Chapter Thirty-Two #2
Something broke through the emptiness inside me. Something that burned and twisted and gnawed at my insides.
Anger.
I hadn’t realized Saed would hear me, but his voice drifted from behind.
“No. She should not have been attacked.”
It sounded so simple, but he didn’t understand.
“She was under my protection. I left her. If I had been there…”
“Then perhaps you would both be dead. Or she would be the one in pain watching you heal from a mortal wound. Or the attack would have happened another time, in another place.”
I released my irritation at his logic in a growl. I hated that he was right. And if the attack had taken place somewhere else, when Zharrek hadn’t been there to protect her when I wasn’t…
I swallowed, just as irritated over the fact that it had been him to save her. At least, according to her.
Silence stretched, growing heavy as time passed, and then there was a shift in the bond, a spark that had been missing before, and I took a step forward before I could stop myself.
“Rhydek?”
It was the barest whisper, but it sent me to my knees. Keeping my touch as light as possible, I traced a finger down the uninjured side of her face as her eyelashes fluttered.
“Taryn.”
Her chest hitched, water leaking from her eyes as she reached up to grip my hand and hold it to her cheek. She had always been small next to me, but strength had made her presence larger. Now, the weakness in her grip reminded me how fragile she was, as if almost losing her hadn’t made that clear.
Pain rippled through the bond, and I felt her try to suppress it, but I pushed past her attempted block as I leaned closer.
“The good and the bad, remember?”
My voice was rough, but I knew she understood when her chest hitched again. Her eyes opened, unfocused and watery until they locked on me.
And then everything inside me shattered.
I bowed my head over her hand, relief hitting me like a physical blow. It was followed by everything else, weighing me down until I felt like I’d never be able to lift my head again.
Fear.
Guilt.
Joy.
Anger.
“You’re alive.”
It was stupid, obvious, but it was the only thing I could manage.
She gave a short huff before grunting in pain.
“Dying is easy. I’m too stubborn for that.”
Despite her pain and the fear I felt lingering beneath the bravado, she tried to soften it with a joke.
I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead to the back of her hand before opening them again and forcing myself to look at her. If she could be brave, so could I.
And I needed to admit the truth.
“I failed you.”
I was certain of it. There was no argument to be made, no excuse, and yet I watched her face soften. I tried to deny her before she could voice whatever she was thinking.
“I left you despite the risk. I should have known better. I—”
The words got caught in my throat, and for a moment I couldn’t get enough air to speak. The rest of what I needed to say clawed at me, trying to escape despite the fear that it would destroy what had grown between us.
“I am the bringer of death.”
There it was.
The truth Shaira’s death had taught me.
The truth I had lived by until I was stupid enough to believe I was stronger than a bond.
Shaira’s memory rose in my mind, and I sucked in a deep breath. Taryn’s usually sweet, crisp scent was marred with the metallic tang of blood and the bitter sharpness of the salves, hitting me with inescapable truth.
“I had thought that if I kept distance, if I treated this as a duty, it would not matter.”
My gaze stayed locked onto Taryn’s.
“That you would not matter.”
Exhaling, I let my eyes wander over her injuries.
“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t keep myself from caring, and this is what happens.”
My hands trembled and her fingers tightened around mine. My tail snuck up to wrap around her knee, as if I held her in enough places, it might keep her from being taken away.
By force, or choice.
“Shaira was the omega I had planned to claim. An omega who chose the path of a warrior. I let myself believe that would keep her safe.”
The words came faster, like when I broke what held them back, they all had to come.
“She died because of it.”
I paused, staring at my hand on Taryn’s cheek. My dark, scarred skin, the calloused hands of a warrior, against her pale softness.
“I will not ask your forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I do not deserve you.”
For a long moment, she remained quiet. I knew she watched me, stared at me with those startling blue eyes, but I couldn’t meet her gaze and risk seeing what had never been there before.
Fear.
