“Just a few bites,” I said, tipping her chin up. “What kind of nursemaid would I be if I didn’t feed you?”
She smirked. “You’re going to feed me?”
“Does the idea excite you?” I raised my brows, enjoying the way her pale cheeks pinkened with her blush.
Glaring at me, she opened her mouth when I brought the spoon to her. One spoonful. Then another. After the fourth, she shook her head.
“I can’t.” She lay down. “You have the rest.”
“By myself?” I teased, giving her a smile. “Where’s my nursemaid to feed me?”
Quickly, I brought the bowl to my lips, drinking what was left of the broth. It landed hard, twisting in my upset gut and making my head throb a little worse. I waited a few beats for the dizziness to disappear, all the while smiling at my mate who hadn’t yet looked away from me. After setting the bowl down, I lifted the blanket to her shoulders, tucking her in with a long kiss to her forehead.
With a featherlight touch, her hand wrapped around my wrist. “Will you . . .” Her eyes caught mine, flickering across my face. “Will you hold me?”
I hesitated, visions of Etienne and Finley gripping my chest like a vise. How many times had she asked him to hold her?
As if sensing my thoughts, she rushed on. “It’s not like that with Etienne and me. It’s never been like that.”
My breath caught.Never?
The word didn’t settle. It bounced against the inside of my skull, unable to find a place to land.
Never.
Her eyes held mine, a flash of rare vulnerability flashing behind them. “He’s—we’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. Friends.” She breathed the last word.
Friends.
For several beats, I couldn’t feel my hands. All I could do was stare at her.
Years of assumptions, of carefully construed distance, splintered in an instant.
Every time I’d stepped back. Every time I’d swallowed the urge to reach for her because I believed I had already been unchosen.
Unchosen.
Too unwanted.
Standing where I no longer belonged.
The vise around my chest didn’t loosen. It shattered.
Hope surged up so violently that it made me dizzy.
Had I misunderstood everything? All their lingering looks. Their clasped hands. How she’d stood near Etienne, seemed comfortable there.
Gods.
All this time, I’d thought I was the one trespassing. That I had imagined the moments she seemed to stand closer to me without meaning to.
“Never?” I repeated, barely trusting my voice. As if saying it aloud might make it vanish.
Her expression softened. “Never.”
A strange, almost bitter laugh wanted to claw its way up my throat. I had built my restraint around an illusion. A ghost of something that never existed.
This, me holding her, wouldn’t be a betrayal against Etienne. Instead, she was asking me to be what fate always intended—the one who held her when the world broke around her.
