Текст книги "Fable of happiness book two"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Lust twisted with trust, granting an intoxicating, bone-deep knowledge that I could be true with her.

I could talk to her, and she wouldn’t run.

I could share what I’d done and how I’d been treated, and she wouldn’t look at me as if I was dirty or broken.

It would be a gift.

A curse.

A brand new experience that would probably break me.

“I...I don’t know what to say.” I shrugged, drawn to her body, her eyes, her goodness. For the first time in my life, I wanted to try out honesty. I didn’t want to filter, choosing what to say in order to protect the family I’d chosen to guard. I wanted to speak from my heart even though it fucking terrified me.

“You don’t have to say a thing.” She inched closer until our feet touched and heat ignited hotter between us. “Do you want me to let you go?” Her fingers curled around the chain, tugging on my waist.

Did I?

Yes.

No.

Christ, I don’t know.

“What do you want, Kas?” she whispered. “You’re scaring me, and not in the usual way. You’re impossibly still, yet I know your mind is racing. I see it in your eyes. In the way you clench your jaw and brace your shoulders. You’re fighting something, and I don’t know how to help you.”

I sucked in a heavy breath. “Would you? Help me? If you knew what I’m struggling with? Even after everything?”

She nodded instantly, her hair dancing in the sunlight. “Always.”

Her answer rolled my shoulders with yet another layer of unfathomable emotion.

I didn’t deserve this woman.

Not even a scrap of her.

Whatever had happened last night might always be erased from me, but somehow, we were no longer strangers, no longer enemies.

She had the power to become my fucking everything.

I would fight to the death for her. I would take any beating. I would put myself between her and every monster imaginable.

I would give her everything, and wasn’t that the crux of my problem?

She. Was. Mine.

But in return, that meant I was hers.

Heart, body, and fucked-up soul.

And if I admitted to that, it would be my Fable family all over again.

I would give up my life to keep her safe, even if that meant keeping her safe from me. I would do whatever was necessary to make her happy, and the key to her happiness was to release her.

To let her go home.

Where I wouldn’t be able to watch over her—wouldn’t be able to protect her from men like Storymaker. My gut churned with acid at the thought of Storymaker ever getting his hands on Gemma. Of guests making her scream.

Fuck.

My muscles locked with fury.

“Hey...” Her hand landed on my chest, her fingers pressing against my thundering heart. “It’s okay.” Her hazel gaze glittered with worry, ringed with gold and green, a wisdom that made me feel unworthy and adrift.

I felt so goddamn lost all the time.

I needed an anchor. I wanted her to be that anchor.

But even now, I felt the looseness in my thoughts. The haze of white just waiting for me to snap into forgetfulness.

She swayed closer, her nipples hard beneath her dress. “Do you want me to let you go?” she asked again, her fingers flexing on the chain she still held, keeping me trapped.

I looked down at her hands, one on my chest and one on the remnants of Parable, and I saw a fork in my future.

The chain had all the power to suck me back and keep me imprisoned. I could continue to be a toy for the ghosts inside this mansion and fight demons that would never die.

Or...or I could choose her.

I could finally admit that even though it would drive me insane in a different way, I wanted to be worthy of this girl.

Her.

I want her.

My stomach clenched as she sucked in a breath, sensing I’d reached a decision. The world fell away as I reached out and cupped her breast, running my thumb over her nipple.

She twitched as a noiseless moan escaped her.

I looked up.

I studied this girl who’d trespassed and made my life a living hell, and suddenly, it was all too much. Drawing my hand from her breast, over her throat, to her cheek, I pressed my palm against her softness.

Her eyes snapped closed as her entire body shivered. “You don’t have to hold yourself back with me,” she breathed. “I know...I know you want me.”

Dragging my thumb over her bottom lip, I forced words through a tight and gravelly throat. “But do you...want me?”

Her eyes flared, more gold than green, vibrant with lust. “If you are aware of who I am and where we are, then yes.” Her tongue touched my thumb with a sensuous lick. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, even while I fought you.”

Pulling her to me, I smashed my mouth to hers.

She gasped in shock as I broke the seal of her lips, driving my tongue deep.

I wasn’t slow.

I wasn’t gentle.

I was hungry.

Fucking starving for things yesterday had given me, and today had wiped clean. I was jealous of myself. Furious that I’d had this girl, I’d come in her, we’d shared things I’d always craved, yet it was as if it never happened.

