His gaze held mine, steady, unreadable. Then, "I do respect that," he tried.
"Do you?" I stepped closer. "Because it doesn't feel like it."
For a moment, something flickered across his face. Not anger. Not arrogance. Something… tighter. Regret.
"I misjudged," he admitted, just as quietly. "The situation. And you. I got carried away by my own selfish reasoning."
I huffed a humorless laugh. "That's one way to put it."
"I will not do it again."
The words landed heavier than I expected. Firm. Absolute. Arkhevari. I studied him, searching for the loophole.
"Ever?" I challenged.
His gaze didn't waver. "Ever. I swear." Then he amended, "Unless your life depends on it."
I hesitated.
…fair. Annoyingly fair. My shoulders dropped a fraction.
"Don't make me regret trusting you on that," I warned.
"I won't."
The certainty in his voice did something to my chest. Tightened it in a way I didn't want to examine too closely. God. This man—alien. Whatever he was. He was going to drive me insane. I scrubbed a hand over my face, the last of the anger bled out, leaving something rawer behind.
"You were just going to leave, like that." I wanted to know, because, yeah, I was still a little piss-hurt about that.
He rolled his eyes, "It wasn't like I wasn't going to come back soon."
Oh, that arrogant little bastard. "That's not the point."
He stilled. I met his eyes again, forcing the words out. "I didn't even get a goodbye."
For all his self-proclaimed godliness, he was pretty dense when it came to emotions. Because he looked awfully confused.
"I didn't think you would want one. I'm just going to get Nythor. Like you humans say,it'sno big deal."
His arrogance was insufferable. But wasn't that one of the reasons I lo… liked him so much?
"You don't get to decide that either," I said softly.
Another pause followed, then he stepped closer. Giving me every chance to stop him. I didn't. My pulse kicked up the moment I felt his body heat.
"Very well," he said, voice low. "Then say what you need to say."
What Ineededto say? That was the problem. There was too much. Too many things tangled together—anger, curiosity, fear, something dangerously close to… something else.
"You're infuriating," I started. His mouth twitched. "Arrogant. Controlling. Completely incapable of respecting boundaries."
"That has been noted," he agreed.
"And—" I faltered, then forced it out anyway. "—you scare the hell out of me."
That wiped the faint amusement from his face. "I will not harm you. Not ever."
I shook my head. How dense was this god imposter? "I know, that's not it… Sometimes, things are out of your control…" he gave methelook, and I amended, "Things might not go the way you like…" damn him, there was that look again. Like nothing in the universe could ever hurt him. "That doesn't mean you can't hurt me," I finished.
