Sunlight streamed in through the terrace doors, and for several moments, all I could do was sit there and stare at the open door. I couldn’t believe what’d happened, from the moment I woke up, all tangled up with him, until he left the bedchamber. What had happened to him left me confused. And my actions, what I’d done and allowed, left me stunned and in a daze.
Casteel had lost his mind. I’d lost my mind.
Kieran closed the door, cutting off the rush of sweet-scented air and snapping me from my thoughts. My gaze cut to where he stood in front of the fireplace. The flames had calmed, no longer stirred by the wind. “Did he hurt you?”
“What?” My voice was hoarse as I blinked.
“Did he hurt you, Penellaphe?” Kieran repeated, his voice softening. “No. He…” I looked at my bare legs. He hadn’t hurt me. He could’ve,
and I wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t wanted to, but he’d done the furthest thing from hurting me. Reaching for the blanket, I tugged it to my waist.
A muscle flexed in Kieran’s jaw. “He didn’t force himself on you?” “Gods, no.” I shoved the hair back from my face and caught sight of
the knife. It remained where I’d dropped it on the bed. Casteel hadn’t forced anything, and the truth was, I could’ve stopped what’d happened at any point if I wanted to. I could’ve wounded him enough to attempt an escape. But I hadn’t because I…I’d wanted what’d happened. I’d woken up wanting that. And I didn’t know if Casteel had sensed my desire through whatever had its claws in him, but regardless, I had wanted that.
Him.
I searched for remorse or shame, anything that would show that I regretted what’d taken place, but there was nothing. Like before, there was just vast confusion and irritation with myself because I knew better—knew that things like this just aided in me falling more and more for him. Not too long ago, I had told him that nothing like that would ever happen again, and
I’d proven that I couldn’t trust myself to make good life choices—not once or twice but three times. The pantry. The nightmare. And now, this. How could I want him so badly that I didn’t care about what he did or who he was? Or what he might do to me?
“What happened?” Kieran asked.
It took a couple of moments for me to gather my thoughts. “He woke up, and it was like he didn’t recognize me. He was snarling, and his eyes were pitch-black.” I left out quite a bit there as I looked at Kieran, but I was sure he already knew a great deal of what’d happened. “His eyes reminded me of an Ascended. Is he…will he be okay?”
Kieran’s face was impressively blank, considering what had just happened. “He should be once he cools down.”
“Cools down? I think he needs more than that.” I glanced at the door. “He was about to attack you.”
“In that moment, he saw me as a challenge.” He paused. “A threat.” “To who? Him?”
“You.”
My heart turned over heavily. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Kieran folded his arms over his broad chest. “Under the right or, I suppose extreme circumstances, those of his kind can become quite possessive.”
“With what? Their meals?” “Did he bite you?”
“Other than the first time?” I resisted the urge to touch the nearly faded mark on my throat. “No.”
Something akin to disappointment flickered over his face, and without thinking, I opened my gift and reached out to him. There would be time later to feel guilt over prying when it didn’t seem exactly necessary. What I felt wasn’t what I imagined disappointment to feel like. This was thick and cloying, reminding me of too-heavy cream. Concern. He felt concern. I pulled my senses back.
“What was wrong with him?” I asked, even though I already suspected I knew.
He watched me for a moment. “He’ll be fine. Although, I suggest you take this time to prepare yourself before he returns.”
Frustration surged, and I narrowed my eyes. “Thanks for the suggestion, but you didn’t answer my question. You said that you warned
him. About what?” Kieran said nothing.
Never able to remain seated when anger started pumping through my blood, I grabbed the dagger and shoved off the blanket, standing.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You plan to use that?”
“Why does everyone think I’m going to stab them when I pick up anything that’s not blunt?”
“Well,” Kieran replied blandly, “you do have a habit of doing exactly that.”
I started to argue but quickly realized that, unfortunately, he had a point. “Only when it’s deserved.” I placed the dagger on the small wooden table. “And it’s not my fault that some of you deserve to be stabbed. Repeatedly.”
He inclined his head as if he agreed with the point I’d made. “You shouldn’t worry about him—”
“And you should answer my question.” I faced him. “Something was obviously wrong with him. He wasn’t in control, and I felt his hunger. He was starving.”
