Chapter Nine
Ari
Broken Choices
My hand stings and his cheek is red. The only thing louder than my heartbeat is the silence stretching between us.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to kiss him.
And that’s the worst part.
I don’t run. I don’t chase him out of my apartment slam the door in his face. I don’t cast the spell surging at the tip of my tongue, the one that would knock him flat on his ass and give me five precious minutes to breathe.
Instead, I just stand there, trembling with too many feelings and not enough sense.
“You should go,” I say finally. He doesn’t move. “Malichai,” I whisper. “Please.”
That gets him. He nods slowly, like it physically hurts him, and then he walks out without another word. The door clicks shut, and I crumble.
Not to the floor. Not into tears. But something inside me cracks.
I walk numbly to the couch and sit. My hands are in my lap, but my body feels like it doesn’t fit right anymore. Like it’s been stretched to accommodate something it was never meant to hold.
But it was.
The truth is, I’ve felt it. The bond. And I can’t deny it anymore.
Not after that moment in the alley. Not after the dream last night where I became flame and shadow and scale, and a voice whispered, you’re mine. And definitely not today.
I wanted it, him, and I still do.
And that’s what makes this unbearable. Because Malichai Veythronn may have saved me from a hundred threats I’ll never know about ... but he also stole something from me.
My choice.
My right to feel the bond. To decide if I wanted him, if I could grow into this ... whatever this is. If I could handle a mate. A dragon. A lifetime of shadow and fire.
And the thing that pisses me off the most about his deception? I probably would’ve said yes. If he had just asked. That’s what hurts the most. That he didn’t trust me enough to believe I could handle it. That he believed protecting me meant lying to me.
****
It’s after midnight when I finally move.
I shower. Try to eat and fail. I sit at my kitchen counter and stare at the bottle of fae wine I’ve been saving for a “special night.”
I guess trauma and magical betrayal count. I pour a glass. Sip. Wait for the warmth to hit. It doesn’t help. So, I do the next stupid thing on the list.
I call Celeste.
“Shit,” she says, breathless when she gets to my apartment. “Is it done? Did you murder him? Are you burying the body and need an alibi?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Then you look like hell for nothing. What happened?”
I hesitate for a moment and then I tell her everything. The spell. The bond. The lie. The betrayal I feel.
She is quiet for a long time. “Damn,” she says finally. “Okay. That’s ... a lot.”
“I want to hate him,” I say, my voice sad. “But I don’t.”
“I know.”
“I hit him.”
“I would’ve hit him harder.”
“But I still want him, Celeste. I don’t even know what to do with that.”
“Sweetheart...” Her voice softens. “Wanting him doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest. He made a terrible choice, but you’re allowed to want more than just vengeance. You’re allowed to want answers. Closure. Him. All of it.”
“I’m scared.”
“Of him?”
“No.” I pause. “Of what it means if I don’t walk away.”
She doesn’t say anything. Because she knows. If I let this bond in, if I claim it, him, it changes everything. I’ll never be just me again. I’ll be us.
Bound to a man who’s feared. Powerful. Loyal. Vicious when crossed. Unforgiving.
But also, a man who’s spent years choosing me in silence. Who gave up the only thing that’s ever mattered to his kind, an untainted legacy, for a half-human girl with mismatched eyes and a messy apartment.
Who brought me dinner. Who didn’t push. Who waited. Even when it tore him apart. And maybe that’s love, too.
Not just fire and fate. But choosing to stay, even when it hurts.
****
I don’t sleep again.
But just before dawn, I grab my jacket and walk. To him.
Because if I’m going to burn for anyone, it might as well be the dragon who’s already on his knees.