Mara #2
My tail sways behind me, slow and agitated, the tassel flicking back and forth. I turn to face him.
“You’re not finished with me yet.” His voice has dropped an octave, dangerous now.
“I get that you’re pissed off. You have every right to be.”
He lifts his hand and points one stern finger in my face.
My lion hisses inside me. My tail cracks up from behind me to slap him.
A blue-gold shield closes around his face before the tassel lands, magic springing to his defense.
My tail bounces off it and snaps back behind me.
He grins at me, smug despite the tears in his eyes, his finger still in my face.
“But don’t you ever speak like that to me again,” he growls, his voice low and hard. “I don’t care how angry you are at me. Don’t you ever deny my love for you.”
“I’m leaving you.”
“No the fuck you’re not.” His magic crackles louder.
“Put a shield on the door then,” I tell him, stepping back from his finger, my nostrils flaring. “Force me to stay with you like I’m your little prisoner. Your plaything.”
His finger drops, and his head drops with it. He stands there with his hand at his side and his eyes on the floor, and I smell the shame coming off him before he speaks—hot and bitter.
“I won’t lock you in with me.” His voice comes out low, defeated. “But I’m asking you to give me another chance. I’m sorry, Mara. I’m so sorry.”
He lifts his eyes to mine, wet and remorseful, and I’ve seen this look before. He knows he’s hurt me and can’t take it back.
“You can’t stand here and tell me this is unforgivable.”
I look away from him, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. “It’s not unforgivable, Aaron.”
I force myself to hold his stare.
“But I’m not staying with you. I want a home. I want cubs. I want a real mate bond. I’m not pretending we have what we don’t anymore.”
“And you can’t have that and stay with me, Mara?” His voice has gone thin, stretched to breaking. “Give me a chance. Trust me.”
“I did trust you.”
He goes quiet.
He stands there with his hands at his sides, just looking at me, and the words hit him.
He breaks. His whole body gives at once, shoulders caving inward, knees going out from under him, and he goes down onto the floor in a slow broken fold at my feet.
His head bows into his hands. His hands come up to cover his face like he can’t stand to have me see him.
“If you leave me it will kill me,” he says from behind his hands, the words muffled but clear enough to make my heart squeeze.
“I love you, Aaron,” I tell him, and my voice stays steady. “But I’m not taking this from you anymore.”
“Okay.” His voice cracks. “You want me to grovel, Mara?”
He drops his hands from his face and reaches for my waist. I step back and shake my head.
“No. No.”
He freezes with his hands out, fingers splayed, reaching for something he can’t have.
“We will see each other on campus. And when you’ve removed the spell, and you have a home for us, I’ll come home.”
Tears spill down his face. His magic pulses around him in erratic bursts, mirroring his distress.
“Mara, please—“
“I know you aren’t going to let me pack. I’ll send my brothers to collect my things.” I step around him, giving him a wide berth.
I head for the door and his hand shoots out, closing around my arm.
“Mara—“
“Let go of my arm, Aaron.” My voice drops to a growl.
He doesn’t. He crawls to me on his knees, his hand still wrapped around my wrist, and he looks up at me with eyes so broken I almost give in.
“I’ll fix it now,” he says, his voice breaking on each word. “I’ll go to Levi. I’ll have him start breaking ground.”
My tail lifts behind me, comes forward, and wraps around his fingers, and pulls his hand off my arm. The tassel flicks against his wrist—a goodbye.
“Then I’ll be ready to come home when it’s ready.”
I walk to the door.
He rises behind me. I feel his magic climb in the air of the suite, restless and live, the blue-gold of it pushing against my shoulder, asking me to turn around.
“I can’t do this, Mara,” he says, and his voice is climbing, desperation making it crack. “I can’t let you leave me. I can’t live without you. The mate bond—“
“It’s going to hurt me more, Aaron.”
My tail lifts again and the tassel brushes across his cheek. Aaron catches the tassel with one hand and pulls it to his lips and kisses it, his mouth lingering there.
“I love you, my beautiful lion,” he murmurs, his voice wet with tears. “I promise you, I’ll get you home. As soon as possible. If I have to figure out how to magically build the cabin myself.”
He kisses the tassel again, his lips trembling against the fur. I pull it away.
His eyes lift to mine, and they have gone hard, something dangerous flickering behind them.
“I love you too, Mara.” His voice drops low, a warning in it. “How long do you think I’ll let this go on before I break.”
A shiver runs up the back of my neck, raising every hair on my body. I catch his scent in the next breath and my lion snaps to attention. It’s not the grief-scent he had a moment ago. There’s something sharp in it now, low and dangerous.
“I hurt you, I’m not denying it,” he says. “But you want to hurt me back. Understandable.”
He rises to his feet. His magic twitches at his fingertips, blue-gold sparks dancing, and he closes his hands into fists, fighting his magic back.
“Let me open a portal for you.”
“I’d rather walk.”
He sucks in a hard breath.
I walk to the door, open it, and step out into the hall. The air outside our suite feels different—colder, emptier.
Behind me I hear him hit the floor. He gags, the sound wet and broken, like he’s being torn apart from the inside. My own stomach lurches. I gag too, my hand flying to my mouth, the pull of the mate bond making me sick with him. I keep walking.
I find the stairs and run down fast, my footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
I reach the exit doors and his voice comes down the stairwell after me, bouncing off the walls.
“I’m going to get you back, Mara. And you better hope no one gets hurt for what you’ve decided to do.”
I push the door open and step out into the cool evening air, the campus emptying around me, the lamps coming on in the courtyard one by one. I look at the tree line at the far side of the grounds, then break into a run.
The wind hits my face, pulling my hair back. I cross the courtyard, my feet pounding against the pavement, then the edge of the field, grass whipping against my legs, and finally the tree line takes me in.
I reach the first tree and my claws extend with a soft snick, digging into the bark as I climb.
The wind hits my face harder up here, pulling my hair back in a wild tangle.
My dress catches on a limb and I hear it tear and I don’t care.
My tail works behind me for balance, whipping left and right as I change direction.
Low branches whip past my ears, leaving scratches I’ll feel tomorrow.
I have to do this. I know I’m doing the right thing.
Or that’s what I’m telling myself.