“They would cherish you more than they worship him. Is that why you do not show them your heart?”
She rolls her lips. “Love is an illusion. Those who cherish monarchs are the first to light the torches and throw them on the pyre. I do not need love from others, as Galen does.”
Bite your tongue.
It’s harder and harder to do. This thing between Selene and me started as a caterpillar, wiggling and crawling. Less than a week later, we have cocooned ourselves in order to remain safe. We try not to feel.
Deep down, I long to taste her lips, to kiss her whole body, to watch her fly as I set her free.
This cocoon we have built is cracking.
Will a butterfly emerge? If so, how long will it soar? Will it feel the air under its wings, or will someone else, like Galen, crush it?
She is married to the king! But… if she is my mate, that changes everything. It happens more often than expected. Bonds form, sealed in magic, unable to be broken. Mating bonds take precedence over marriage contracts. Galen would not be the first king to lose his queen to her mate.
Crossing my legs, I sit and face her. “What do you need?”
She looks at me. Long. Is it a silent answer?
“The truth is,” she swallows, “I fear I will only find out when I release my last breath. Everett knew, that’s why we’re both on this path together.”
She’s changing subjects.
Frustrated, I cast my eyes forward and scan her training field. It’s ideal for keeping her hidden. Tucked down in the middle of a valley shielded by towering rose bushes. A manicured cage.
If it weren’t trapping her, I’d be in awe of the magic. Instead, I contemplate the amount of fire required to destroy it.
I could do it. I’d burn through my first supply, needing a second dose of human blood to fuel me up again. Drinking blood back to back after magic has been depleted is safe; there is no risk of bloodlust.
With an annoyed sigh, Selene closes her eyes. “It’s clear you want to chit-chat, so do it, Titus.” Her walls are back up.
“How do you think everything is going?” I ask.
How do you remain strong, neglecting the heat within us that ignites when our eyes connect?
“Don’t tell me you’re the type of man that needs to be praised and worshiped.” She flicks her long hair off her shoulder.
“I’m not.” I smirk, but it deflates like a cake pulled too early from the oven.The words fly out before I can stop them. “Your walls are so hardened, I fear no amount of screams or hushed whispers can penetrate you, Selene. I lay awake at night, formulating the correct way to arrange my words for you, because every time I ask you something, you act like I’m stealing the crown from your head.” I flash my fangs. “Why is it so hard for you to speak to me like we’re friends?”
She looks away as if I had slapped her. “Friends are uncovered enemies, Titus,” she mutters.
Closing my eyes, I massage my forehead, hoping I can push out the throbbing pressure.
“If you are sick, then it’s best to vomit it all out, Titus. Say what else needs to be said so we can move on.”
She’s fighting, denying the potential of this bond.
Does she expect me to shut up and surrender?
Here is more of my heart. Look at it! See what’s inside me before you stab it!
“I have these thoughts in my head.” I tap my temple, shaking them free.
“You should keep them there,” she rebuttals, looking my way again.
“There is not a cage large enough to hold them, Selene. If your walls were visible, I’d tear them down. I’d force you to be free.”
“Free or with you?”
