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“Why are you only telling me now?” he grated, his voice dark, hoarse, and vibrating with malice.

Why now? Why tonight?

She’d had weeks to do so. To explain the truth and let him make an informed decision about her. He’d been choosing to trust and care for someone who may not have truly deserved any form of kindness from him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she whispered around huffing breaths, catching them now that he’d ceased crushing her to death. “I didn’t know how you’d react, but I had to get you here. I was worried you’d venture through the Veil, or get lost and distracted along the way. I wanted to make up for everything, but I always knew that when I got you here safely, I would tell you. I just... couldn’t leave you by yourself.”

By myself.If I kill her, I will be alone.

Not truly, he was discovering, since he had the other Mavka who seemed to have welcomed him within their group.

He couldn’t dismiss what she said, though. Ingram was easily distracted, and he was also impatient for the death of the Demon King and Aleron’s return. Keeping her safe, and following her, was likely the only reason he hadn’t gotten frustrated and just sprinted on all fours to Magnar’s ward.

He whimpered, wanting to put space between them, but just couldn’t seem to bear the loss of her warmth – even despite everything he’d just learned.

I... don’t want to let go.

“Why... everything else?” he asked.

Why had she touched him and let him touch in return? All the times he’d held her, slept by her, and spent fond memories with her, like experiencing a moment of peace in a meadow filled with butterflies. Did she truly care for him, or was it a farce to keep him placid until now?

Fuck.He didn’t want any of it to have come from a place of deceit.

Ingram had enjoyed all of their time together, even if much of their journey had been confusing. Learning of her, slowly having her open up to him, had been a gruelling wait, but worth it.

Like she understood what he meant, what he’d been trying to ask despite his unclear and pained thoughts muddling him, she let out a contented sigh.

“Because you are just so sweet, it makes me want to give you the world.” She stroked her soft hand against the back of his hard skull. “But I can’t do that. All I can do is help you kill the Demon King and give as much of myself as I can until then.”

Is that why she had instigated this hug?

She’d chosen to be within his arms, completely and utterly trapped to him, when she had known he may not react well. He’d been moments from hurting her, and she’d still trustingly clung to him and told him the truth.

Emerie had placed herself in a vulnerable position.

Did she want to show me she cares in case her words were not enough?That’s all he could think.She asked me to forgive her before she even began speaking. Told me she regretted it.

All of this was enough to stroke the worst of his shaken mind into calming. She had shown him the ultimate trust. It was enough to stir him into just embracing the feel of her while he tried to decide if he could forgive her, or even trust her anymore.

He stared at the dirtied cream tent wall as he took in the essence of Emerie.

Her heartbeat fluttering against his chest like it wanted to battle against his much bigger one. Her warm, shuddering breaths waving over the corded muscle of his throat. Her soft body moulding against his much bigger, harder, and imposing one.

Her hair didn’t glow in the dark, but it was a shaded red in a way that wasn’t angry like his orbs, yet stirred passion. It was silky as it crawled over the back of his arm and spilled her scent into him.

Her strawberry-and-primrose aroma was so luscious and mind-numbing that it pushed away any trepidation he’d been feeling.

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered languidly. “I never meant to hurt you, and that was even before I learned how wonderful you were.”

She did not do it out of callousness or hate towards me.Perhaps to a Duskwalker, a monster, but not theIngramshe had come to discover. The one that wanted to cling to her as much as she was currently. The one that wanted to touch, and taste, and experience her, as she had with him.

She made a mistake.That was what he wanted to believe.

He had made plenty of them.

He’d almost made another.I was about to destroy her.

“It... is okay, pretty butterfly,” he grated with a voice laden with so much emotion, it was thick and heavy.