“The storm?—”
“Tarek.” She said his name softly, but it stopped him mid-sentence. “Come sit down.”
He knew he should refuse. He should retreat to his narrow cot in the storage room and lock the door behind him. He should put as much distance as possible between himself and this woman who made him feel things he’d thought long dead.
Instead, he crossed to the chair and sat.
She moved immediately, fluid and sure. Before he could react—before he could stop her—she settled herself in his lap, her knees bracketing his hips and her hands braced on his shoulders.
“What are you?—”
“Talk to me.”
The words were simple. The position was anything but. Every nerve in his body sparked to life, acutely aware of every point of contact, the way her thighs pressed against his, the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her borrowed clothes, and the way her weight settled against him like she belonged there.
“This is not?—”
“Talking.” She cut him off firmly. “That’s all I’m asking for. Last night you ran. The night before that, you ran. I’m not letting you run anymore.”
His hands had found her waist without his permission, feeling the curve of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing.
“I’m not running.”
“You’re not talking either.”
Fair. More than fair. He’d promised himself as he watched the lightning crack the sky that morning that he would give her something. A piece of himself. A small act of trust.
Start with the truth,his beast urged.As much as you can bear.
“I told you,” he said slowly, “that names have power.”
“You did.”
“That is why I don’t use the name I was born with. The name that—” He stopped. Tried again. “When I left my world, I left everything behind. The title. The position. The expectations. All of it.”
“What position?”
“Does it matter? It’s gone now. I am only what you see before you—an exile. A guardian of nothing. A male who lives alone on a mountain because he has nowhere else to go.”
Her fingers gently traced the line of his jaw.
“Why exile? What did you do?”
I showed mercy when I should have been ruthless. I healed when I should have harmed. I chose what was right over what was required, and they called it treason.
“I committed a great wrong.” The words tasted bitter. “According to those who judged me, at least. This—” He gestured vaguely at the den, the mountain, the storm raging outside. “This is my penance.”
“Penance for what?”
“For being what I am instead of what they wanted me to be.”
Her hands framed his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. In their depths he saw fierce determination with something softer underneath.
“I don’t believe it.”
“Jessa—”
“I don’t believe you committed some great wrong. I’ve seen you, Tarek. I’ve watched you with Dani. I see the way you care for her. You build her toys and make her food and cover her with blankets when she kicks them off in her sleep. I’ve seen the life you’ve built here, the beauty you create, and the gentleness you try so hard to hide.” Her voice shook with her intensity. “Whatever they accused you of, whatever they punished you for—I don’t believe it deserved this. I don’t believe you deserve this.”
