“Me too.” He fixed his coffee with a soft smile on his face. An expression of blissful peace. Then he set the cream down and looked up at me to add, “And it made it all the more special. I will treasure that memory.”
“Me too,” I repeated his words. Then I smirked. “You got me good, Falcon Lord. Well done.”
“Do I?” Taeven started filling his plate and motioned for me to do the same. “Then we can proceed after breakfast?”
“Proceed with what?” I went still.
His sharp gaze locked on mine. “With the soul transfer. I assumed that your acceptance of me included an acceptance of my offer.”
“You assumed wrong.”
Taeven dropped the serving spoon with a clatter. “Excuse me?”
“Just because I want to be with you, it doesn't mean that I want to be immortal.”
“You let me . . .” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do you think that I want to form an attachment to a mortal man?”
I gaped at him. My mother had once told me that to understand someone, I had to step outside of myself and see things from their perspective—imagine myself as that person, with all their needs and desires. I had failed to do that with Taeven. I hadn't thought about what he might be going through. How my refusal would affect him. At least, not beyond the obvious ways. It hadn't occurred to me that any feelings he developed for me would become painful if I wasn't immortal. By refusing his offer, I was refusing his love. He wouldn't allow himself to feel anything more for me. He probably resented what he did feel, maybe even felt tricked into it. Shit. His assumption had been fair. From what I'd told him, he was an obstacle to my becoming his valorian, and we'd done away with that obstacle last night. So, it wasn't a stretch for him to assume that I'd want to take the plunge. Or that we would have the option of being together forever.
Forever. Fuck.
I was an utter asshole. But did that guilt warrant my acceptance? Did I take a chance on Tae and give up my mortality for a man who, even though it had only been two days, I knew I was in love with? And what if it didn't work? Would he leave me if he couldn't have me forever? Or would he stay with me knowing that we'd have more years together than we would have if I were mortal? And what would happen when he found his true valorian? Would I be cast aside? Fuck, it was a lot to risk, but he was staring at me with those amazing eyes, waiting for me to say something, and damn if I didn't want to say yes.
“Can I have a little more time to think about it?” I finally asked.
Taeven shuddered, and I wasn't sure if it was from relief or sadness; his expression held both.
“Yes, you can have a little more time,” he said softly. “But you cannot have it with me.”
“What?” I gaped at him. I'd assumed he'd pull out all his sexy tricks to get me to give in.
“I already care too much about you,” he said crisply. “If you remain mortal, I will have to end things with you. I can't become attached to a mortal, Shane. I'm sorry, I just can't. Especially not when it would mean that I'd have to start looking for someone else to be my valorian.”
The thought of him sharing his soul with someone else sliced me deeper than I'd thought it would. I took a shaky breath and stared out the window, trying to compose myself. I reminded myself that it had only been two days. I shouldn't be so devastated by the thought of losing him. Fuck, I shouldn't be in love this soon. But my mind kept pulling up images of Tae—carrying Harrison, holding my hand, eating pastries on a park bench, tearing apart men who wanted to hurt me, and then, the big one, his face above me, set in an expression of sheer joy as he came.
“All right,” I whispered, my heart bleeding with the words.
Taeven nodded and set his attention on the food. We ate like strangers, the good mood gone completely, and when we were done, I went into the bedroom and pulled on my dirty clothes, not bothering to take the shower I'd been looking forward to. I did, however, take the shampoo and conditioner. And a flower soap. All right, all the flower soaps.
Chapter Eighteen
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” John snapped at me later that day.
Taeven and I had spent an uncomfortable hour together in the carriage for the ride back to camp. As soon as we arrived, he told me that I had two days to make a decision, then he'd start looking for someone to replace me. With that, the Falcon Lord strode away, his guards flanking him and giving me nasty glares as they left. Slumping under the weight of indecision and heartache, I went to find my friends. Because after a day like that, I needed to vent to a few sympathetic ears. But my venting wasn't helping, and those ears weren't turning out to be so sympathetic.
We sat around a spread of leftover food that had been made for the Falcon Lord and his Guard—who had asked for lunch after returning from Fellbrook. It all tasted delicious, but part of me resented the fact that I was eating Taeven's scraps. No, not resented. I wasn't upset with him; I was upset with myself. Eating the food that had come from his table didn't make me angry, it made me sad. Deeply sad.
“I know,” I answered John. “You guys can't understand why I don't jump on this and him, but losing my mortality is a huge thing for me.”
“No,” John huffed. “I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you; you couldn't have waited untilafterhe sucked your buttery cock to tell him that you weren't going to accept his soul? You fucking idiot.”
There was a moment of horrified silence, then we all, myself included, burst into laughter.
“You're an asshole,” Vanessa declared. “That's why you don't have a boyfriend, John.”
“I have as many fuck-buddies as I want, Van,” he shot back. “And that's how I like it.” He swung his gaze back to me. “That being said, I'd give them all up to have the Falcon Lord suck my dick—buttered or not. And, by the way, I'm so buttering the next cock I suck. That's fucking brilliant. It gives some flavor while greasing it up. I think butter will be my new lubricant of choice.”
“Such an asshole.” Vanessa shook her head.
