“Not a sergeant anymore,” Tristan rumbled grumpily.
“Right. All of you”—Nim glared at Tristan and the others—“go back to bed. Jos, Garet, spread out and give them some privacy.”
Slowly the corridor emptied and the doors around them closed. Jos and Garet moved to opposite ends of the corridor and studiously looked away.
She spent the time watching Matt. His dark blond hair was sticking to his head in places, standing in unruly tufts in others, as if he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it. His hazel eyes were almost entirely overrun by a thick band of gold, with dark smudges beneath them, and his scales were heavy and unmoving. His face was grim and his jaw so tightly clenched she could see the muscle jumping. He looked terrible. Even worse than when Dornar had stabbed him and they were on the run.
He put out his hand as if to touch her, but she stepped back, out of his reach, and he let his hand fall.
“Please can I come in and talk to you?” he asked in a low voice.
She shivered despite the cape and wrapped her arms around herself. He’d made the break he wanted, and she didn’t have the strength to go through that again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If you have something to say that was so urgent that it couldn’t wait, you can say it here.”
Mathos dragged his hand down his face exhaustedly and then folded his arms protectively over his chest. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I made a terrible, awful mistake.”
What was she supposed to say to that? That he had almost destroyed her? That she didn’t think she would ever fully recover? That she had told him he was making a mistake while he was busy doing it?
“Yes, you did,” she agreed softly.
“I know that I fucked everything up,” he continued, speaking slowly, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “I know that I hurt you and I’m sorry. More sorry than I can begin to explain. Please will you consider forgiving me?”
Her eyes burned with the prickle of more tears, but she held them back, determined to finish this hellish conversation and escape. “And if I forgive you, what then?”
His voice was low with conviction as he replied, “Please give me another chance. I don’t know exactly what’s between us, where we’re going, but... I know that I want to be with you. Any way that you’ll have me.”
Gods. She would have given a limb to hear those words just a few hours ago. But now? Now, she couldn’t trust them. What would happen when he changed his mind again? What would he do when he suddenly realized he could get hurt and decided to hurt her first? She didn’t know if she could bear it.
He had pushed her out of the nest, and it no longer felt safe to fly back.
She tightened her hands into fists, striving for control. “But you do know what’s between us, Matt. It’s just the same as what you felt for all the other women you’ve fucked—all those other women who also thought that they were different.”
He closed his eyes against her words, leaning back against the wall as if he needed the support as he replied, “That was a stupid, terrible thing to say.” He opened his eyes and looked at her, his irises completely gold. “And it wasn’t true.”
She sighed and scraped at her eyes with the back of her hands. “That’s exactly my point. How am I supposed to know what’s true and what isn’t?”
“That was the only time I’ve ever lied to you. I wanted to get away, I was… overwhelmed. But I’m back now. I’ll never lie to you again. Not ever.”
“Gods, Matt. Can you hear yourself? Were you so desperate to get away from me?”
And then it hit her—the true depth of what he’d done—and the words spilled out of her. “Damn. I was so hurt, so… it never dawned on me until now… you were so frantic to get away from me that you were prepared to sacrifice not only your career, but the Hawks, your brothers, everything.”
“No.” He shook his head roughly. “It wasn’t like that. It nearly broke me to walk away. I think it did break me.”
He held up his hands, and for the first time, she saw the lethal curved claws and the streaks of dried blood from where they’d broken through the skin.
The tears came then. Hot and out of control, burning her throat as the final broken shards of her heart shattered.
“That’s even worse, Matt.” She gestured toward his hands, tasting salt. “You were prepared to do that to yourself rather than be with me.”
She was done. She hadn’t realized that she could hurt any more, but she could. He had opened a bottomless pit of pain inside her.
She let her tears fall freely down her face as she stepped back into her room and closed her door.
She could hear him calling her name, but she ignored him as she collapsed back against the wood, her whole body shaking with grief. But also anger.
He had hurt her more deeply than anyone ever before him. But he’d also broken her out of the prison she’d been holding herself in. For the first time, she saw that he had walked away because of his demons, not because she wasn’t worthy.
Cerdic, Ballanor, even her father, they had all abandoned her because of their own failings, not hers.
