He stops and tilts his head back at me. “Yes, of course. I used to, at any rate. Criminal records aside, they should really all be dead by now, so there’s no feasible way to perform the background checking ritual.”
Criminal records aside.
I giggle, and we enter the library.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re charming.”
“Back to affirmations, is it?” He sighs and opens the way down to his magic study, where he wastes no time settling me in the chair at his desk and throwing open the door to his room of statues.
There—even though he’s just gone over the long list ofotherthings we must do today—his determination stalls. The weight of the task at hand presses on him, and I can feel how suffocating it is.
“What if you start small?” I ask. “Maybe…not on any of the humans that in some way or another seemed towantthis…but on something else? Something with less emotional strain?” I ponder. “Like an animal?”
“An animal…” he murmurs, then his shoulders square. Turning away from the door, he reaches the desk before me and carefully traces his fingers across the surface until he finds a stone spider. “This was an accident.” He lifts the creature. “I was texting Willow…and I was facing irregular emotions…and I saw the creature…and I subconsciously gave in to what I thought was unavoidable.” Unease riles inside him. “I must change what I believe is or is not unavoidable. I cannot allow mistakes like this in the future.”
I touch his hand. “Mistakes are normal.”
“Minehurtpeople.”
“You shouldn’t beat yourself up over them forever, and if everything you’ve told me is right, you can choose when you hurt people. I like you, Castor. A lot. I like you because you’re genuine. You’re careful and caring when you want to be, and when you want to be, I don’t think anyone else in the world could be half as gentle. That said, I like you when you’re rough, too. I like you when you’re trying to show me why I shouldn’t. I trust you. I trust you in ways I didn’t know people were capable of. Whatever you have been, whatever you will be, you are strong. Strong enough to face the hard things, accept them, and make a new choice if that’s what you want. You may never be whollygood, but you are forgivable. And you need to forgive yourself if you’re ever going to do better. Heck, you need to forgive yourself if you intend to find peace in doing worse. Forgiveness must be the first step, no matter where you go beyond it. Control is yours, but you must take it.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Pollux and Cael last night proved that no matter how many mistakes you’ve made, you are worth forgiving.”
“I shouldn’t be,” he whispers. “There are a grand number of things I have done that I shouldn’t be forgiven for.”
“Frankly, Castor? That’s not your decision to make. Forgiveness isn’t about what someone deserves. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s about the exact opposite.”
Breath leaves him, and he reaches a shaking hand toward his blindfold. “I trust you, my feather. Do not open your eyes until I tell you you may.”
Closing my eyes, I say, “I promise I won’t.”
The second his eyes open, Ifeelmagic shift in the air. The weight of his power consumes every inch of me. His magic fills the space around us, effortlessly, and I shiver, shuddering, beneath the caress of so muchhim.
Hands gripping the arms of the chair I’m in, I brace myself and pray that whatever he’s trying willworkand my belief may be enough for the both of us.
Chapter 42
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The cure was the friends we made along the way.
Castor
Pink lips…blonde hair…pale skin…
My mateisan angel.
Fire dances in her waving locks as they cascade over her shoulders, against the pink of the dress I garbed her in before she took over the magic of my robes, made them hers, and began playing upon my flesh. As though she can feel the weight of my attention on her, she fights to maintain calm. Her plump lips part, panting for breath.
Lifting my free hand, I reach for her—comforted only in the knowledge that she has promised with her fae tongue not to open her eyes. She physicallycannotbreak that oath. So. She is safe. Safe fromme.
My skin—whiter than hers—settles against her cheek, and violent waves of desire pound into the shore of my mind. I thought it was painful before, wanting her as badly as I have, but nothing I have felt compares to how much I want her now. She was crafted for me. Every centimeter, every cell. And itshows. I have never before longed for a woman in this way.
Making the agony so much worse, she also wants me.
