Chapter 31
Falling asleep was out of the question.
My stomach was as full as it was going to be today. I’d taken my clothes off, had put on my nightgown, and I’d drawn, too—that little device that Master Talik had hidden from me in his workshop. I’d done all I could do to tire myself, and I should have been tired already from the trial alone.
Yet it was almost midnight and I was tossing and turning like the inside of my mind was at war. The battles were indeed bloody.
The truth was simple and I hadn’t once felt it as clearly as I felt it this night: I didn’t want to be alone.
I’d never felt it before because I never was when Jinx was alive.
After, there simply wasn’t anyone else in the world I’d rather share my time with.
Alone became a good thing, especially when I could grieve in peace, cry when I needed to, smile when it felt right without having to have an excuse for it.
Now, though, things had changed.
Now, I knew March existed.
I kept waiting for him to knock on my door, minute after minute. He didn’t.
So I decided to go knock on his.
It was almost like I’d convinced myself that this wasn’t really real, that I wasn’t really going to walk out of my room when I opened the door. I wasn’t really going to step barefoot into the hallway, go all the way to his door.
I did.
It was quiet out there, the air colder. Maybe I should have put something around my shoulders, at least. I should have worn shoes.
Or maybe I should have stayed in my room altogether—and it was those thoughts that kept me frozen there, staring at the polished wood of the door like a fool, never moving a single inch as my heartbeat sped up little by little.
Stay—
Leave—
Knock—
Run—
The feel of the wood underneath my knuckles startled me. I had no idea when I’d fisted my hand, when I’d raised it, when I’d slammed it against the door.
Two seconds, and it opened.
March stood before me with his hair disheveled, a pair of red pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, nothing else.
I did it—I did it—I did it—
“What are you doing?”
His whisper cut me in half.
His eyes roaming down my body as they became darker and darker put me back together.
The clenched muscles of his torso and his fisted hands set me on fire.
“I’m…knocking.” It wasn’t the smartest thing I could have said, granted, but I had nothing else. I’d come out of my room and to his, and I’d battled thoughts in my head like they were my enemies, and I’d knocked.
Because how was I supposed to find the right words to tell him that I didn’t want to be alone badly enough that my skin felt too tight on me in that room?
March closed his eyes, lowered his head, took in a deep breath and tightened his muscles so that I saw them flexing. A little light from the hallway fell on his smooth skin and revealed to me all his shapes and curves and edges.
“What for?” he then said, his voice dangerously low.
I’d have preferred if he’d have been pissed off, if he’d shouted.
But he said, “You want to be distracted again?” That smile.
Awful, awful, twisted. “You want me on my knees for you?” Every gear in my body turned the wrong way for a tick. “You want pleasure—is that it?”
I did.
I did want distraction and pleasure, and I definitely wanted him on his knees, too—but that wasn’t why I was here, I didn’t think.
“Presence,” I whispered despite my better judgment.
Despite the cruel way he was looking at me—and maybe that was the problem.
Maybe I was so used to being looked like I was a wonder of the world by him before that now I couldn’t stand this.
I couldn’t stand him not being fascinated by me. I was that weak.
“It feels like…like I’m disappearing,” I said a second later because he refused to even move a single inch, and I had no idea where the words came from, only that they were true.
At least March wasn’t smiling like that anymore. He wasn’t fisting his hands as tightly. He wasn’t looking at me with mockery—only like he wanted to figure me out just now.
So he asked, “You want me to reassure you that you’re not?”
I shook my head. “I just don’t want to disappear alone.” Because I wasn’t going to believe him if he tried to reassure me. I didn’t even believe myself.
Our eyes stayed locked for a long moment.
“I don’t trust you,” March then said. It hurt, even if I expected it.
“I know,” I said anyway. “You don’t have to. I trust you.” And that had to be enough, at least for right now.
Suddenly he was in front of me, his hand around my jaw.
Suddenly there were barely two inches between our chests, and the rhythm of our breathing matched.
Suddenly March’s other hand was around the side of my waist, and he was pulling me inside his room.
The door behind me closed—maybe he pushed it with his foot. But my back was against it the next second, and March was there still. March was everywhere around me, overwhelming all my senses, and my hands found their way onto his naked chest. His heart beat as fast as mine underneath my palm.
