“Indeed.”
My gaze locked with his again, and for several seconds, I allowed myself to get lost in the warmth so visible in those gloriously smoky depths. Heat stirred through them, heat and something else. Something undefinable and rare. Something that made my heart leap and my head mock its foolishness.
“Bethany,” he whispered, reaching out to me with one hand.
I stepped back, even though every inch of me wanted to do the opposite. His hand dropped, but his fingers were once again clenched.
“I need to know what the end game is here, Cynwrig, because I’m—”in serious danger of losing my heart, and I’m not sure I could stand the devastation that will inevitably happen when you have to choose a wife.
He didn’t immediately reply, and I had the oddest feeling he knew exactly what I was thinking. Perhaps he did; perhaps the bond that seemed to be forming between us—the bond that had allowed him to hear my “resonance” on the earth—also gave him deeper insights into my heart and my mind.
“Do you trust me?” he asked eventually.
“With my life. But this is not a matter of trust; it’s about expectations, and dreams, and I—” I took a deep breath and plowed on. “I don’t think I’m strong enoughemotionallyto continue this relationship. I want to, you have to know that, butin three months’ time, when you are forced to choose a wife… it will likely break me.”
“I willneverdo anything to break you, that I promise.”
“You can’tpossiblymake such a promise, Cynwrig, because you have no control over my heart, andithas proven time and again to be extremely foolish.”
“Sometimes foolishness is required if you intend to claim the greatest prize.”
“And sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you might wish otherwise, some things will always remain out of reach.”
He studied me for a few seconds, his face impassive. But his hands remained clenched and there was anger in his eyes. Whether it was aimed at me or the situation, I couldn’t say. Despite our connection, he was still better at reading me than I was him.
“The king,” he said eventually, “is not forced to choose a wife at the crowning ceremony.”
“No, because Geitha’s Tears chooses one for you.”
“Traditionally, yes, but no matter who the Tears or the goddess herself chooses, I am not duty bound to marry them.”
I couldn’t help the somewhat bitter laugh that escaped. “You would go against the wishes of your goddess to continue a relationship with a commoner like me?”
The anger flared brighter and echoed through the darkness around us. I had the strangest feeling its cause was my choice of words. “I never said that.”
“Then whatareyou saying?”
“I am doing nothing more than stating a fact—there will be no betrothal or indeed marriage unless I love the woman, and she loves me.”
“So, while you and the goddess’s chosen one set about discovering your emotional compatibility, you and I just maintain our sexual relationship?”
“What we have is far more than merely sexual.”
“And what does it matter if itis?” I cried. “It can never go anywhere, Cynwrig, because of who you are. You have to know that.”
His face became set. “What is common knowledge and whatIaccept are two different things.”
So his sister had said. I scrubbed a hand through my hair, not sure what to say, or do, next. I hadn’t intended to get into a fight with him. Far from it. But seeing him, being so close to him, not only had all the doubts that had crowded my mind before putting on the bracelet clawing their way back in, but emphasized the danger I was in.
Because if I stayed with him, if I continued a relationship with him, what was little more than a promising whisper right now would bloom into full-blown love.
And hewouldbreak my heart—breakme—sooner or later.
Did I dare risk that?
Dare I not?
For all I knew, the gods had set a very short time frame for their game, and I might not have any more than a few months left anyway. Shouldn’t I accept the inevitable heartbreak and make the most of the time left to me while I still had it?
