“You can’t embrace it, then panic and deny it until it goes away.”
I tighten my jaw muscles against his fingers, a silent message that he let his strength get away from him again. But I don’t want him to let go. I don’t trust what I’ll do, don’t know who I am. His touch is grounding. Dependable. Real.
“I can.” I can deny every bit of pain, the death, the fear, the unknown. I can deny the loss and guilt, even my fragile state of mind. But him, this man of strength and smirks, of hidden heart and songs and suffering—he’s undeniable.
“How can you control it if you refuse to believe it’s real?”
The outer layer of my heart cracks. Violent gusts of chilled air tear branches from limbs. “Look what I did.” I wave a hand at the sea of bodies.
“You were protecting and defending.” He grins. “Only with a little darkness on your sleeve.” His fingers press harder. His eyes unlock new layers of emotion, both unsettling and alluring. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
My heart thumps. Again and again. Trying to escape his hold. But a shadow enters my chest and shoves my feelings down to unreachable depths.
“You’ve got my heart.” I cover it with my hand, the beat hammering into my palm. The wind whips my hair from cheek to cheek.
“Always.”
“I mean you’re controlling it. You stopped me from reacting.”
His eyes fall shut, and he drops his hand from my face before reopening them. “It’s safer that way.”
I scratch dirt from my corduroy pants and pretend I don’t care. “Is Atom okay? Where is everyone?”
“Safe. No one has tried to attack again after what you did.” He hands me a canteen. “And the kid is fine. He wouldn’t stop hovering over you and asking me questions. And Milo kept checking if you were breathing every five minutes. Kaleida was lecturing me about how cold you were. Then Sypher complained about the bodies—even though they’re preserved by the cold—and the fucking Hollow looked at you, so I sent them all to Milo’s house for more bars. They’ll sleep there tonight if it’s safe and come back in the morning.”
“It’s almost like they’re your friends,” I tease. “And why so much fuss while I slept?”
“You’ve been out since yesterday afternoon.”
I tense. “A whole day?”
“Longer. You woke up a few times for things. I’ve been feeding you and giving you water, but you weren’tthere. You didn’t speak or look at me.”
It seems my brain has mastered unconsciousness. And left me out of it.
“You fed me?”
He smiles, a sharpness to it I don’t recognize. “You chewed with your mouth open and bit my fingers.”
His words are innocent. Even the way he helps tip the canteen against my lips when my hands shake is thoughtful. But beneath the surface lurks a darkness, a desire. It’s unmistakable. It’s not his dark aura—I rarely see it now without his lightness. They’ve merged, like him and Kelter, like a warm breeze and a kiss of rain on the coldest, darkest night.
But this? This is new. And dangerous.
“Your curse is fading. I can hardly feel your light and dark sides anymore. They’re mixing together, turning gray.”
Fear flashes through his eyes. Fingers skitter down my neck as his breeze wisps over my cheeks, nothing like the cold wind striking the rest of me. He has no response, only unfeeling glances and tense hands.
It seems every step closer is a step away. With Eli. With getting answers. With the elixir. The border. The curse. Magic. I’d rather be going backward than nowhere at all.
Eli said I have to choose what matters to me, thatIhave to give it purpose, but how? What if I choose him? How can I do that with my heart locked up, without taking risks? I can’t. I’m directionless, lost in my own map of endless dead ends. Picked up by a storm and dropped again. But I’m tired of choosing nothing and going nowhere. I want tobethe storm. Like I was when I fought the Vaile. How do I hold onto that?
I beg my heart not to get out of line. One normal beat at a time, please.
I swallow a swig of water and put a hand on his knee, choosing kindness out of caution, even though it feels clumsy coming out of my mouth. And maybe I still care, even with how he commands my heart. “Did you recover from drowning and get some rest while I was out?”
I don’t miss the almost imperceptible upward flick of his eyebrow, the tilt of his head. He’s struggling to maintain control. But of what? “No. I watched you sleep.”
That explains it. He’s exhausted. “You can’t keep going like this forever.”