“So you used your abilities?” A faint smile appeared. “Glad you took my advice.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know that Atlantians need to feed off other Atlantians. He told me that they don’t need the blood of mortals, but of their own kind. That they need to feed. But he never said why. I may not be a scholar on all things Atlantian, but I’m guessing the black eyes and him being ready to bite your head off are a couple of the reasons Atlantians need to feed?”
“The black eyes, yes. But the wanting to bite my head off probably had more to do with whatever morning activities you two were indulging in.”
My face flamed hotly, and it took everything in me to ignore that. “He needs to feed—” I thought about earlier, after the Dead Bones Clan attack. “That’s why he was staring at my arm in the woods! When you asked if he was okay. He was hungry then. That’s why he was…all growly and wanted to bite your head off.”
“Part of the reason. Yes.” Kieran looked away, dragging his teeth over his lip. A long moment passed. “He needs to feed. I could tell he was getting to the edge, but he’s not about to tip over it. He’s not that close.”
Unease blossomed. “How can he not be close? He didn’t recognize you or me.”
His gaze slid back to mine. “If he was closer to the edge, he would’ve ripped my head off, and you would be Ascending as we speak, forbidden or not. Or, you’d be dead. If he was too close to the edge, one drop of your blood would’ve sent him over. You most likely would’ve died, and when he realized what he’d done, he would’ve…I don’t even want to think about what he would’ve done.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, unsure which of those two options was worse. Well, Kieran getting his head torn off sounded way more painful and…messy than what could’ve happened to me.
If Casteel had been too close to the edge, if he’d fed and then ended up turning me, I would become…an Ascended. Unable to control my bloodlust. Unable to walk in the sun. Virtually immortal. But what kind of life was that?
Though what kind of life would I even have with Casteel? By the time I was old and gray, he would look as he did now. Young. Vital. He would—
Wait. Why was I even thinking about a future—our future—when there really wasn’t one? Maybe I truly had lost my mind.
I felt like I needed to sit down. “If this was him not close to the edge, then I don’t think I want to see him on it.”
“No, you do not.” Kieran tipped his head back against the wall. “Did he wake up normally, or was he startled awake?”
Thinking of what I’d been doing and fantasizing about before he’d woken up, I was glad that Kieran wasn’t looking at me. “I think I woke him up. I moved, and that’s when he sort of launched himself at me.”
“That makes sense,” he murmured, eyes closing. “I don’t like talking about him—about this kind of stuff. If he knew I was, he probably would rip my head off. I’d deserve it because there are things only he should be allowed to repeat. But I think you need to know this even though I’m not sure you deserve to be privy to the knowledge.”
“Why wouldn’t I be deserving?” I asked. It wasn’t like I was the one running around and kidnapping people. Casteel was.
“Because this is something only close friends and loved ones should be privy to, and you are neither.”
Well, he had a point there. But I already knew what Kieran didn’t think would be right to share. “He told me before that he had nightmares, and that
sometimes when he woke, he didn’t know where he was.”
In any other situation, I would’ve laughed upon seeing Kieran so surprised. But none of this was funny. “He told you?”
I nodded. “I had a nightmare—I have bad ones—and after one of them woke him, he told me about his.”
Kieran’s expression smoothed out. “Yes. He has nightmares. You know what was done to him when he was held by the Ascended. Sometimes, he finds himself back there, caged and used, his blood nor his body his.”
This time, I sat down before even realizing it, though I wasn’t surprised to find myself there. The heaviness of his words had put me there, and the reminder of the agony and horror of what Casteel had faced kept me there.
“When he has those nightmares he told you about, and if he’s startled awake, sometimes his mind gets stuck in that madness,” Kieran went on. And if anyone knew how nightmares could feel so very real, it was me. “And if he hasn’t fed, he can slip a little into the animal they turned him into.”
A monster.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes. What had he said when I’d called him a monster? I wasn’t born that way. I was made this way. But he wasn’t that. My heart ached as fiercely as it had when Casteel had told me about his captivity.
Letting out a shaky breath, I opened my eyes to find Kieran watching me. “He’s not an animal,” I said, and I wasn’t sure why I’d said it, but I needed to. “I don’t know what he is, but he’s not that. He’s not a monster.”
