Awareness flickered in my mate, and her fingers twisted in the fabric of my linen shirt. I didn’t think—simply reacted.
Light burst from me, pinning her wrists to the stone.
It was wrong, so wrong, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. Chest heaving, I broke our kiss, capturing those icy blue orbs and begging her to see how completely and utterly lost I was to her. How her continued rejection stung like I’d stepped into a hive of bees.
Instead, her lips curled back from her teeth.
“You stubborn, stubborn female,” I growled, tracking the motion. “I know you want me. You just hate that you do. That’s why you tattoo this list of my sins onto your skin. So when you want to feel superior, when you want to justify your loathing, you have a book of scripture.”
I leaned in, breathing my next words over the shell of her ear—only loud enough for her to hear. “We both know it will never be enough. You are mine, Sylaira. We are one, bound by this bond. Our Radiant Mother deemed it so.”
“We are nothing alike.” She forced in a breath, body trembling. “There is no possibility of us being one. There is no world where I will ever be willingly yours.” Her low, melodic voice shook—for the briefest of moments. Then, a crazed laughslipped out of her, along with one teardrop. “I’m not sure if this is the first time we’ve ever been mated, but it will be the last. In my next world, and all the ones after, I will avoid your soul at all costs. I should have gotten on a boat to Északi, Déli, or Nugati the second I could. Then, we never would have crossed paths and my life would be all the better for it.”
I flinched away from her like she’d slapped me. Then, rage surged like an angry wave, and more of my radiant power slammed into her. I took two steps back, hands smoothing my mussed hair, while my magic held her in place. She glared at me like there was no way I’d ever work my way back into her heart. Because once again, I’d violated her agency.
I just couldn’t find it within me to care.
“Maybe I should visit Dasha’s bed,” I snapped, hurt slamming the door on logic—and bolting it shut behind me. “Since you don’t want me in yours. I’ve got to work this,” I gestured to the erection bulging out of my trousers, “out somehow.”
As soon as the final word landed, regret knifed through me, sharp and merciless.
A keening echo of my own pain reverberated between Sylaira and me. The satisfaction I should have felt from wounding her was hollow, empty, and mourning.
Tears tumbled down my mate’s cheeks. She closed her eyes, hiding the glacial color, and turned her head away, chin falling onto her shoulder. The storm I loved so much drained from her like my words had been a brutal wind.
I’d wanted to hurt her. And Goddess, I fucking had. But the way she slumped, too heavy to hold herself against the ethereal white locking her to the wall, made me wish I could claw the memory out of her skull.
“Go ahead, Issaraeth. I’ll add it to my list.” The way she said those words—so broken, so defeated—gutted me.
I have to get out of here.
The thought broke through the thunderhead of my mistakes. I snatched onto it like the lifeline it was. On my next ragged exhale, I lowered Sylaira to the ground—so gentle, like she might shatter if I so much as let her drop.
When her feet touched stone, she revealed her stormy irises, lifted her chin, and stared at me like she could command the moody sky to bring forth a purple bolt to strike me dead. Sylaira was defiance made flesh, and I was a monster.
How was I the one always drenched in the storm that was us?
Tearing my gaze away from her, I stalked down the hall, away from the healing feather. The chain binding us tightened, twisted, tugged, but even its magic couldn’t force me to return to her. Not when I would only make things worse. Not when my heart was breaking.
Sylaira’s sobs chased me around the corner, soft at first, then louder than the slap of my boots against stone. Louder than the staccato beat of my heart. Louder than my mistakes.
I’d lost her. And along the way, I’d lost myself too.
41
Breaking.
That was this tortuous ache. This soul-deep rupture.
The Issaraeth had already maimed me; I didn’t think he could have hurt me any worse before. But as he walked away from me then, having threatened to fuck his betrothed instead of me, I knew we were doomed.
At the thought of him touchingher, lightning shattered through my veins, white-hot and merciless. I clutched my hands over my chest, pressing into my heart like I could put the pieces back together.
Why did I feel this way?
I should havewantedhim to want her instead of me.
Instead, I was a jealous, weeping mess. A fool.
