“Oh, because getting yanked out of my bed on my birthday and being tossed in a cage too small to stand up in wasn’t enough?” I reach for my wine, my hands trembling with anger. “My actual trauma didn’t qualify as a good enough lesson, so you decided to manufacture some more to make sure everything sank in for me? Got it.”
“Shit.Fuck.No. I don’t mean—” He freezes, tugging viciously at his hair. “I just told Ciprian to rattle you a bit. It felt like a good idea at the time.”
“Let me tell you something about fear, Callum.” I lower my voice. “It’s an addiction. If you give it room to grow, it will choke out every other emotion. I’ve lived a life where the only thing I felt for months at a time was fear. I became a flinching, terrified woman, ready to run at a moment’s notice. My fear was always justified, but I let it become my only reason to go on.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. I let it fall. I’ve got to get this out while I still can. I need to make him understand.
“That might have kept me alive for a long time, but something I’ve learned from Gideon—from you—is that a life of fear isn’t worth living.Youtaught me that fighting back was worth it.Yougave me something worth fighting for.” I stand up from the couch, kicking the blanket off my lap. “Today, during that vision, Ciprian didn’t just scare me, Callum, he took away one of my reasons to fight.”
Callum takes a step closer to me then, shaking his head in agitation as he moves fully into the light.
“I want you to fight for yourself. You told Sarah you were our liability. But, fuck, Sheena—don’t you see? Weare yours. By hunting those traffickers, we put a target on your back.”
“You’re giving yourself way too much credit here. I was a target long before I met either of you.” I jab my index finger into my own chest. “I’m some freak of nature with no control over my magic, no measurable fighting skills, and no knowledge of this world. I’m learning to live with the fact that I’m putting you both at risk just by existing.”
“We don’t care about that,” he insists.
“That’s easy for you to say.” I roll my eyes. “You aren’t the weak link.”
“I’m serious, sweetheart. All those things you think are weaknesses are fixable with training.”
He comes around the couch and reaches for me. I brace one hand against his chest and hold him at arm’s length. “Then teach me. But maybe clue me in on the goddamn lesson plan next time.”
“Okay. I promise,” Callum says.
He moves back into my space and takes my hand. I let him this time. It feels good to be close after that fight. Callum studies my hand for a moment, then his lips curl up at the corners.
“Why are you smiling at me like that?” I demand. Now that I understand his motivations, I'm less hurt, but I'm also not quite ready to let him off the hook.
“You really smacked my brother?” Callum grins fully, the expression sliding into devious territory.
Oh shit. I did slap Ciprian.I wince. In hindsight, maybe he didn’t deserve everything I hurled at him.
“I did,” I admit. “And if you’d been there, I probably would have slapped you too.”
Callum chuckles, then lifts my chin and kisses me. It’s a slow meeting of our lips, soft and sweet like an apology in physical form. When he pulls back, his face is pensive, the olive skin of his forehead furrowed in deep grooves.
“Seeing Gideon die... They say it made you fall apart.”
“Like a woman in a soap opera,” I whisper, shuddering as I remember the images. At the time, I felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. “I think people in the next town over heard me wailing.”
Callum kisses me again, wrapping his arms around me until all I can feel is his body against mine.
“Would you cry like that for me?”
Tucked into his chest, I feel the vulnerability in his question and know I can’t make light of it. Not this time. Even though he hurt me earlier, I summon up my courage to give him the truth.
“I’d fall down, and I don’t know if I’d ever get back up again.” My voice cracks, and his arms tighten around me. Callum may not have been kept in a physical cage like I was, but at his core, there’s still a little boy who needs to hear he’s enough.
“I’m sorry,” he groans.
It’s the first time since the start of this conversation he’s said those words to me outright, but the apology feels genuine.
“I forgive you,” I say. “Next time you’re scared, though, tell me. We’ll fight our fears together, yeah?”
He nods, burying his face in my neck. As we cling to each other, I don’t think of my past or our future.
This moment is enough.
