Just us.
Two confused souls thrown together time after time because of fate.
He’s talking about being able to sense my emotions, so I ask the appropriate question in response, to keep him talking and distracted, while my mine drifts.
Only returned—albeit momentarily—by the brush of his fingers against the place he bit. A moan travels up my throat, and my head falls to the side, craving more of his touch. For him to stroke my neck and then take me in all the ways he’s promising.
He’s controlling you.
I jerk away, my heart rate speeding so fast my chest stings.
Kill him. Become stronger.
My hands dive into my hair, pressing against my temples, waiting for the magick to shut up.
“No, I’m sorry, but no. Thank you, for explaining all that…but no. It doesn’t change anything.”
Feelings don’t work like that, especially not now. Being chained to this man—to anyone, really—is the last thing my life needs, no matter how much I’ve enjoyed our time together. He’s funny, and kind when he wants to be, and sexier than anyone else, and makes me feel, maybe just maybe, that four-letter emotion hidden beneath a shattered heart.
His fingers brush my elbow. “Carina, it’s real.”
“None of it matters. You bonded with me to save me—and you have. Not because you feel anything. Regardless”— my head shakes—“I need to go home. Tomyhome. I need to get away from you and from everyone and just be alone. I’m not good anymore, Ryder. The Darkness… It’s in control and I’m not.”
Alone, alone, alone.
Mom—to tell her what happened.
Jasper—to give him the leather bracelet in my pocket.
And then to be alone until Darkness lets me take control again. Mom will be able to help with spells and meditation and circle ceremonies; she’ll help me retain control.
I need to go home and get away from Ryder and his people.
“What does that mean?” Steps thunder behind me, his presence chipping away at every brick laid today. “Carina…kamahki.”
That name again. Whatever it means, it’s one of adoration. His tone has only ever been affectionate.
“It means you can’t be near me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Hurt?” A hand grasps my hip and nudges me to face him. No matter how much I hide, I can’t—not from him. Not now where we’re so open.
Home.
I need to go home.
A finger pushes my chin up, silver meeting purple. “You could never hurt me. Not like that.”
Kill.
My eyes tighten. A thumb brushes the corner.
“You’re crying.”
Am I?
“Open your eyes.”
No.