“You’re mine.” I kissed her rough and mean.

Chain or no chain, she would always be mine.

If I couldn’t remember, then I’d have to take her all over again. And again. I’d have to fuck her until I knew nothing else but her.

Wrapping my arms around her, I hauled her against my body, kissing her so damn deep. She wriggled, fighting for space, for air. Her hands landed on my chest.

I waited for her to push me away. To reveal she hadn’t wanted me, after all.

Instead, she tried to climb me.

A trigger had erupted in her too, sending her over the edge where I’d already fallen. “Kas. Yes—” Her head tipped left and right, her lips skating over mine, her tongue twisting deep as I kissed her. “Harder. Please? You can touch me as hard as you need.”

Harder?

That word wormed into my skull and obliterated everything else.

My arms bunched, locking her to me, holding her painfully tight as my hips thrust against hers. Our kiss turned manic. I kissed her with no mercy, taking advantage of her open, hungry mouth, capturing her tongue, her taste, and claiming every dark, wet piece of her.

She plastered herself against me, placing herself entirely into my control as our bodies writhed together. I shoved my thigh between her legs, pushing up her dress. She rode me. Her hand flew down and found my erection, stroking me through my jeans.

The kiss evolved from desperate to savage in one second flat.

All the pent-up fury, the forgetfulness, the ferocity gushed out of me, smashing like a tidal wave from my messed-up heart to hers.

Her left hand wrapped behind my neck, pulling me into her. Her right stroked harder, faster.

I needed inside her.

Now.

Grabbing handfuls of her ass, I yanked up and in. Her hand fell away as I ground my aching erection against her pussy, her dress spreading with her thighs.

She gasped.

I kissed her deeper.

She squirmed.

I thrust against her.

I consumed her body and soul. She kissed me as if she wasn’t just participating but imprinting me, making sure this moment couldn’t be stolen from her. Doing her best to make me remember. Hurting me all over again.

I’d done things to this woman. I’d promised things I couldn’t remember. I’d given her pieces of myself, and then I’d taken them away again.

I had the shitty existence of not knowing what those things were, but Gemma...she had it harder because she’d thought I was cured.

That she’d cured me.

Fuck, if only it was that easy.

“Kas—” Her legs hooked over my hips, grinding her core against my pulsing cock. “I need you inside me. Please.”

She set fire to every inch of my idiotic heart and greedy soul.

I wanted to be free with her. I wanted to indulge in things and take everything she had to offer, but most of all, I wanted to fucking remember those things after we’d finished.

Ripping my mouth from hers, I panted, “Make me a promise, Gemma Ashford.” Her head snapped up, lust-fogged eyes struggling to concentrate on mine. I kept her cradled in my arms even though my broken arm burned and my cock was seconds away from exploding. I had to make her vow. “Right here, right now, make me a promise.”

She swallowed, her lips swollen and face etched with need. “Anything.”

I bent and kissed her. Softly. Maddingly gentle. “Remind me.”

She sucked in a breath. “Of what?”

“Of everything.” I pulled her closer, my hips still rocking into hers. “Whatever I forget, remember for me. If I ask, tell me. If I don’t, understand it’s not because I’m running from knowing but because I’m not strong enough. I-I don’t know how long these symptoms will last. That damn book said it could take years...” My jaw clenched with denial, but I forced myself to finish. “I don’t expect you to record every little thing, but please...” I rocked against her heat, her incredible body. “Remember the important bits. Remind me to keep trying, even if it seems like I’m failing. Tell me how I treat you, how I speak to you—teach me to be the man you deserve, and I’ll do it. Help me to be better.”

She flinched, her eyes mirroring the sorrow that consumed me. She took a moment to reply, tears welling, making all the spaces inside me fill with haunted, harrowed things. Finally, she said firmly, almost coldly. “I promise.”

I kissed her.

She grabbed handfuls of my hair, holding on as my tongue dived deep and our kiss turned sharp and primitive. Both of us sealing the promise. Doing our best to convince ourselves that it would work.

It would keep me with her.

It would make me better.

“Take me, Kas,” Gemma moaned, our heads dancing, our tongues tangling, our breathing matching in haggard rhythm.

I stumbled to the side, my body rock fucking hard and no longer willing to tolerate not being inside her. Spinning around, I marched her to the wall.

Pre-cum rippled up my cock at the thought of taking her.

Urgency made me jerky and mean.