“No, he’s not.” His head tilted to the side. “I think you would’ve liked him if you had met him before all of this.”
Uncomfortable with how much I would’ve preferred that, I folded one arm over my waist.
A sad, wry smile formed on Kieran’s face, almost as if he knew what I was thinking. “I imagine a lot would be different.”
I nodded slowly, pulling myself out of the well of sorrow that was a cavern in my chest. “Why hasn’t he fed? There were Atlantians at the keep, right? There are Atlantians here.”
Kieran nodded. “There are many he could’ve fed from but he hasn’t.” “Why? Why would he let it get to this point?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a damn good question, isn’t it?”
 |
My damn good question didn’t have an answer, and it plagued me as I washed up and dressed in the baggy pants and the deep green tunic that had been in the bundle Quentyn had given me. Other unanswered questions bothered me, as well. Why wouldn’t Casteel have fed? Were the nightmares also partly responsible for the cutting sadness that clung to him? If this was him not too close to the edge, then what was he like when he was at the edge? What would’ve happened if he hadn’t…well, fed from me differently?
And why in the world had I allowed him, when he was obviously not in his right mind, to do what he’d done? And why had he done that? Did bloodlust elicit such actions? Or was it because he’d sensed my arousal? My cheeks burned, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that question.
Either way, I had been wrong when I said that I didn’t have a death wish. Because what if he had been teetering on that edge and he’d used that mouth for something else?
My stomach dipped as I ran a brush through my tangled hair. In the soft lamplight, the strands reminded me more of a ruby-hued wine than a blazing fire, like it often did in the sun. I angled my head to the side. The bite marks were no longer visible, but I left my hair down anyway and then stepped back into the bedchamber.
Kieran stood by the terrace doors, staring out them. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that he was still here. “Are you on babysitting duty? I agreed to the marriage,” I said as I picked up the thigh sheath. The word marriage still sounded strange on my tongue. “I’m not going to run.”
He turned to me. “I was waiting to see if you’d like to get some breakfast.”
“Oh.” I slid the wolven dagger into the holder and then straightened the hem of the tunic. The top was more form-fitting than I was used to, but it was clean. I glanced at the door. “Should we…should we wait for Casteel?”
He turned to me. “That won’t be necessary. He’ll find us when he’s ready.”
I nibbled on my lower lip. It didn’t feel right to go off when he was… well, going through whatever he was. And it also felt weird to be so concerned about him.
“Are you hungry right now?” Kieran asked, dragging my attention back to him. “Or would you like to see the Bay?”
“The Bay,” I chose, knowing my stomach was still too tied up in knots to eat anything yet.
“Good.” Kieran turned and opened the door.
Warmer air than I expected greeted us as we walked outside and across the yard. Within a few moments, I shoved the sleeves of my sweater up. “I didn’t expect it to be this nice here—weather-wise.”
“Next to Carsodonia, we’re at the most southern part of Solis. It’ll get cooler at night, especially as the season turns, but the days will remain pleasant.”
“Just like the capital.” I tipped my head back, letting the sun wash over my face as I heard the sound of distant voices and laughter coming from what I assumed was beyond the fortress. “Were you at the capital with Casteel?”
“For a time, yes. I wasn’t exactly a fan,” he said, and I glanced over at him with a raised brow. He shrugged a shoulder. “Too many Ascended. Too many people crowded together.”
“And there aren’t too many people crowded in Atlantia?” I asked as we walked past a crumbling stone wall. The black waters of Stygian Bay glittered like pools of obsidian, still and vast. It went on as far as I could see, disappearing into the horizon.
“Not yet, but if we continue growing, our cities will be as crowded.”
Reaching the top of a slight hill, I turned, unable to see anything beyond the fortress walls. “But you have Spessa’s End.”
Kieran nodded, and I still couldn’t believe that there was anything here. I started down the hill, and the grass gave way to sand. There was no damp scent as we drew close to the broken piers that jutted up from the water like decayed fingers. The air smelled of lavender, except I saw none of the purple-tipped plants. I stared at the lifeless, midnight waters, wondering when or if the god that slumbered within the Bay would wake. If so, what would the God of Common Men and Endings think of the world he’d left behind, of what was being done to the mortals he cared for in death?
Looking down, a sudden urge swept through me. “It has been years since I felt sand under my feet.”
