Page 209

“A few more days,” he repeated incredulously. His eyes shut, nostrils flaring wide. When he reopened his eyes, they were solid black. Even after killing that demon, one of those awful Surges had him in its grip. “A few more days, and you’ll miraculously stop hating me?”

She tried to say it again—tried to speak around the spell. But her voice got stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t even croak. The only thing she managed to choke out, the words a shaky and pathetic whisper, was, “I’m afraid of Gaven.” It was the best excuse she could think of—the only way to get him out of here safely before Klay decided to wreck everything by tattling to his dad. Klay, who was still watching, the stupid ass, his face partially hidden behind the groups of students who refused to go back to their houses.

Darien was studying her. “You’re afraid of Gaven.”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“I would never let anything or anyone hurt you, sweetheart.”

“It’s not about that.”

The black in his eyes seemed to deepen, if that were possible. So did his frown, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “There’s a lot of shit going on, Loren. I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit I’ve been dying to tell you about, but you haven’t been talking to me, and it’s killing me to stay away from you when I should be protecting—” He abruptly stopped. Drew a deep breath. “I’m worried about you,” he breathed.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you promise you would tell me if you were in trouble?”

“Yes, Darien.”

“And you’re fine?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she insisted. “I’m standing here right now, aren’t I?” She gestured to herself. “I’m in one piece.” She said again, “I’m fine.”

The reality of her words seemed to sink in, and the harsh look on his face told her what he was thinking: he was wrong to believe something bad was happening with her. She was staying away from him by choice, not because she was being forced to, not because she was in trouble.

It felt like someone had driven a knife through her heart, pushing it in so deep that it burst through her back.

Darien bit out, “I have to go.” He walked away before she could say anything else.

Tears burned her eyes, and her lungs hurt so much that she had to brace her hands on her knees again.

She hated Klay. She hated the imperator. She hated how she was being forced to do this, and that she hadn’t found a way around it yet.

Darien was several feet away when he stopped. Tipping his head back, he looked up at the burnt ceiling, his back facing her. He seemed to be warring with himself about what he should do, weighing his desire with his undying respect for her, as Darien so often did.

And then he turned around and came back.

A sob crawled up her throat as he took her hands off her knees and helped her stand straight.

“I love you,” he said. The words were strong, yet somehow still gentle in a way that only Darien could manage. “I love you, and your fears are valid, okay?” He cradled her face in his hands again. “I’ll fix all of this, I promise. I’ll fix it, and then you can come back home.” His throat bobbed with a swallow, and his eyes filled with emotion, the black temporarily gone. “If…if you still want it to be your home.” The question in his words was like a fist to her gut, and she nearly doubled over from the pain. “Do you?”

“Of course.” The words were a cry that tore out of her, and suddenly she couldn’t see.

He nodded. “Okay. Okay, great.” Those eyes flicked to her lips. “Can I kiss you?”

She managed a bumpy nod.

He pulled her face to his and kissed her on the mouth, the salt of her tears running between her lips and his. When he pulled away, he studied her again, desperate for answers.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. “I’m feeling that you don’t want me to leave, but you’re telling me to.”

“I’m confused.” The words were out before she could stop them.

They weren’t her words.