This would be quick and vicious. Whatever softness I might or might not have given last night was gone. Today, I was nothing but brutality.

She wanted it hard.

So did I.

I wanted bruises.

I wanted marks.

I wanted my body to be covered in mementos of what happened here so I would remember.

I will.

She cried out as her spine hit the wall. Ivy leaves scattered around us, landing in her hair as we crashed against the vines. I waited for her to tell me to stop even as my hands grabbed the hem of her dress, ripping it up her legs to bunch it at her waist.

I looked down.

Naked.

No underwear.

No obstruction.

Fucking hell, this woman.

She’d be the death of me.

Not the bastards who’d bought me. Not the guests who’d broken me.

Her.

This girl who found me, wanted me, and promised me she’d stay.

I choked as another wash of savagery ignited. I ripped at my shorts, fumbling with the zipper.

My cock sprung free.

Her hand latched immediately around my length.

My head fell back as I let out a guttural groan. “Goddammit, Gemma.”

“Do you like that?” She buried her face in my neck, her teeth scraping on my throat.

I couldn’t speak.

My mind swam. The garden flickered. All that mattered was her touch, pumping me up and down. I shoved her harder against the wall. I grabbed her chin and plunged my tongue into her mouth.

In return, she fisted me, stroked me, dug her thumb into my crown, and smeared wetness down the hypersensitive veins underneath.

We matched.

Violence to violence.

Lust to lust.

My vision spluttered as I fucked her hand.

My breathing turned shallow, and my entire body became twitchy and desperate. An orgasm built in my belly.

I had to be inside her.

Pushing her hand away, I shoved her higher. Once her hips aligned with mine, I pinned her against the ivy again and fell on her.

My hips surged forward, my cock stabbing the wall, her thigh, everything but her pussy.

“Jesus Christ.” I reached down and went to fist myself, needing to guide my desperation to her entrance.

But I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t touch my own body, and how goddamn pathetic was that?

But she knew.

She reached between us, grabbing me again and lining us up without a word.

I think I fell in love with her for that.

I think I gave over my entire being for the simple acknowledgment of my flaws, acceptance of my faults, and her absolute kindness instead of judgment.

Leaving the head of my cock on the precipice of impaling her, she reached up and locked both hands on my shoulders.

Our eyes met.

They met, and they held, and I wanted her with a gut-shredding pain.

I pushed into her wetness...slowly, agonizingly.

Her mouth fell wide.

I stopped halfway in, tormenting both of us.

Her groan matched mine.

We shivered and trembled.

We were wrapped up and suffocating in the final second while we remained two people. I couldn’t breathe as our eyes never unlocked. I felt as if I belonged and was lost and that nothing else existed all at the same confusing time.

She was mine.

Yet it felt as if I’d never be able to keep her.

Anger poured through me, shattering my self-control.

“You want it hard? Take it.” I plunged into her.

I drove my entire length into her in one deep, deep thrust and didn’t stop until she took everything. Every inch, right to the hilt. “Take all of me.”

Heaven and home, hades and hell.

The walls inside my mind crumbled, the chains around my thoughts unraveled, and I was left free. Free-falling into her, caught by her body, wrapped tight by her pussy, shielded from all the shit in my life thanks to her.

I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad.

But I couldn’t stop looking at her.

Our stares had mated as well as our bodies, binding us together as I pulled back and surged forward, burying myself inside her, again and again.

She smiled with a tinge of sadness. Her fingers reached up to tuck long hair behind my ears. She bounced in my arms as I fucked her.

She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. The only person I ever wanted. The missing pieces of so many holes inside me. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to share and confess and get on my knees with oaths that she was it for me.

She’s mine.

And as long as I had her, I’d be okay.

As long as she was safe, I—

Whiteness.

Nothingness.

Everything went blank.

I was lost in silence while bleach dripped through my mind. The whiteness turned to chalk, dusting me with despair.

I-I—

I tripped back.

I didn’t know where I was. What I’d been doing. I couldn’t see a damn thing.

Something nudged me, upsetting my balance.

I landed on something hard, biting my tongue as the whiteness slowly faded, followed by the oversaturation of light, sound, and smell.

“Kas...Kas. You’re okay.” Hands in my hair. A woman kneeling before me. “Don’t fight it. You’re fine.”

Who...who—

I frowned, trying to work out who—

Gemma!

Ah, fuck, Gem.