“Now is a better time than any to feel it again, I suppose.”
His dry response didn’t deter me as I yanked off my boots and socks.
A grin tugged at my lips as I wiggled my toes in the warm, coarse sand.
Kieran snorted. “Malik used the do the same as soon as he reached the sand. Tear off his shoes so he could feel it against his feet.”
A heaviness settled over me as I walked toward the Bay, leaving my shoes and socks behind in a pile. “What was Malik like? I mean, what is he like?”
Kieran followed a few steps behind me, silent for a long moment. “He was kind and generous but also a wicked prankster. Casteel was always the far more serious one.” He joined me. “He was the brother you would’ve thought was being groomed from birth to be King.”
Casteel, the serious one? That surprised me more than the fact that a god slept in the Bay.
My thoughts must’ve been visible on my face because he said, “The way Casteel is with you—the teasing and trying to get a rise out of you— isn’t how he is with most.”
“So, it’s an act?”
“No, Casteel is just more…alive when he’s with you,” he said, and I— I thought my jaw might hit the sand.
“And Malik was the life and soul of the family,” Kieran continued. I picked my mouth up off the ground. “And the past tense is correct. Even if he lives, he will not be who he used to be.”
“But he’ll have his family to help him remember—his parents, Casteel, you,” I reasoned. “All of you can help him remember who he once was.”
Kieran didn’t respond.
I looked at him. “Do you…do you think he still lives?”
“He has to. Even if the vamprys have been capturing Atlantians all these years, full-blooded or half, they would not allow the Prince to die. With him, it takes less blood to complete the Ascension. He’s too much of a prize to let wither and die.”
Stomach churning, I briefly closed my eyes. While a large part of me hoped he still lived, a small part almost wished he didn’t. Whatever existence he had under the Ascended’s control was no life.
The question that was already answered surfaced again. How could the Ascended be allowed to continue?
They couldn’t be.
If Casteel and I were successful, then would I seriously be content spending the rest of my life safely hidden away while the Ascended continued ruling the people of Solis with fear? Stealing their children and who knew how many other people? If the Queen and King lived or died, wouldn’t the other Ascended simply find another Atlantian to continue making more Ascended, even if it were forbidden?
Casteel wanted to avoid war, but how could anyone be sure that the Royals would change? That they wouldn’t seek to go back to the way things were?
Kieran shifted slightly, looking over his shoulder. I followed his gaze, squinting. Three or four people walked past the crumbling walls, their clothing a vibrant array of golds and blues.
“Who are they?”
“Not entirely sure who they are,” Kieran answered, turning back around. “But most of the people here are older Descenters and Atlantians and wolven.”
I watched them until I could no longer see them, my stomach twisting into tiny knots. How would they respond to me? Friendly and outgoing like Elijah and Alastir, or would they be like the rest?
“Casteel and I came here once when we were younger, before the town was razed,” Kieran said, catching my attention. “It was one of the first times we’d left Atlantia. Malik was with us, and the people who lived here, those who were half-Atlantian or supporters knew who we were and behaved as if Rhain himself had risen from the Bay.”
Not one but two Princes in their midst must have stirred up some excitement.
“A lot of people crowded the edges of the Bay.” He squinted as if he were trying to see what had once been here. “A small girl slipped on the embankment and fell into the water. There was panic and helplessness as everyone stood at the edge.”
I sat down, several feet from the water’s edge. “No one jumped in after her?”
He shook his head. “No mortal enters these waters and returns. The people believed that Rhain’s sentries would capture anyone who dared,
grabbing their ankles and pulling them down below.” One side of his lips quirked up in a wry grin as he lowered himself to the spot beside me. “But Cas jumped in. Didn’t even think twice about it. Just dove right in, even though the girl had slipped under and hadn’t resurfaced.”
I turned back to the Bay. “Did he find her?”
“He did. Pulled her back to the water’s edge where Malik and—” He drew in a deep breath, stretching out a leg. “One of our friends was able to force the water from her lungs. The girl breathed. She lived. And those who were unaware of what Malik and Cas were, truly believed they were gods.”
I was happy to hear that the girl had lived, and I hoped that what happened to this town came long after her time. But my brain got stuck on something. Kieran had almost said a name for this friend, and I had a good idea who it was.
