to her feet and walk her out of the cell. But before I reach the steps, I stop, grab her with both hands and bring my lips to hers, unable to take another step without showing her that I will bear all the pain if it means I can be with her. Soft lips meet mine, tentative but giving, and I know I’ve won.
Damn the consequences.
forty
. . .
Ever
Isoften against him before kissing him back. It feels like a lifetime ago that we were this close, at the waterfall, and I was excited to be kissed by the boy I liked. The distance that’s wedged itself between us has let doubt and worry infect my mind with questions of pain and right or wrong. His lips do a good job of silencing them. They demand my surrender, and any thoughts evaporate.
He came for me. He saved me. And Idotrust him.
My tongue presses against his, and I encourage the kiss to pull us closer together, deeper, and to weave a patch over the hole in my heart. But my arms stay at my sides, locked in place by the will to limit his touch because while he might not care, I still do, and I can’t stand the idea of causing him more pain.