Hearing it, my skin didn’t feel as tight as a moment ago.
“Tell me, then. Tell me to my face. What is it that you want?” he whispered against my lips, and I had raised my head a little, too. “I’ll know if you lie. I’ll know.”
“I want…”
Words escaped me. I knew if I said anything other than the truth, he would know. I knew he would never let me stay—and I needed to stay.
But what was the truth?
I licked my lips. Tried to pick it apart. Said, “I want to belong to you so I don’t have to belong to me.” For tonight—and maybe for tomorrow, too. This was the only truth I knew to put into words right now.
March closed his eyes. Breathed in deeply, held the air in his lungs. He still held my face and my waist. His heart still beat faster than mine, which had calmed down somewhat by his proximity.
I wanted to give him time, except I couldn’t really wait much longer. The suspense was killing me, so I said, “March.” His eyes opened, pupils dilated. “Will you have me?” A simple question. That way he could say yes or no and there wouldn’t be any more wondering.
But March searched my face like he was trying to memorize it, instead of deciding my fate for me. Because that’s what this felt like. I was at his mercy.
“You’re trying to escape yourself,” he said. “I will not be where you go to hide.” Yet he still stayed there, his hands on me, his eyes on my face, red and brown and beautiful.
Time’s Teeth, he was making this really hard on me—but I wasn’t about to give up. I couldn’t—where would I even go, if I wasn’t here?
So I licked my lips and said, “You say you’ll know if I lie, right?” He nodded, jaw clenching. “Here’s my truth, then: I never feel more at ease being me than when I’m standing next to you.”
Surprise registered in his eyes. He looked at me like he was shocked for a second, and whatever he saw in my face softened his expression.
“There. That’s my truth. Tell me yours and be done with it,” I added. But my knees were still shaking and they wouldn’t stop until I knew if he wanted me to stay or leave.
March raised his brows. “My truth?” he asked, and that little grin that crept up his face was different. My heart skipped a little beat. “My truth is that I miss you, and I want to hate you because of it, but somehow that only makes me miss you more. It’s that senseless.”
Even though he smiled, I knew he was hurting.
Something inside me was missing. I felt the clear space where it had been before. I knew I wanted to hurt with him, but instead the only pain I felt was from the size of that emptiness.
“Kiss me, Heartling.” So that maybe that way we could both stop. Maybe that way we could both escape.
For once, March obeyed. His lips crashed against mine.
The way the world fell away within seconds must have been magic.
My arms wrapped around his neck and I fell against his chest, completely surrendered.
I had told him the truth—the entire truth.
I was never more comfortable than when he had his arms around me tightly like this.
It was never easier to be me. I was just glad he believed me, considering he openly told me he didn’t trust me.
His tongue in my mouth tasted like everything.
I’d never thought about the Everstill much before but I was sure this was better.
His lips were soft, his teeth gentle as they grazed mine.
His hands moved up and down my back, then he squeezed my ass, pressed me hard against himself with a moan that I felt all the way to my bones.
There was nothing in the world like March, if I’d had doubts until now. Nothing at all.
Then he let go of me all of a sudden.
I wasn’t able to stand by myself without losing balance, so I fell against the door and watched him, surprised, aroused, burning with need. Holy Hour, he looked better than anything my eyes would ever witness. Tousled hair, naked torso, and that bulge in his pajama bottoms from his hard cock…
My poor heart was fighting to break out of me as he slowly walked back toward the bed.
I didn’t much care to look at his room, but his bed was across the door, just like in both my old rooms. He never once broke eye contact as he moved ever so slowly, his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyes on fire as they roamed up and down my body.
Then he sat at the edge of the bed.
“Come here,” he ordered, and it was like he pulled at my limbs with invisible strings. I was moving, shaking knees and all, feasting my insatiable eyes on the looks of him. Time’s Teeth, how did he even exist? Something so perfect shouldn’t have been possible.
“Stop.”
I did. My feet were glued to the wooden floor instantly, and I was still three feet away from him.
March closed his eyes for a moment, rubbed his face. Pushed his hair back. But when he looked at me, he didn’t seem calmer or more composed. On the contrary—he looked hungry.