“Was it Shea who came here with you all?”
“What?” Kieran’s head snapped in my direction. “How do you know her name?” His eyes narrowed, and before I could respond, he muttered, “Alastir.”
I nodded. “Alastir told me about her. That Casteel was once engaged to his daughter.”
His features sharpened. “Alastir shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why? That was his daughter,” I argued. “He lost her, too, and before you get mad at him, he even told me he probably shouldn’t have brought her up. I haven’t said anything to Casteel.” Well, that was kind of true.
“But, of course, you have questions.” “I do,” I admitted.
Kieran slowly shook his head as he stared out over the Bay. “You’re not asking for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you, nonetheless. This time, I truly hope you listen.” His icy blue eyes met mine. “Don’t bring up Shea with Cas. That is a road you don’t want to travel with him. Ever.”
My brows lifted. “But she’s a part of him and—”
“And why does that matter to you?” he challenged. “This marriage will only be temporary, correct? Why do you need to know about those who shaped who he is today? That kind of knowledge is for those who plan on a future.”
I snapped my mouth shut as frustration boiled inside me. Kieran was right, but…
Sighing, I looked over my shoulder, able to see the upper walls of the fortress. Had Casteel cooled down? “Are you sure he’ll be okay?”
Kieran’s head inclined as he studied me. “Do you want an honest answer or one that will make this easier for you?”
“You said earlier that he’d be okay,” I pointed out as dread blossomed to life.
“He will be.” He paused. “For now.” “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that he’ll be okay for a little longer, but he needs to feed.
He’s gone too long.”
Dread pumped through me, alive and well. “When was the last time he fed?”
“I’m not sure, but it had to be when we were in Masadonia.” He dragged a hand over his head and then dropped it, glancing back to the water. “Normally, he’d be able to go for weeks without feeding, but he’s given you blood twice, and then he was wounded. That moved him closer to the edge.”
“He didn’t need to give me his blood last time.”
His gaze swiveled back to mine. “I know. I told him not to, but he did it anyway. He didn’t want to see you in pain.”
I sucked in a short breath. “And now he’s in pain because of that.
Because of me?”
“It’s not because of you, Penellaphe. It was his choice. Just as it has been his choice not to feed.”
“I still don’t get that.” Frustrated, I picked up a fistful of sand. “Why would he do this to himself? I felt his hunger, Kieran. It was intense, and the longer he goes, it will only get worse—”
“And you will be more at risk.”
I stilled, even though my heart thundered. “I thought he was the only person I was safe with. Isn’t that what you said?”
“You are, but when an Atlantian doesn’t feed, no one is safe. Not even those they care about or even love.”
Air left me in a singular rush. Love? “He doesn’t care for me.”
Kieran stared back at me. “If it helps you to believe that, then by all means, continue. But that doesn’t make it true.”
I glared at him. “And just because you spout vague statements doesn’t make whatever you’re saying true either.”
“He gave you his blood when you didn’t need it, just so you wouldn’t be in pain when you woke—”
“And so I didn’t delay in leaving New Haven!”
“Funny how we weren’t planning to leave the moment you woke anyway,” he replied. “Which you’re conveniently forgetting.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Even if that were the case, which it isn’t, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have been concerned over you being uncomfortable during our travels, would he? And if he didn’t care, he would’ve used a hundred different compulsions at this point, no matter how temporary, to keep you better controlled, something that would make all our lives easier.”
My eyes narrowed.
“He wouldn’t be marrying you, risking the ire of not just his entire kingdom but also his parents, who you will soon discover are not two people you want to anger just so you have a chance to make it through this alive, free from the Ascended and from him. If that is what you choose,” he went on. “But more importantly, he would’ve stuck to the plan he spent years cultivating, and we would’ve already been halfway to Carsodonia to exchange you for his brother. Yet, here we are. And the only reason why any of that changed is because once he got to know you, he started to care for you.”
I wanted Kieran to take back those words because they did things to my heart, and even worse, dangerous things to my mind.
“You’re annoying,” I muttered.
“The truth often is. But you want to know an even more annoying truth?”
“Not really.”