I scooted backward, breaking her hold on me and shoving my broken arm up. “Don’t...don’t touch me. I might hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she snapped, full of conviction and power. “It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a blackout. You had them yesterday. You said they were nothing, but this one...” She sniffed, and her voice cracked. “You weren’t there.” She rubbed her nose, sitting back against the mansion’s wall. “You were gone. Your body was inside me, Kas, yet your mind...I couldn’t reach you.”

I scrambled farther away, glancing at her body. Her peach-tone dress covered her legs, her hair held ivy leaves, but there was no evidence I’d been inside—

She held up her hand, pointing at my crotch. “Before you argue that sex didn’t happen, look at yourself.”

I followed her finger, and my teeth snapped together. My shorts bit into my thighs, and wetness covered my very erect cock. Wetness from her. Wetness that said she’d wanted me as much as I’d wanted her.

Instantly, desire shot through me. The hiss in my balls for a release. The tingle down my spine to finish.

I shifted to touch her. To fill her again.

But I shied back.

No.

No way could I finish.

What if I blacked out again? What if I hurt her and didn’t even know?

Christ, what is happening to me?

Shaking my head, I forced myself to go back a few minutes, trying to learn what triggered me. Slowly, pieces returned. Pieces of promises, thrusts, and souvenirs of rough sex against an ivy-vined wall.

And I froze.

Because the obviousness of it was too big to ignore.

My walls had fallen the moment I’d sunk inside her. The trip wires and safety measures I’d installed after my memories came back after five years of nothing were decimated.

She’d done that.

She was so good, so perfect, that every part of me relaxed in her company. Even my mind relaxed, giving her everything.

Never.

I could never afford to do that.

Those walls were there for a reason.

“I...I have to go.” I staggered to my feet. My fingers fumbled with my zipper as I pulled up my shorts, wincing as my cock argued about being confined and denied.

Lust still hummed in my blood. I wanted her with every fiber of my being. But I wanted to keep her safe more.

Gemma stood too, watching me carefully. “You said that last night, and I let you go. I’ve regretted it ever since.” Stepping toward me, she whispered, “Wherever you go, I go. I’m not letting you out of my sight today.”

“That’s not a good idea.” I swallowed hard. “I...I need some time to—”

“Firewood!” she blurted. “Let’s go collect firewood.” Giving me a wobbly smile, she added, “Let’s stick to the original plan, okay? No thinking. No worrying. Whatever just happened, let’s forget it. Let’s just stay busy...together.”

I looked past her to the house.

To the thought of hiding in an empty dorm, in an empty valley, with an empty heart.

Alone.

Loneliness was my prison—a place where I understood the parameters. I could control it, even if I couldn’t get free from it. But I couldn’t do that around her. She threatened all my foundations and all my barriers.

But her offer spoke to the darkness inside me. The part of me that was sick to fucking death of being alone. It wanted her. It wanted to be with her, in every capacity, all the damn time. I didn’t even have to be inside her. I just wanted to be near her. And what sort of curse was that? To find peace with the one person who was killing me?

A cloud skidded over the sun, casting us in shadow, taking away the heat in the sky and reminding me, all over again, that the chill in the air was because autumn had arrived and winter wasn’t far behind.

Our chores couldn’t wait.

I could continue having my mental breakdown while working.

“Just...promise to keep a safe distance. Don’t get too close to me.” I turned my back on her and moved toward the treeline.

She didn’t reply, and I didn’t stop.

We no longer had a chain locking us together, but she’d follow.

I knew she would.

We were joined in so many ways these days, so many disastrous, dangerous ways.

Sure enough, the soft patter of her feet chased me all the way into the trees.

Into my madness.

Into a hell I couldn’t get free from.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

STRANGE HOW LONELINESS COULD creep from nowhere.

It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to sleeping alone at night. I’d lived alone ever since I moved out of my mother’s place. Most of the time, I liked the independence. I enjoyed never having to ask a partner’s permission to jump out of bed at midnight and go hunt a boulder. I didn’t have to bother with a boyfriend’s hurt feelings, trying to explain how I’d rather spend the weekend climbing a lump of granite than spend it with him. I’d even decided against roommates as I wanted the freedom to do my video editing until dawn without disturbing anyone.

Yet...here I am.

In a house shared with a man I’m in love with, and I’m lonelier than I’ve ever been.

Sighing, I stared at the dark sky with its wispy silver clouds hiding the moon and stars, grateful that the conservatory roof kept the chill at bay. I doubted it was much warmer inside than out, seeing as no heating had been turned on, but it still gave me comfort to know I was in a house and not exposed to the elements that could turn so quickly.

