“I never want you to feel alone, star. Never with me.”
As I say the words, they settle into the bottom of my stomach like stones. Guilt, hot and sickly, rises in the back of my throat.
Because there’s no getting around the truth of it.
Stark and unavoidable. The truth that I can’t be worthy of my mate. At least not until I clear my debts and do something about the mess I’ve made of my life.
I don’t want to be a demon like my father was.
I don’t want to be a burden on those I care for.
I don’t want Seren to be waiting for me, disappointed in me, living a life less than the one she deserves because of me.
I don’t know how to say it, how to tell her, how to find words that would ever express how sorry I am, how much I wish I could give her more. Give her what she deserves.
But I don’t have to.
When I meet my witch’s eyes again, they’re hard, blazing, as if she can hear all my self-recriminations and wants to throw them right back at me.
Like she’s not going to let me retreat, not going to back down without a fight.
39
Seren
Callum is pulling away again.
He still won’t let me in, not completely, and besides breaking my heart, it’s really pissing me off.
Who is he to decide this isn’t going to work?
My mind flashes back to our first disastrous meeting, to our first day in Faerie, to oursecondday in Faerie when he showed up just in time.
He’s always been right there.
Following me, pursuing me, making sure I stay safe.
And now he’s pulling away?
Not if I have anything to say about it. Sure, it took me a little time to catch up, but I’m here now. If he thinks insignificant obstacles like a bad bargain with his boss and a parent to support are going to get in my way, he really doesn’t know me at all.
“We’ll figure it out,” I insist.
“Figure what out?”
“Life. All of it. Everything. We’ll figure it out.”
“What life, Seren?” he says, and despite how agonized he sounds, I want to shake him.
“Our life!”
He laughs, bitter and defeated. “I can’t give you a life that’s worthy of you, my star.”
Okay. Enough of this.
I do shake him this time. I stand from the bench, move in front of him, take him by his big, broad, stupidly handsome shoulders and give him a good jostle until he has to look at me.
“Again, how about you let me decide what’s worthy of me and what’s not?”
