Syndras came hobbling back into the room. “Kyzaire, I must protest that?—”
“This is a private matter between me and mykyrana, Syndras,” Kaldur growled.
A sound squeaked out from me just as Syndras froze, her eyes widening almost comically.
Hiskyrana? His blood mate?
“What?” I breathed.
My unfocused, stunned gaze went back to Syndras, hovering in the doorway. She seemed equally speechless, merely blinking her bright green eyes as she digested the words.
My eyes went back to Kaldur, who was glaring down at me. Though I had the strangest impression that this was his natural state. The lines of his face had deepened with that expression, as if they were stuck.
“You can’t mean that,” I murmured, suddenly scared and reeling.
No. He was doing this to manipulate me. But for what purpose? He’d made his feelings clear. Was this some ploy to get me back as his blood giver?
If it was, it was a lot of effort on his part. He looked…awful.
“For weeks, I’ve been searching for you,” he grated, his wings sagging around him when he kneeled in front of me, his chest pressing into my knees. “Do you know what this feels like?”
The question was so ragged and aching that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t want to feel sympathy for this male. He’d hurt me on purpose, said cruel things, and made me feel so small and discarded and alone.
I want him to hurt,I thought. Then I was ashamed at the ugly thought. The only other person in this entire universe who I’d thought that of had been Wrezaan once.
“It’s not true,” I said quietly. “You’re…you’re lying. I don’t understand—I don’t understand why you would do this! Just let me be!”
Kaldur closed his eyes, a flash of pain scrunching up his expression.
“I’ll make this right, Erina,” he told me when he fastened that gaze back on me. The intensity in his eyes pulled at my heart, pulled me back in, and I couldn’t afford to let that happen. I wouldn’t be a blind, romantic little fool anymore. He’d taught me that. “I just need the chance to.”
“It’s always about what you want,” I said, my voice sounding hollow. “And I don’t care enough to want to please you anymore. So,leave. I’m not going with you. I don’t want anything to do with you, especially after your last letter. You made it very clear what you wanted…and that was me, far away from you.”
His brow scrunched down. “My letter? I haven’t written you! I haven’t even been able tofindyou!”
“Stop lying, Kaldur,” I pleaded. “Just leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that,” he growled. “I can never do that, so don’t ask me to!”
I didn’t understand it. It felt like he’d ripped open a wound that had just started to heal, leaving it raw and ravaged all over again. Or perhaps it had always been open and I’d just learned to live with it since that night in his study.
I was hurt and angry. Embarrassed because Syndras was watching this unfold.
“We can talk back at the keep,” Kaldur finally said, standing, though he reached down to take my hand.
“I’m not going with you,” I said, a little growl of my own.
His eyes shot with fire. “And I’m not leaving without you. I’lllive in thisfuckingroom if I must, but I will not be parted from you again. Ever.”
He was mad. He must’ve been. Or delusional.
“You told me to never contact you again,” I told him, glaring as I forcibly tried to jerk my hand from his grip. “So how dare you do this! How dare you do this to me!”
“I never said that,” he clipped out. Glaring again. “What are you talking about?”
“Your letter!” I yelled out, frustrated tears beginning to drip down my cheeks, which made his tight expression pull even further.
“Whatletter?”
