Or maybe ending completely.
Oh, fuck.
No. No. No.
Heknewthis feeling—this heady, acidic warmth. He’d felt it dozens of times.Inside Sean.
David tried to stop it, but the very chemistry of his brain altered as his conjoined soul made a home for Sean’s magical bond to Isobel, right in the center of his heart.
Opinions shifted, and brand-new thoughts that were somehow familiar to him rained through his consciousness—thoughts of tarnished emotions and forced sentiments, thoughts of entrapment and prisons. In the space of one second, she snapped every cell in his body in half and put them back together in a different order.
He didn’t want to acknowledge it. Could hardly believe he felt it. Couldn’t bear to name it.
But denial was impossible.
Hurt when he hurts.
Breathe when he breathes.
Love what he loves.
This poisonous love ate through David’s insides, the same way it had for Sean.
David’s hands began to shake, and he clasped them to stop it. He wanted to leave, to run. But where would he go? He couldn’t outrun something like this. It was in his very soul.
Without speaking, without even looking at her again, Davidstrode from the room, heading straight back to his room. He slipped through the door and stilled at the sight of the woman sleeping in his bed.
Somehow, in the tumult, he’d forgotten about Anna.
He stared at her face—her pretty, pretty face—and the next, far worse realization hit with all the subtlety of an explosion, shattering something inside.
The two of them, whatever they were to each other…they wouldn’t survive this. The fragile, budding affection inside her would wither and die in the face of this.
How could he even explain it?
I thought I might be able to love you, but the truth is that I love someone else. I don’t want to, but I can’t stop it. I will never be able to look at you and say you’re the only one.
Nausea burned its way up his throat.
How much more would he have to sacrifice for this forsaken bond?
His magic. His memories. His very personality. And now Anna. She was a casualty of Isobel’s selfishness. She’d fallen in love with the wrong man.
Even in sleep, that sparkling love shone just beneath Anna’s surface, fresh and sweet and eager to grow. David moved to the end of the bed, still gazing at her face, relaxed in sleep.
When she woke, everything would be different.
Could he continue to string her along when this poison was dripping through his heart? Not without hurting her.
And suddenly, he felt…broken. Bereft. Resentful that he’d been right about their expiration date.
This wasn’t something he wanted to be right about, but hadn’t he known all along that she’d be taken from him? He’d just never dreamed it would be because of Isobel.
A great fissure spread through his ice, and a bleak sadness leaked through, dull and heavy, smelling like the ghost of honeysuckle fading from his bedsheets.
Anna flinched in sleep, almost as if she could feel it, this cracking, shattering pain he tried to shove away.
Was this how it would feel without her? Would the absence of her eat away at him like acid?