I didn’t know what the time was, but I guessed it was close to one in the morning.

I ought to be fast asleep. After the stress of sex with Kas in the garden, the panic of his memory loss, and the never-ending lugging of firewood, every part of me was exhausted.

I could barely feel my fingers after they’d been used to grab, carry, and stack rows upon rows of kindling and logs. We’d barely made a dent in the quantity required for a full season of snow. It would take days of solid labor to gather what was needed. I thought I was fit and strong. However, it turned out that lugging wood was an entirely different workout from climbing.

It hadn’t helped that Kas didn’t pay any attention to me. He flat-out ignored me when I reminded him not to do so much with his broken arm. He barely grunted at me as we hunted through the forest for fallen branches, dragging longer ones back to hack with the ax and gathering armfuls of smaller ones, perfect for starting a flame.

Once the sun sank out of the sky, and it grew too dark to see in the forest, he grudgingly called it a day. We walked side by side, silent and highly aware of each other as we washed our hands, stood awkwardly in the kitchen, and tried to decide what to do next.

Kas had looked as if he’d pass out on the spot. His skin had an unnatural grayness, his eyes were bracketed with pain, and he breathed heavily even though we were no longer bending and stacking firewood.

I’d offered to cook. I’d braced myself for permission to harvest a few veggies to make something decent to fill our empty stomachs. His eyes had narrowed, hinting he might have forgotten about our bath, but he hadn’t forgotten my lack of rationing or respect when it came to survival.

He’d stormed outside without a word.

He’d returned with a few carrots, a couple of potatoes, and grabbed half the cabbage that was left in the fridge.

I’d kept him company while he sliced the produce, grabbed a big pot, and placed all of it on the stove. The entire time he’d cooked, I’d stood quietly beside him. I couldn’t stop watching how capable he was, how familiar with the chore of feeding himself.

It didn’t matter that he was so capable at cooking because he didn’t have a choice. He’d wanted to survive. Therefore, he’d had to learn how. He’d had no one else. No help gathering firewood, no help cleaning this giant place, no one to turn to at night when his dreams wrenched him awake with torment.

Hadn’t I wanted a man who didn’t rely on a woman to keep him alive? A man who wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary?

I’d shivered with desire as his strong hands wielded knives and dishes. I’d sunk into a strange kind of awe, my chest swelling with a total sense of domestic contentedness.

Kassen Sands was literally everything I’d written on that internet dating profile. He was rugged and masculine but was also skilled at making a life out of nothing and no one. He was aggressive and possessive, but beneath the tangled vines of his past, he was caring and kind.

I had no doubt, if he could open himself up to me, without his nightmares and concussion snatching him back, he would be loving, protective, and sweet.

Yes, sweet.

One hundred percent, he’d be the sweetest, kindest man I’d ever met.

I’d almost swooned in the kitchen while he was completely unaware of my further tripping into feelings. I’d itched with an almost manic desperation to make him see me. To help break him free and talk because if I could—if I could show him how to be happy—he would be my best friend, life partner, and soul mate.

And that’d hurt.

Watching him cook with his jaw clenched as if to stop himself from talking to me and his body language stiff and threatening, I’d made a promise not to push. Not to ask the many, many questions I had. Not to rattle off about my own life, wanting him to know me in return.

I’d let silence cushion the strained connection between us as he tipped water into the well-cooked veggies and smashed it all together, forming a hearty soup, working as fast as he could in case the power went out.

When he’d handed me a bowl full of delicious, comforting food, I’d wanted to throw my arms around him. To kiss him. To show him just how grateful I was, regardless of how agonizing it’d been in the garden. How much my body still wanted his, an orgasm still unfinished, my skin humming to connect again.

Having the man I was in love with suddenly vanish right before my eyes was a gut-wrenching experience. His cock still inside me, his arms still holding me close, yet nothing in his stare. No recognition. No emotion. Just emptiness, followed by him staggering away from me, dropping me to my feet, and our bodies being torn apart, all thanks to his splintered mind.

Giving me a small smile, Kas had led me out of the kitchen to the dining room.

It’d felt strange eating at the large table still set for a party of monsters. The polished knives and forks glinted, placemats with their leather and ribbon were pristine.

