Couldn’t have said it better myself.
18
PHAEDRA
None of the scepters will work. Either they’re all too masculine, lacking in grandeur, or like the French Scepter of Charles V, clearly represent a king of this world. I throw down my pen, lean back in my chair, and swear a blue streak. Gift. I snort. This isn’t a gift. Why would Athena even say that? I’m tired of these games.
Hawthorne stretches on the couch, and I look over to find him rubbing his eyes. For the last three days he’s been in here working as hard as me, although on something totally different. I don’t know the exact details, but I know they’re racing to find Jamison’s father and Bennett so they can end the mage threat against us. Of course, that will still leave the vampires, but maybe Mathias is working on that angle.
“I’m going outside for a breath of fresh air,” I tell him as I stand. “Want to come with me?” He doesn’t even look up, and I realize he’s likely in a zone. “I’ll be back.” He nods, and I leave him there.
Outside, I lean against the porch railing and fill my lungs with the crisp night air. There has to be a solution to this. Maybe if I stop thinking about it for a few hours, it will come to me. Air shifts behind me, and I wait for whoever it is to say something. Silence. None of the three would stand there. Not even Jamison. His manners wouldn’t let him. Mathias. I grip the railing tighter but don’t turn around.
“Are you going to just stand there and not say anything? Or is there nothing left to say between us?” I ask quietly, looking up at the moon as I wait breathlessly for him to answer.
He moves closer. If he were Gatlin, I’d be able to feel the heat coming off him. Instead, the air remains cool but charged with tension. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll just leave again without saying a word.
“What would you have me say?” His voice is quiet, his tone velvet smooth, and I shut my eyes for a brief second to savor the first words he’s said to me in weeks. It doesn’t matter the content. Only that he bent a little.
I’m afraid to look at him and ruin this moment. “Everything. Good or bad. I don’t care. I want it all. The silence between us is deafening. Tell me you hate me. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.” I bite my lip, then blurt out one of the questions I’m dying to know. “Tell me what it means to be your mate.”
“I don’t hate you,” he says, moving an inch closer. He exhales, his breath disturbing my hair, and I shiver at how close he is. “For a long time, I hated myself.” His words are raw and powerful. “Ever since I stepped into this world, I’ve been at war with myself. I chose to enter the portal and leave my daughter behind. I chose duty instead of love, and I’ve hated myself every day for it. When I saw your memories, I suddenly had someone else to blame. A target for all my anger.”
“That’s a feeling I’m familiar with,” I admit to him, wanting to be honest. “I’ve felt like that every day since I opened the vase. Anger. Guilt. But unlike you, I know I’m to blame.”
I’m not expecting him to forgive me, but I need him to know I understand his anger toward me. “I can’t fathom the pain you’ve endured without your daughter. Nothing I say will ease it, but I’m truly sorry for opening the portals and creating the situation that led to your separation.”
I pause and turn to face him. His eyes are so dark behind his glasses that it’s like staring into a midnight sky on a starless night. And they’re unreadable. A blank slate reflecting nothing back to me. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
Deep lines bracket his mouth and the corners of his eyes. He looks rough. His current mission must be driving him to the edge. A hint of gold glimmers around his neck, and I know it’s the locket with his daughter’s picture in it. My gaze lingers, and it’s like a beacon, telling me to let him go.
“I believe the panels will form a box with a key,” I tell him, twisting my fingers together so I won’t be tempted to reach for him. “One that opens the portals.”
His hand rises and wraps around the locket. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I might be able to offer you a way home,” I say, wanting to give him some hope. “You’ll be able to return to Kallias. Spend the rest of your life with your daughter.”
A muscle tics in his jaw, and he steps closer to me, his hands coming to rest on either side of me, trapping me between him and the railing. “And what about you?” His tone is biting and cold, as if the thought angers him.
Bewildered, my brow furrows. “What about me? I don’t think the gods will let me leave this world.”
His eyes narrow, and his eyes change in an instant, infused with red. “You think I’d step through the portals and leavemy mate behind?” He presses closer, eliminating the last inch between us. A harsh laugh escapes him. “You really don’t have a high opinion of me.”
“I…” I try to reply but falter at the look in his eyes and just shake my head, unable to understand why he’s so angry.
His mouth inches closer until his lips are hovering above mine. The wood cracks beside me, but I don’t dare look to see what’s happening for fear of him disappearing again.
“You’re my mate. Mine.” His mouth dips another centimeter. “And I’ve never even kissed you.”
“I still don’t know what that means,” I whisper, although I’m not sure he’s listening. “Jamison said the mate bond doesn’t mean anything unless we exchange blood. Does it go away?”
He’s staring at my lips like he’s starving.
“Mathias?”
His eyes close. “Say it again.”
“Mathias.”
