“Deep breath,” he coaxed.
I did as he said, but felt unsteady.
“It will hurt to break the bond,” he explained as another ripple of pain passed through me. “Erik told me as much.”
I couldn’t keep the shock from my face. “You already asked?”
“It would have put your life in danger if anyone else found out. I would have broken it to keep you alive.”
“You make all these decisions without consulting me.”
“I make decisions because I know Elysia. You rejected the world I lived in. I’ve been trying to keep you safe.”
“That’s not how things work.”
“I am… sorry.” The word was difficult for him to use. Apologies were not something that came lightly from Gray. “I am sorry that I wasn’t honest with you. I’m sorry for my past and I am sorry that I have risked the best thing to happen to me in my entire existence.”
The lump grew in my throat again.
“I need some time to think about all of this,” I told him.
“Understandable. You have other priorities right now.” He stood from the sofa, pulling my attention up to him. “Your research and family need to come first. Focus on those, Quentin. There will be time for us to decide what to do after.”
Something about his words made my skin itch uncomfortably. Gray didn’t see himself as a priority in my life. I’d never conveyed him to be one, and before, I would have shrugged it off. But after what we’d been through and what I’d seen tonight, I hated the fact that was the impression he had.
“Get some rest, Quentin,” he said, and I stood from the sofa.
“Will you be here in the morning?” I asked, voice thick with emotion.
“I will never leave you.”
From the moment I met her, I’d wanted to crack into her skull and drink her thoughts. Dark and delicious. There wasn’t a waking moment where Quentin wasn’t thinking of something. There were times where people talked to her and she’d ask about something completely unrelated. It amused me to see how she continued to unravel her mind, even when she should be focused on the task at hand.
I stepped away from reading her thoughts as we grew closer. It was a choice I made to allow her some privacy and control. With her divinity no longer hidden, I had no choice, and it drove me insane.
The kitchen was deathly silent as she padded around the space. A thin tendril of my aura snaked past her and pulled a sleeve of coffee capsules from the top of the cupboard as she prepared to hoist herself onto the counter. She didn’t say thank you, and my aura brushed against her waist as I recalled it.
“What do you think of women?” she asked when her mug was full and the bitter scent of coffee hung in the air.
Where had that come from? Of all the questions I expected her to ask, my stance on women would have been at the bottom of the list. I was prepared for questions about last night and about my memories, but she was working on something else.
“Why are you asking me this?” I returned.
Quentin leaned back against the counter. She wore a pair of jeans and a hoodie that was two sizes too big and fell just above her knees. Comfort. She was seeking comfort in every form.
“When I first met you,” she said, staring down into the depths of her coffee, “you said you weren’t afraid to hurt women.”
I pushed myself out of the chair and strode over to her. Quentin’s head snapped up, watching me as I approached. Large brown eyes tracked each of my movements. My hands gripped the counter on either side of her, caging her into the small space. No fear resonated through our bond, nor panic, which left me even more confused. What was she trying to understand? Did she think I would kill her if it came down to it?
“If I dislike someone enough, I am destructive,” I told her truthfully. “Gender is never a question.”
“Would you hurt me?”
“No.”
“What if…” she trailed off and focused her gaze on my Adam’s apple. “What if I said I didn’t want to do this anymore?”
Her knees buckled and my hands went to her waist to keep her upright.
