Page 26

AREK

I haven’t spoken to her much about the bond, but I should have. Gods, there are so many things I should have done differently.

Frustration is my constant companion.

My thumb makes small circles on the soft top of her hand, the skin-to-skin contact with her settling me.

She’s quiet the rest of the walk into the area set up outside the keep for our ceremony. Music trickles through the night air as soon as we walk into it, growing louder as we approach the clearing between the castle walls and the village proper.

Jewel-toned banners swing in the cool evening breeze, and a cheer goes up as we appear, Kyrie now clutching my elbow like her life depends on it.

Her anxiety surprises me.

I jerk my chin in greeting, then turn to my mate, blocking her from the revelers’ view and bracketing her waist with my hands.

“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.” I keep my tone as steady as possible, knowing she needs me to be solid right now.

“But it’s your mating ceremony.”

She doesn’t say anything about it being ours, let alone hers .

“My feelings about this night don’t matter at all, and my people will enjoy themselves whether or not we’re here.”

Kyrie nibbles her lower lip, and the faintest tremble goes over her skin.

“We can leave if you don’t want to be here,” I tell her again, worry cracking my heart open.

Will she ever recover from what I did to her?

Guilt would drag me under to the darkest of places if I let it.

“I can’t take it,” she says, so quietly I have to strain to hear her over the crowd.

I want to demand she tell me what’s wrong, but I don’t.

I wait.

I’ve spent thousands of years waiting for Kyrie, waiting for happiness.

I will wait as long as it takes to win her heart back, if I ever am deserving of it.

“This,” she says, gesturing between us desperately. “The bond. It feels so heavy, your… guilt.” She whispers the last word, her lip whitening from the pressure of her teeth on it. “I hate that I caused it.”

Before I can think better of it, I fold her into my arms, instinct winning out over rational thought. Her breath is warm against the fabric of my black shirt, and after a moment, her hands rise, circling around me as she returns the embrace.

“You didn’t cause it. I did, Kyrie. It is mine, and mine alone, to bear.”

“I can hear your teeth grinding,” she says in response. “I can feel… so much.”

It takes a concerted effort to unstick my jaw.

Inhaling, I shove my guilt deep, deep within me, mentally locking it up in a box so black it absorbs all light. “I am here for you, Kyrie. Always. Always and forever.”

“I know.”

Two little words.

No argument.

It should make me rejoice, but all I feel is her own heavy sadness.

“Dance with me,” I say, and though it could be, it’s not a command. It’s desperate, an attempt to pull her back to the light, to keep her from the dark place we would drown in if we let ourselves.

A slight nod is the only answer I get.

And gods help me, I want so much more.

I want everything I shouldn’t hope for.

But I’ll take a dance.