Page 51

Wanting Him To Be Happy

His body stills oddly before his thick brows draw together. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I—?”

The answer sinks in before I finish asking the question, and heat flares into my cheeks even more than a second ago. He thinks I mean in the lusty sense. Pretending I’m not blushing what is no doubt a bright shade of scarlet, I shrug. “I mean if you could start all over, no Eidolon, no past that you don’t remember, what would you want for yourself? What would you do first? Where would you go?”

He drops his chin, studying his boot that he sort of scuffs against the worn wood of my floors. “I mean, there’s the obvious,” he says, still scuffing away. “Shelter, safety, provisions like food and clothing.”

I nod and wait and try not to want him so badly.

His lips twist. “I’d find the owners of the voices I hear at night,” he says finally.

I don’t know what I was thinking he’d say. Something like he’d get the hells away from all of this and start a new life. But I fell for this man for so many good reasons. At his core, he will always be who he is.

I let go of the selfishly needy heat inside me. “Would you build another community like the Shadowood?”

He pauses, then nods, still not looking up.

“I like that. You helped a lot of people.”

Another nod, slower.

“And it’s who you are, I think. A protector.”

That makes him grimace. “I’m not so sure, but it feels like a purpose. A calling. Literally. Why else would the goddesses have given me the gift of hearing them if not to do something about it?”

Not all people would reach that selfless conclusion. Does he not realize that? “Eidolon in all his previous incarnations must have heard them, too,” I point out. “And yet…”

And yet the king chose to stay on his destructive, obsessive, if somewhat originally justified path of undoing what Lillnya did with Esha’s help. His bondmate’s help.

Yet another moan reaches us through the window, this in a different voice. Softer, just getting started.

Reven’s gaze flicks from my face, out the window, and back, and despite all we’ve shared, more heat surges into my cheeks. His lips crook, and I almost expect some smart-ass remark designed to make me red all over. Instead, he says, “I have a problem with what I want, though.”

I blink, trying to track the conversation. “What problem?”

“You.”

I blink again, then frown. “In this wishful scenario, I’m not a factor.”

His gaze turns pinpoint bright, trained on my face. “But you are.”

“How—”

“I hear you at night. Every night.”

Every…

My heart gives a heavy jolt. “I’ve tried not to say anything to the darkness.”

“I know. I hear you anyway, because for some reason your thoughts also filter to me.”

I take a breath. “Like what?”

“Small things. A restless sigh. Telling yourself to be patient.” His lips flatten. “Calling yourself a monster. I’m not trying to intrude, but I can’t control when it happens.”

Part of me wants to close my eyes and savor the small point of connection, and then there’s the part that would rather he not ever hear the various self-doubts floating around in my head.

“Even if I didn’t know you, I would want to find you,” he says.

My heart gives another jolt, then knocks against my ribs. “Why?”

He scans my features, almost like he’s trying to memorize them. “It’s a compulsion. The original bond maybe. Or the new one even if it’s…”

Oh. The bonds. Disappointment stops my heart and pins it to my insides so it can’t move anymore. “That’s not what you want, though. You should be able to choose.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

Another lazy sound of pleasure floats by.

He swallows and his gaze flickers again. “I liked it when you made those sounds for me.”

Oh goddess. Is he saying he wants me? More warmth flares across my skin, then sinks deeper to swirl and eddy and pool low.

Reven levers off the doorjamb to prowl closer, squatting in front of me, gaze still on my face.

I take a shuddering breath.

“I wanted you the other night,” he says. “Because of you . Not any other reason. But it’s still…strange to me.” He gives a shake of his head. “I find it very confusing.”

“I bet.”

His lips quirk again. It’s nice to see even a hint of humor from him these days, but all it does is make me want to reach out.

“The more I get to know you now, the more I respect you.”

I look at my hands and have to physically keep myself from wiping them on my clothes. “Even after I killed the nymph?”

“You didn’t,” Reven says in a voice gone hard. “That was all Eidolon. You would’ve stopped it if you could.”

I swallow. “What if I couldn’t because I was so mad at her about the curse that I wanted her dead, too?” It comes out barely audible, my voice small.

The thing is, I’ve been asking myself that question over and over. I was so angry with her in that moment. She tied me to evil .

“The fact that you’d ask yourself that, torment yourself with that, says it all.” He curls a hand around mine, covering the stains that I can still see. “You truly want to do the right thing, make the right choice. You want to help the people you lead, and those you now rule with your sister. I respect that .”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and the tightness that’s been crushing my chest since that moment lets up just a little. He doesn’t fear me—he fears Eidolon. He doesn’t blame me—he blames the king.

I’m not the evil. I’m just the tool. I know that, but it feels good to hear him say it.

“Besides, bond or not, I wouldn’t feel like this if I believed you were evil.”

My eyes spring open.

“I think I like you, too,” Reven says in a voice gone even deeper, smoother.

I can’t help but huff a laugh at that and his brows go up in question.

“Damned by faint praise,” I explain.

“Ah.” Reven ducks his head and maybe a smile flashes. I’m not so sure when he looks up again. “I like your sense of humor. And your sarcasm. You make me want to laugh.”

Awesome. I’m comic relief.

Humor fades from his expression replaced by something more…contemplative. “I like the way you look at me when you think I don’t see.”

Oh.

Prickles slowly tiptoe up my spine.

“I like the way you laugh, and what the sound of it does to me. I have the strongest urge to protect you from everything this world is throwing at you so fast and hard. And after that shared night, with the taste of you still on my tongue, the sounds you made still in my ears, the feel of you under and around me still burned into my skin…” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “But it’s not fair to you.”

To me? “Why?” I whisper, not wanting to break the spell his words are weaving around me. Around us.

