“I hate that my size scares you.”
“I’m not scared of you!” The words snap out of me, and I blink. True words. Falsehoods are hard to speak. These came easily.
“You have every reason to be,” Jack says softly.
I whirl to face him. “I do not need your useless pity! You can keep your disgust. I am not a weak thing to be scorned!”
Jack swallows audibly. “I know you aren’t weak, Dyfri. Heck, right now your eyes are glowing red, and I’m pretty sure you could click your fingers and explode my brain or something.”
I blink. I need to calm down. Regain control. Emotional outbursts never achieve anything. They are useless and pointless and a sign of a lack of discipline.
I can taste Jack’s fear. Sharp and acrid on my tongue. My rage has scared him. It should be pleasing, satisfying, but for some reason I hate it. I don’t want Jack to fear me. I want him to like me.
“I’m so sorry, Dyfri. When Mabon said that… and I remembered the way you looked at me when we first met, it broke my heart. I hate that I remind you of that monster.”
I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing deeply. “You recoiled in disgust from my touch because you didn’t want to scare me?”
Jack lets out a heavy exhale. I hear him run his hand through his stupid hair. “You snuck off back to the fey court without telling me and then you brushed me off when I asked where you had gone.” He sighs again. “I hate you going back there. I worry about you. And I hate that you don’t trust me when I thought you did. And then with the stuff Mabon told me…” He’s silent for a moment. “It was a lot and I handled it like a right prick. I’m so sorry, Dyfri.”
I open my eyes. He is staring at me with his stupid puppy-dog expression.
I take one last breath and then plaster a sad smile on my face. I’m mortified and ashamed of the things he now knows about me. The first days of our marriage, when hedidn’t even know what a rhocyn was, let alone that I was one, seem like a distant dream. The knowledge of how he must now view me, is crushing and abhorrent. Strong enough to extinguish my last stubborn flickering flame of hope. He sees me as a broken, repulsive thing now, and it is too much to bear.
Nevertheless, I cannot allow ridiculous emotions to destroy everything I am planning. The fate of my people, the fate of worlds, relies on my not acting like a child. I must swallow this hurt and move on.
My plans require Jack. I need Jack to want to work with me. I need him to like me.
“I may have overreacted,” I say.
The spark of hope that ignites in Jack’s eyes cuts deeply. I ignore the pain and walk back to the bed.
“I have never been good with rejection,” I confess.
Jack smiles ruefully. “Is anyone?”
“You worry about me going to court?” I slip back under the covers. My heart is doing a stupid fluttery thing, even though I don’t know for sure if Jack’s words are true. Humans can lie as easily as they breathe. And that makes far more sense than him actually caring about me.
“Of course I do. You’re my husband.”
“And that means something?” I reply, bringing up the ridiculous claim he makes.
My back is to him, but I still know he is smiling.
“Yeah, it does.” He says it so softly it tingles over my skin and makes me shiver.
He goes carefully still behind me. “Um… do you still need a hand?”
I jolt. Fuck. I do. And my reaction to his words gave it away.
Stupid fucking stubborn biology.
I take a deep breath, and roll over to face my husband. If our awful argument hasn’t deflated my cock, nothing will. Save for feeding it what it wants.
If he can bear to touch me, I’ll use it.
Jack’s eyes are still wide and dark, but now there is a gleam of desire. A spark of lust.
Something inside me wilts. As if my soul is withering. But sadly not my cock.