There’d been no salt or pepper, no butter or other condiments to increase the flavor of the basic soup he’d made, but it’d been the best meal I’d had since arriving here. Mainly because Kas ate with me, silent and wary, but at least he stayed by my side.

Eating our meal in the extravagant dining room had allowed my mind to run wild with ghosts of the past. I studied the empty walls where mirrors used to sit, ready to refract the light cast by a few bulbs that hadn’t burned out in the chandelier above the table. Light bounced off the crystal bumblebee napkin holders, and the scent of bygone dinners seemed to swirl around us.

It truly was a decadent mansion; if only it hadn’t kept children trapped and allowed such sick monstrosities to take place.

Kas finished his dinner before me. He’d swooped to his feet, bowed stiffly, and spoke more words than he had all day. “Thank you for your help...with the wood.” He raked a hand through his unruly, long hair, keeping his eyes anywhere but on mine. I hated that he’d pulled away again. I wanted to go back to the garden where something had built inside him. Something had unfurled between us. A decision had been made in his heart.

The sex between us had been wild and real. I’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted me. I’d been prepared to give him everything, but then his mind had gone and ruined what could’ve been. Again.

I pushed my empty bowl away and smiled up at him, weary from physical labor but also drained from emotional trauma. “You’re welcome.” It took so much control not to grab his wrists and force him to stay with me. To tell him how I felt, what I would do for him, that he only had to drop his guard and we could be together.

But I held my tongue because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, having him switch from kissing me with passion, thrusting into me with need, to a man who didn’t see me, hear me, feel me, had reminded me that for all my daydreaming of domestication and futures, he was still unsafe.

I still risked my life living with him.

I still hadn’t freed him from his past.

Inhaling heavily, he’d looked around the room as if something would give him whatever answers he was looking for. Goosebumps had spread down my back, wondering if he’d been thinking of us just as I had. Had he come to the conclusion that I was trustworthy? That I was strong enough? Was he ready to talk to me? Could we possibly spend the evening together like any other couple, cuddled by a fire, enjoying each other’s company, before slipping into bed together?

Even as such fantasies filled my head, his gaze landed on mine and shot them dead. He flinched, unable to hide the anguish inside him, the confliction, the toppling mess of his psyche. “You’re...you’re no longer chained to me.”

I glanced down at the chain I’d wrapped around my ankle, a link-snake that formed a chunky anklet. My head tipped up as I glanced at his waist where I knew the other half of our broken chain remained locked around him, the small length tucked in his back pocket. “No, I’m not.”

He stiffened. “Will you leave? Tonight?”

My back straightened into steel. “You honestly have to ask that question?”

He shrugged, dropping his stare again. His usual guarded personality had dimmed. I didn’t know if it was from the firewood chores draining him of whatever health he’d regained or if whatever had happened between us in the gardens was worse than I realized. Either way, he was...subdued.

Quiet.

It made me afraid.

Standing, I reached for him. “Kas...please. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He stepped out of my reach. “You should leave. While the weather still holds.”

I reared back, pain slapping into my heart as real as if his palm had just struck my cheek. “It wasn’t the chain keeping me here. We both know that. I thought we’d both realized I stopped looking for a way to get free a while ago.”

He sniffed, his scruff soaking up the meager light, his shadowed eyes darker and complex. “All the same, if you leave in the night, I’ll-I’ll understand.” He cleared his throat. “Whatever promises you made me, consider them broken.”

“Are you talking about the promise I made to help you prepare for winter or the one where I promised to remember what you forget?”

His nostrils flared as he backed toward the door. “Both. You’re released from both.”

My hands balled into fists. “And if I don’t want to be released? If I want to stay here and help you? If I’m prepared to stay during the winter? If I’m ready to jot down everything that we do and keep a diary on every interaction we share, what then?”

“Then I’d say you sound as if you need a new hobby. You should go home. Back to the family you keep saying is missing you.”

It took a few seconds to get my temper under control. I inhaled and exhaled, schooling my tone into something that wouldn’t end in a fight. “I made the choice to stay, Kas. In the bath, I told you I chose you over my brother.”

His eyes flared, followed by a bolt of hunger and pure concentrated need.

My body reacted to his.

The air positively sparked as if candles sprung to life between us.

But then he shut it all down again.

He shook his head as if he couldn’t bear the thought that I’d put him first. As if he wasn’t used to such a thing. As if he felt guilty that he’d become so, so important to me.

“Don’t,” he whispered, taking another step toward the door. “Don’t put me first.”