“Too bad, because you need to hear this. He cares for just like you care for him despite the lies and the betrayal,” Kieran stated. “That’s why, even when you were the Maiden, you shared your secrets with him and allowed him things you would’ve never permitted anyone else. That’s why you didn’t use that dagger strapped to your thigh this morning, even though you knew how to use it against an Atlantian. That’s why you want to know more about Shea. It’s why, even now, you are concerned about him.” His eyes flashed an intense blue. “And just so you know, the only reason I didn’t end your life the second I learned that you stabbed him in the heart is because he cares for you. Is that less vague enough for you, Penellaphe?”
My lips parted on a shaky inhale. I didn’t want to hear what he said. I didn’t want to recognize the truth of his words. Acknowledging them was… it felt irrevocable.
Because caring for Casteel meant more than just wanting him. It meant either forgiving or forgetting his lies and betrayals, and I didn’t know if that was right or wrong. Because him caring for me meant more than just an agreement or pretending, and the implications of all of that was…well, it was terrifying for a multitude of reasons. Kieran could be wrong. Casteel could care for me, but not deeply. While I would…oh, gods, I already knew what it meant for me to care for him—what I desperately wished wasn’t the case.
That I’d started falling in love with him when we first met and hadn’t stopped.
But beyond that, I was the Maiden—a person his people, his family, would most likely loathe. I was only half-Atlantian. I would age and die, and he would be who he was today for so many years, it would feel like an eternity to me.
I stared at the sand, feeling more out of my element now than I had since this whole thing started. “The night before I learned who he really was, I had already decided that I could no longer be the Maiden. It wasn’t just because of him. Maybe how I felt about him was the start of me realizing that I could never live in the skin of the Maiden, but I wanted to stay with him,” I admitted, my voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Even though I thought he was a Royal Guard and would have to basically go into hiding with me, I wanted to be with him—to stay with him somehow. Because he made me feel…. He made me feel like I was alive.” I swallowed hard. “I did care for him. I cared for him a lot.”
“He was Casteel then just like he’s Hawke now,” Kieran stated quietly, drawing my gaze to him. “And you know that. You just aren’t ready to accept it.”
I briefly squeezed my eyes shut. Still, caring for him could cause a chain of reactions I wouldn’t be able to prevent. Caring for him felt like I was betraying not just Vikter and Rylan and all of those who’d died because of him, but also myself. That I forgave his lies and his misdeeds. Still caring meant…
“Still caring for him would only lead to heartache,” I whispered, knowing the truth right then and there. I did care. I never stopped caring.
And acknowledging that felt as if I’d slipped under the black water.
“It doesn’t have to,” Kieran said. “But even so, sometimes, the heartbreak that comes with loving someone is worth it, even if loving that person means eventually saying goodbye to them.”
The roughness in his tone spoke more than his words shared. “You sound like you have experience with that.”
“I do.” A long moment of silence passed between us. “Do you know what happens when an Atlantian cares for someone?”
I shook my head, wanting to know more about this person that he’d loved but had to say goodbye to.
Kieran didn’t give me a chance. “They find the idea of feeding from someone else repellent. It’s too intimate for them to even consider. And if the partner is mortal? It usually takes the mortal proving to the other that it’s okay for them to feed, and in some cases, the Atlantian is lost to the darkness of hunger. That’s why he hasn’t fed.”
My heart thudded against my ribs as I told myself that couldn’t be the case with Casteel. It just couldn’t.
Kieran was quiet only for a few minutes. “Cas told me once that he felt as if he already knew you after speaking with you just a few times.”
I wiggled my toes in the sand once more. “I asked him about that.” “This is my surprised face,” Kieran murmured, and when I looked at
him, his expression was the same as always. Bored with a hint of amusement.
My lips twitched despite the insanity of our conversation as I turned back to the sparkling, sun-drenched midnight water. “He told me he believed it was the Atlantian blood in him, recognizing mine.”
“And you felt the same?”
I nodded. “Is that a possibility?”
“Possibly,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t think that’s the case. I think it’s something deeper than that. Something intangible, far rarer and stronger than bloodlines and even the gods. Something powerful enough that it has ushered in great change in the past.”
Tensing, I had a feeling I didn’t want to know what he thought. That whatever it was would be even more earth-shattering than what he’d already shared. It’d be words given life that I wouldn’t be able to control.
“I think you’re heartmates.”
