Chapter 25
KELTER
I've spent three days keeping her out of Zandrite's arms. And keeping my own hands off her.
Well, not completely. I keep her warm at night, wrapping her up in my arms after she falls asleep, tucked against my chest, holding back on all the ways I want to be close to her.
Or think I do. It's a mess in my head, my own feelings jumbled up with Eli's.
How do I know if I want her because he does, or because she's Ever, and I love her.
As a friend, like I always have. Or that's what I've always told myself—don't get attached. She's your ticket to Sonnet.
Not knowing makes every touch excruciating, but that can’t stop me from making Zandrite believe she’s mine, that I haven’t yet tired of her body. Or he’ll take her away.
He lets me come and go from the room, but I only step out when I have to. I don’t like to leave her under Fable’s watch. He could hurt her again. And she’s had enough pain.
I throw her over my shoulder and carry her through the passages each night, still easy despite her growing taller every day.
We’re forced to attend the Scrape in the same giant room the thrones are in, but in the evenings it’s transformed into an arena.
And Ever is forced to pretend she wants me.
Every action is to convince Zandrite to stay away from her a little longer.
He won’t take her until he thinks my desire for her is sated.
And I need him to separate Eli and me before he cracks and wants a turn with her, which requires his trust.
I sit in the throne next to him and run my fingers up and down her thighs while I lick the dripping, raw meat clean, keeping my cravings in check.
It’s enough to keep me nourished without eating the flesh.
We watch the Half Link men wrestle and tear each other apart, each vying to win their choice of woman, their Trophy.
Only one comes out alive. The other is scraped off the dirt the next morning, aptly leading to the name of the nightly fight: the Scrape.
But the bloody end to each night isn’t the worst part, nor is it how I hate myself through every minute of it. It’s how Ever pushes me away when we get back to our room. How she retreats to the wall to glare at me. I’d never put her through this if it weren’t an act to keep her safe from Zandrite.
I know she feels the connection too, though. Not only because she’s going through the same as I am, but because her heart beats so fast when I pull her close, and her breath catches when my hand slides down her side. She tries so hard not to feel it. But she can’t fight what this is.
The Scrape in the arena tonight will be no different, except that the pull is stronger every day now. I’m in true pain. If I don’t act on it tonight, that pain will become irreparable damage.
Then fatal—for both of us.
It’s late afternoon, judging by the cooling temperature. The screeching sound should be splitting our eardrums soon, as it does everyday before we leave for the arena. Covering my ears through the howl barely makes a difference. Whatever makes that sound must be miserable.
Ever sits against the wall in our room, looking up at me with that same need that I feel. To be close, to connect, to fill her so completely.
Could you take it down a godsdamn notch? Eli pushes into my head. I’ve got a list of a hundred ways to brutally kill you, and I’m adding to it by the minute.
I groan. You don’t hold back.
She’s mine. I shouldn’t have to.
She’s mine too. Haven’t you seen?
Eli’s normal forceful tone drops to a quiet threat. You don’t have her heart.
Neither do you.
That’s intentional! His heaving breaths cross into my mind with his shout.
Why should I stop her from loving me just because she can’t love you? I ask.
He doesn’t answer.
Because I have a damn good point.
I kneel down in front of Ever and push the dirt-crusted hair from her face. “Are you doing okay?”
She scowls at me, those creepy-beautiful indigo eyes practically ripping out my soul.
“Of course not. My body has a mind of its own, and I haven’t eaten in three days because there’s nothing but raw meat available.
” She sniffs back a sob. “And I think I really am getting taller. Everything hurts, and I can barely walk without tripping over my feet.”
She can hardly hold it in anymore—same as me—every breath stunted, every muscle tight, demanding release. I don’t see how she hasn’t figured it out yet.
Eli finally answers, quiet, solemn words in my head. I’ve seen the way she reacts to your touch. It’s because she’s suffering inside.
And you know she can’t resist much longer. It will kill her.
I know, he admits.
I lift her chin. “Taller looks good on you.”
Tears slip from her eyes as she hardens her glare.
So you agree she needs me? I ask, drying her cheeks.
Back away from her. You’re making her feel worse. I feel it through her, and her emotions are already all over the place from this. And I didn’t want to let her go to you to begin with.
But you did.
Only because being at a distance from you through this would kill her, Eli argues.
That doesn’t change that she’s here with me.
And me, asshole. You think I’d let her walk into your arms while I’m more than a room away? We would have arrived together if it weren’t for the damn snowstorm. She’s only here because she has to be close to you, but I’m the one who will take care of her needs. And get your fucking fingers off her.
My hand falls from under her chin. You followed her? Where are you? This is why you’ve been blocking your location for days?
Give her back my knife, and I’ll let you live another day. I know you took it back from Fable days ago and blocked me. I hear everything through these walls.
He only thinks he hears all that goes on. I know how to wait for him to be distracted. I feel for his knife. Who knows what she’ll do with this thing. She’s unpredictable.
Give it back. Now!
Okay, alright.
I pull the knife from a side pocket. “Here. You might need this.”
She snatches it from my hand, slides off the sheath and presses the tip into my belly. “How long have you had this? Why didn’t you give it to me? Why?!”
“This is why!” I gesture to my stomach, but she holds steady.
Eli’s voice slithers back into my head like a parasite, eating at my nerves. You know what I could do with her hand while that knife is against your flesh.
I’m aware. I take in a breath, pulling back from the blade. One thought and he could kill me by her hand. I can’t think of a more poetic, fucked-up way to go.
I wouldn’t. For her.
I scoff. I’m not sure I can say the same.
Which is why you don’t deserve her, he grinds out.
Ever pulls the knife back. “I-I didn’t mean it. I’m tired. It hurts.”
“You might need to try the meat,” I say, bracing for a scream. But she only drops her forehead to her knees and skips straight to a silent sob.
I shove my thoughts toward Eli, my patience lost. You say I don’t deserve her, yet you’re here and not under Zandrite’s watch, and you’ve let her go hungry for three days. She’s shaking. She can barely hold herself together.
You idiot, Eli scolds. She’s not shaking from hunger. At least not for food. She’s in pain and needs a good fuck. She needs me.
You can’t even touch her. I put an arm around her, squeezing gently. I can take care of her. I’m in the same situation. I can barely breathe.
You will not touch her like that, Eli commands. And you’re a dead man if you hold her again tonight.
I send him a mental shrug. She gets cold.
You just want your hands on her.
I rub my face. All of his ancestors’ memories in my head are enough without his live commentary. Do you blame me?
I will break your bones one by one until you forget what she looks like.
You’d feel that, I remind him.
Eli sighs. I know you get yourself off while she sleeps. I prefer that over you even breathing on her, which says a lot considering I feel that shit every night too.
No privacy anymore. Some things I can’t block him from. It only takes the edge off. This is about connection, and my hand doesn’t cut it.
Heat radiates from within her, right through her cold skin.
She feels the same painful desire as I do, as though everything beneath my skin were on the verge of shattering.
I know it. This isn’t about love. We need to be together before we’re both dead, whether Eli likes it or not.
We can’t help it, not while we’re linking.