I swallow hard. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken from me. I won’t—I can’t risk that again.”
“Not everyone,” Dane says quietly. “I’m still here.”
“And every day I worry that will change too.” The admission slips out before I can stop it.
Dane moves from the chair to sit beside me on the bed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We lost them, Lithia. It broke us both. But hiding from love won’t protect you from loss.”
I lean against him, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. “It’s not that simple.”
He sighs. “Just… don’t push him away because you’re scared. At least admit to yourself what you’re feeling.”
“And what about Levi?” I ask, changing the subject. “He hasn’t exactly been subtle about his intentions.”
Dane snorts. “Levi’s been in love with you for years. Everyone knew it but you.”
“I knew,” I correct. “I just chose not to acknowledge it.”
“Because of your no-attachment rule?”
“Because he deserves someone who can love him completely.” I pull away slightly. “I’m not that person, Dane. I don’t think I can ever be that person for anyone.”
“Even Kier?”
I don’t answer, which is answer enough.
Dane stands, recognizing when I’ve reached my limit for emotional revelations. “Get some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat that isn’t Elena’s healing broth.”
We both make a face. It might be healing, but it tastes about as good as the gruel I left behind.
“Bring me real meat and I’ll love you forever,” I joke weakly.
He pauses at the door, his expression serious again. “You already do. That’s my point, Lithia. You never stopped loving people. You just stopped admitting to it.”
After he leaves, I lie back against the pillows, his words echoing in my head. My gaze drifts to the empty bed beside mine where Kier had been for the first day. Elena moved him to a guest chamber in the main den yesterday, claiming he was recovered enough to no longer need her supervision.
I hadn’t protested, though my chest had tightened when he’d left. Now the space beside me feels emptier than it should, the silence louder.
You’re being ridiculous,I tell myself.He’s just down the hall.And this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Distance. Space to think clearly without the distraction of his presence.
My wolf disagrees, pacing restlessly beneath my skin. She wants to seek him out, to check on him, to feel his solid warmth beside me as I’ve grown accustomed to over our weeks of travel.
Stop it,I order her.We’re home now. Things are different.
But even as I think it, I find my senses straining to catch his scent, to hear his voice among the distant murmurs of pack activity. Without the silver suppressing her, my wolf is stronger, more insistent in her demands.
He’s ours,she insists, images of our night together flashing through my mind—his mouth on mine, his hands on my skin.
I force the memories away, focusing instead on the pain in my healing ribs and the mission that awaits me once I’m recovered. I am Beta of Shadowmist. I have responsibilities and obligations that cannot be set aside for the sake of whatever this feeling is.
This will pass,I tell myself.These feelings are just leftover adrenaline from our escape. Nothing more.
But as sleep claims me again, it’s his face I see behind my closed eyelids, his name that hovers unspoken on my lips.
And I hate myself for every second of weakness.
Chapter
Twenty
