“Expect you to what?” he presses, stepping closer again, his tone suddenly rough, gravelly as he arches a brow. “To trust me? To believe that maybe this isn’t a mistake?”
“Yes!” The word bursts out of me before I can stop it, sharp and trembling. “Because it is a mistake. You rejected me, Thane. You made sure I’d never come back. You don’t get to hold me now like…like it means something.”
He flinches, the guilt plain in his eyes, but I can’t stand here any longer. My chest feels too tight, the air too heavy with things I don’t want to remember. Before he can stop me again, I turn and retreat into the hallway, clutching my wrist, the spot where he touched me still pulsing with that impossible warmth.
Behind me, I hear him exhale, but I numb out the sound of him breathing, just as I've been numbing everything out for the past five years.
It's the only way I can survive, especially if I can't run away from Thane.
Even when I did run away physically, I could never escape him. That's why it's easier to hate Thane Savage.
Chapter 7 - Thane
It does mean something.
Those are the words I want to say as I follow Willow to the kitchen, still reeling from the look she gave me before she stormed out—the kind of look that could freeze fire.
Of course, I have no right to say those words. Why does her safetymeananything to me, anyway?
Right.
Because she's my fated mate, and we're destined to live happily ever after.
Except, her cold blue eyes warn me that she'll bite if I dare bring up being fated mates.
Willow is right. Iamthe one who rejected her. Idon'tget to hold her like it means something.
Then why do my fingers tingle with the desperate urge to reach out and grab her back, pull her toward my chest, and wrap my arms around her with the promise to never let her go?
I'd lost that right when I rejected her in the past, and now I'm forced to bite my tongue and clamp down on the urge to feel…whatever I felt when I grabbed her wrist.
For a split second, I'd caught a glimpse of heaven, tasted it on my tongue while my fingers were coiled around her dainty wrist. I met what felt like the height of my existence, and Willow crushed it with her denial.
Now, she moves with sharp, deliberate steps, her sack left forgotten on the bedroom floor, along with the impulse to run, I hope. I follow her silently, still mulling over the strange revelation that she's my fated mate.
Why didn't I feel it before?
When Willow reaches the kitchen, the tension that had been cutting through the air like sharp daggers seems to vanish. Just like that, she appears calm again, collected.
Numb.
As if none of it had happened.
I frown as I watch her open a cupboard, probably aware that I've followed her, but nonchalant about it. She retrieves a glass and fills it with water from the tap, as if this were the most normal evening of her life.
My pulse still pounds from the confrontation in the guest room, but she doesn’t even glance my way. The same woman who just shouted that she’d never mate with me now stands by the sink, drinking water as though she doesn't have a care in the world.
It’s unsettling, an odd shiver coursing down my back.
Her movements are mechanical—quiet, precise, detached. She doesn’t even flinch when I step closer. Her eyes are distant, unfocused, back to what I saw when I found her in Seward, and the faint tremor in her hand is the only sign she’s still feeling anything at all.
I realize she's protecting herself from me.
The thought sits heavy in my chest. I should say something—to explain, to apologize for the past that she still holds against me, to break through that shell she’d built around herself—but the words catch on my tongue. I’ve never been good at saying the right thing when it comes to Willow Barker, and that's how I messed up in the past.
By spewing words that should never have left my lips.
Standing in the kitchen like a fool, watching her rinse her glass and set it upside down on the drying rack, I'm not quite sure what to say. When she turns, for the briefest moment, her eyes meet mine, and the exhaustion I see in her gaze nearly undoes me.