Her hand moved, and I forced myself to release her cheek. Pulling away was the smart thing for her to do. Every instinct in me screamed to hold her tight and beg her to give me another chance, but I couldn’t.
I stilled as she copied what I’d done and placed her palm against my face. When I refused to look up she reached higher and wrapped her fingers over one ridge and tugged, and I finally gave in so she wouldn’t hurt herself trying to make me meet her gaze.
“You’re wrong.”
Her voice was soft, the bond calm. I’d thought she’d blocked me out again, but I realized it was still open and full of understanding.
I shook my head, rejecting her acceptance.
“No.”
She tried to smile but flinched when the torn skin of her cheek stretched.
“You are.”
Her fingers brushed my jaw, barely there, but it felt like I’d been branded.
“You didn’t kill her, and you didn’t cause this.”
I growled, unable to form the words I needed to convince her, wishing for once she wouldn’t be stubborn.
“Stop it, Rhydek.”
She took hold of my ridge again, voice sharp. I’d never heard her speak like that, and it cut through my growl, forcing me to listen.
To feel.
“You didn’t stab me. You don’t bring death to those around you. You can’t push me away now because you’re scared again. You’re mine, remember? I claimed you.”
My lips parted and I stared at her in shock. I couldn’t figure out what to say as her anger burned in the bond, because I couldn’t refute her.
I was hers as much as she was mine.
She was unyielding despite the pain I felt threading through her, holding my gaze.
“You don’t get to decide that caring is the same thing as killing, Rhydek.”
My heart clenched because the cursed thing wanted to believe her.
“It is not a decision,” I said. “It is a pattern.”
Huffing, she released me and dropped her arm to her side.
“Then break it.”
The simple answer landed harder than anything else she had said. I stared at her, the female who had nearly died, who should have hated me for leaving her to face her attackers alone, and said the only thing I could.
“I don’t know how.”
Her expression softened and the flicker of a smile turned the corners of her lips.
“And you won’t figure it out if you don’t stop running from it.”
I swallowed hard, my chest aching. Maybe it wasn’t fate. Maybe it was just my own fear.
“I can’t lose you.”
The admission came before I could stop it. It laid me bare to my bones, but I didn’t regret saying it.
Another huff and a smile despite the pain.
“Then don’t.”
Simple.
As if it were that easy.
As if I had that kind of control.
She shifted and winced, agony flaring through the bond. I reacted without thinking, my hand going to her shoulder, but freezing when I saw the wound again.
“If Zharrek hadn’t stopped him, he’d have put the blade through my heart, but he was so close Zharrek couldn’t help hitting me too. How bad is it?”
I looked at the slice through her cheek, the edges red and swollen. It had skipped her neck, but the line went through her shoulder and the upper portion of her arm as well.
“Saed can fix it.”
She searched my face before lifting a brow.
“That bad?”
My lips twitched and I leaned down to brush them over hers, relieved she was still there to tease me.
“It makes you look like a fierce warrior who faced death and survived.”
I made sure she felt my honesty, and the uninjured side of her face lifted, the bond filling with warmth.
“Then I don’t want him to get rid of it.”
For a breath I worried she’d regret the scar or change her mind once she saw the extent of the wound, but her resolve felt firm.
“Then we tell him to leave the scar.”
Her hand stroked the side of my face before she gripped my collar and pulled me closer.
“Now, kiss me like you mean it this time.”
Her breath brushed my skin, making me want things I couldn’t have while she was injured, but I felt the answering surge within her. We’d already learned to come together physically, and it was more than time to show her I could meet her in other ways that mattered.
“I don’t deserve to kiss you like that.”
Eyes narrowing, she made a noise in her throat.
“Good thing I didn’t ask if you deserved it.”
A quiet huff of something almost like laughter escaped me, half broken, but real. And for the first time since I had carried her down from the surface, fear didn’t consume everything.
It was still there. I was sure it would always be. But it could no longer rule my decisions.
Because she was still there, still choosing me, and I never wanted her to regret it.