Merrick turned his head to stare toward the corner where I’d swear shadows had slithered. No…there wasn’t anything there. A trick of the mind stretched by nerves.
But I still fought the urge to bare my teeth at nothing.
“What is it?” he asked, his hand sliding to the blade he—and I—always kept by our side.
“Nothing.” I wrenched my attention back to the conversation, though unease bit like insects coating my skin.
“Lorant—”
“I said it was nothing.”
“Alright.” I could feel his scowl. “Back to the ball. You haven’t told me how you handled things after I left.”
Could I avoid telling him a bit longer?
“Lorant,” he grumbled when I remained silent. “Please tell me you were at least civil to her.”
“Mostly.”
I could picture him rolling his eyes, and I hoped acceptance still lurked there.
How could I tell him that I’d dragged her onto the dance floor and taunted her with her feelings for me? Because I was angry that she’d avoided me, I’d pushed and pushed until her walls collapsed, and she snapped and ran away.
In trying to break her, I’d shattered myself.
I agreed with Merrick that we needed to keep nudging this where it had to go. Every other method taken by those who’d come before us had failed.
But if this didn’t do it…
“I found her standing on the balcony with moonlight stroking her hair,” I said softly. Did he hear the longing, the hopelessness in my voice? “It was all I could do to breathe. Seeing her there, bathed in silvery light… Her dark green gown clung to her like it belonged to her silhouette alone. I swear the stars had woven themselves into the fabric of her gown for this night and this woman alone. Her auburn hair shimmered with fiery whispers.”
So much longing. Craving. I’d lived with stark desperation since I met her.
“Never suggest you don’t feel the same for her as me.”
I couldn’t. Not ever.
“She stood there,” I said. “Alone. Her gaze lost somewhere beyond where I could see. But I sensed her uncertainty.”
“I hated leaving her. I always hate leaving her.”
Even more, I suspected, leaving her to me.
Her loneliness had echoed mine, a thing I’d found both profound and strangely unsettling.
“She didn’t know I was there, not at first.”
“Until you snarled.” His usual humor had fled. Maybe my moodwastransferring over to him, or he also felt the same fear that clenched my bones to breaking when I thought of how much there was still left to do with so little time.
“I did.” No use denying it.
“I hope you danced with her after you’d gotten that out of your system,” he said.
“Imadeher dance.”
“Lorant,” he sighed.
“You would’ve acted the same.”
