Oh gods. I didn’t censor my thoughts at all just now.
He heard my misgivings, and he felt my doubts.
A day or two ago, such thoughts might not have wounded him so, but the intimacies we shared last night before the other highborn fae arrived had filled him with hope. Hope for us.
My face heats with shame, but then I experience a wave of anger. If I stay with Gideon, am I to spend the rest of my life guarding every thought for fear of offending him? That’s the sort of cage I don’t want to live in. It’s bad enough that I must worry about his ability to create protective barriers, wards that can hold me captive. But if I must constantly guard my thoughts… even worse than being his captive, I would become a shell of my former self.
“Do you expect me to be in agreement with you at all times, Gideon?” I ask. For some reason, it feels safer to voice my thoughts aloud rather than allow him to sense them. “Do you expect me to surrender to you without giving it careful consideration? I’m allowed to have doubts, Gideon. My own feelings. My own thoughts. You can’t command them.”
He goes utterly still.
“Isabel.” He draws in a quick breath and approaches me.
I lift my chin, determined not to cower. But my hands tremble at my sides, and a quavering breath leaves me. I’m not afraid of him, nor am I worried that he’ll hurt me, but I feel so vulnerable and exposed that I’m not certain how to proceed.
Part of me wishes he would suddenly harbor an unkind thought about me, or maybe even experience doubts about whether he wants me as his mate. Just so he knows what it’s like for the person on the other end of the bond to hear your doubts even when you wish they couldn’t.
The bond we share can be comforting. There are times it makes me feel safe and cherished. But right now… right now I wish I could control it. At the very least, I wish I could shield my thoughts on occasion.
He pauses in front of me. Still holding the unread letter, he gazes down at me with a concerned look. Eventually, I sense his remorse through the bond. He’s starting to understand my perspective, and he realizes how unfair it is for him to become upset every time I have doubts about our mating bond or our future.
He cups the side of my face in one hand, and though I want to be angry with him, I find myself leaning into his touch and seeking comfort in his presence. As he holds my gaze, he sends me a wave of tender warmth that brings tears to my eyes.
“Little moth.” He leans his forehead against mine. “You are right. I can’t command your feelings or your thoughts. Though we share a bond, a bond that will continue to grow deeper as we spend more time together, you shouldn’t have to worry about my reaction to your private thoughts. And for that, I am sorry, and I promise I will endeavor to give you space for your doubts.”
A shaky breath leaves me, and some of the tightness in my chest finally begins to ease.
“Then allow me more time,” I whisper. “Allow me more time to understand what this bond means. And time to understand what you mean to me, as well as what I mean to you. This is all happening so fast, and while I suppose it’s normal for a fae, since your people always have fated mates, I am human and struggling to come to terms with all that has happened.”
It’s still a shock to me how quickly my feelings for him are changing. Once, I was so certain that I would always want to escape him. But now, that certainty is wavering, giving way to tender feelings I’m not quite brave enough to put a name to. Feelings I must first make sure are genuine, rather than solely influenced by the mating bond we haven’t even consummated yet.
“You may have all the time you need, little moth,” he finally says. “I am not typically a patient male, but for you, I will learn.Perhaps that is why the gods have led us together, so we can each learn something from the other.”
He releases my face, then wraps me in his strong, muscular arms, gathering me close so that my ear rests against his rapidly beating heart. The familiar, comforting scent of peppermint, woodsmoke, spices, and pine surrounds me, and I savor the intimacy of our bond and the warmth he keeps sending me.
After taking a deep breath, I send him a wave of affection in return. I also wrap my arms around him, holding on to him as though I’ll never let go.
But then I remember the letter, and I stiffen in his embrace.
The letter, I send down the bond.Shouldn’t you read it now? What if it’s important?I am curious about the letter, especially since it’s from King Theron. What if the missive contains news about Helena?
Soon, Gideon replies, his voice a steady murmur in my head.I’ll read it soon. Actually, we can read it together. It would seem that neither of us can keep secrets from the other one anyway.
He withdraws partially from our hug, but only so he can kiss my forehead. I melt at the sweetness he’s showing me, the tenderness I would’ve never guessed a highborn lord from the Winter Court might be capable of. I can’t help but feel thankful for the Seelie blood in his veins, the half of him that comes from his mother’s side.
He peers down at me, his eyes gleaming with affection.
“Even if I were a pure-blooded Unseelie,” he murmurs, “I could never hurt you, little moth.” There’s no judgment in his voice, and I appreciate that he’s not chiding me for another random thought I couldn’t control.
“I know,” I whisper. “Now, let’s read that letter.”
CHAPTER 16
GIDEON
I guideIsabel to sit next to me on the bedroll near the fire. I regret that we’ll soon be headed north, bound for colder, snowier weather. And so, I want her to soak up as much warmth from the fire as she can before our departure.
Once she’s settled, I finish unrolling the letter and spread it out between us. As the edges of the paper glimmer with blue, I quickly realize it’s spelled. King Theron intends this letter for my eyes only, and anyone else who looks at it will think it’s naught but a blank page.