“Because I don’t know if what I’m feeling is real and lasting, or if it’s just…”

I see. “Wanting to screw my brains out?”

He sort of chokes. “The mouth on you,” he says. And I’m thrown back into the time before when he used to call me on my swearing, even though he’s worse. He continues. “Not the phrase I would have used, but…yeah. Lust and proximity. Or even the remnants of a bond I didn’t make.”

Ouch. I swallow again. “I guess I see your problem.”

The way his eyes darken and he leans back slightly, I think my response disappointed him somehow. What did he want? Permission to tumble me back on my bed, get me out of his system, and then see how he felt in the morning?

Honestly, I’m tempted, despite the awkwardness still lingering from last time. Is that pathetic?

“Maybe…” I hesitate.

“Maybe what?” he prods.

Just say it, Meren. “Maybe we’re both thinking too hard about this. Maybe…” I twitch a shoulder in a move that I intend to be a casual shrug. “We could take it slow. Just go with what you feel and let the future and what we are sort itself out as we go.”

“Slow.” He says the word like he’s tasting it.

Then something flickers in his eyes. A dark thought that has him scowling just for a second.

I still catch it. “What?”

His jaw works. “I might have to kill you. If Eidolon takes over again—” He runs a hand around the back of his neck.

Right.

“It will be harder to do that if I have feelings for you,” he explains. “If I let myself.”

I slip my hand out from under his and draw my knees back in tighter, trying to draw my emotions in at the same time—the hurt and the disappointment and the doubts. “Right.” I’m nodding. “Smart. That’s smart.”

We’re both silent a second.

“Maybe after.” After this is all over and if we both live through it, he means. He nods to himself a little as he rises to his feet. Then he backs away. “After is good. That’s a good plan.”

Yeah. I hate that plan. “Good.”

He reaches the door and pauses. “Good.”

If he doesn’t leave, I’m going to jump him and forget the consequences.

He sort of straightens as if obeying an order, then spins on his heel and goes, shutting my door behind him.

I drop my head to my knees and groan at the exact same time one of the women next door hits the climax of her performance. Two very different sounds for very different reasons.

Worse. The courtesans are going to be doing that all night while I lie here in an emotional and physical state of needing and longing that just…

Another moan sounds.

“Ugh.” I push off the bed, restless energy overtaking me. Just sitting here listening to them is only going to make this harder. But Reven is in the house, and I’m trying not to be seen in Enora, so it’s not like I have anywhere I can go.

I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears, but that doesn’t help. Because now all I can see is Reven crouched in front of me with an earnest expression saying again all the ways he likes me. Especially the way I taste on his tongue and feel on his body.

Oh goddess. This is torture.

The door slams opens and then Reven is in the room. He doesn’t even give me time to ask why he’s here, his hands coming up over mine, which still cover my ears. His gaze caging my own, he gently and slowly lowers my hands to my sides before raising his again to wind his fingers through the heavy curtain of my hair. He brushes one thumb over the rise and fall of my cheekbone, never looking away from my eyes.

“Slow,” he says.

I watch him and wait.

Unhurriedly, with agonizing deliberation, he lowers his head, gaze still holding mine captive. I can see the way he takes breaths as he goes, like he’s having to steady himself. When his lips are near to brushing mine, he pauses, searching my eyes, so achingly close I want to scream and sigh into him at the same time.

“Do I have your permission?” he whispers.

Goddess yes. Hells yes. I close my eyes and close the tiny distance between us, pressing my lips to his softly. “Yes,” I whisper against his mouth.

Everything fades and centers until the only thing that exists for me is Reven. The soft warmth of his kisses, the hard plains of his body urgent against mine, his hands in my hair as he angles my head. The way we come together…we just fit. My lips to his. My body to his. My soul to his. The kiss is beautiful and deep and makes my heart flutter like a thousand butterflies. It’s also hesitant, and testing, and feeling each other out. It’s the kind of kiss two new lovers exchange for the very first time.

Precious in its newness.

He doesn’t take it too far, although I can feel how much he wants to in the way his body shakes a little against me, the way it takes him a second, and several extra kisses, to slow us down before we cross a line.

The way he puts his forehead to mine, eyes closed, breath quickened.

Heart quickened, too, just like mine.

“Like that?” he asks.

I want to cry and laugh and dance…and stay at his side forever.

I want to wind my arms around his neck and hold on so tight, I never let go. But instead, I tilt my head and brush the tip of my nose to his before pulling back to smile impishly up into his eyes. “Exactly like that.”

This time it’s not Reven’s sudden stilling and the way his eyes go flat that tells me my control slipped. Before I often haven’t even realized, but now…I feel it at least two heartbeats before his reaction.

I feel it in the cold that slides through my blood.

In the tug on me that comes from outside my body. Eidolon is here. With us.

A Shadow rustles. “Here comes the king.”

Holding myself as still as I can, I stare at Reven with wide eyes. “I think…I think strong emotions open the door for him,” I whisper.

My meaning sinks in and regret darkens his eyes, and we both know what that means.

Jamming my eyes closed, I ruthlessly stuff all my feelings, and that Shadow, back into the box of numb I used before meeting Scoria. She was wrong. Numb is the only way to keep control, to keep Eidolon out. The cold vanishes, so I know I’m right.

When I open my eyes it’s to find Reven looking at me with a sad sort of resignation. Could he see what I was doing? Could he feel me have to cut myself off from feeling anything, and especially from him?

I’m pretty sure he and I are doomed.

“It’s okay,” I say in a voice so devoid of emotion he flinches. “I shut him out.”

“Really,” Reven mutters, searching my face. “Meren—”

I step back when he steps forward and he stops.

My feet are way safer to look at than his face, so I drop my gaze. “You should go.”