Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
ARA
It’s been two days since my breakdown, and I avoid Tate as much as I can.
I don’t meet his eyes. I make sure to leave the room before anyone else.
Since we are no longer competing, there is less training.
When Tate lets me know he’ll pause my training for a few days too, I’m nothing but glad. Mostly.
I miss him, but I try to convince myself that he did me a favor. The fates didn’t plan a happy ending for us, and that won’t change.
I walk next to Joel, and we are on the way to the refectory. Ever since my breakdown, he hovers around me, looking at me like he expects me to crumple again. It’s driving me nuts.
Someone laughs, and I look up.
Two female riders stand in the corridor ahead, next to Jared and Tate. I recognize one of them as the woman who went looking for Tate months ago at one of the outposts.
I shouldn’t care. It’s the confirmation I needed. It’s abso-fucking-lutely great if he’s moved on and there is nothing to Jared’s words. If…
But there is pain. Pressure, like someone wrapped his hand around my heart and squeezed. A damning jolt like I missed a step.
The woman throws her head back and laughs again, only to flutter her lashes at Tate a moment later.
She taps his chest playfully, and there is a twist in my chest that is anything but pretty.
Joel touches my shoulder, and I only now realize I’ve stopped in the middle of the hallway, my eyes glued to Tate.
His demeanor is as stoic as always, but she can’t keep her damn hands off him.
I glare at the disgusting appendage, currently attached to his arm. When my eyes come back up, I find Tate’s gaze on me, a barely there smile curling the corners of his mouth. So he shakes my hand off, but her hands can be all over him?
My blood starts to boil.
Message received. So much for all the guilt and pain of the last days.
Bastard.
My skin heats. I walk away and ignore Joel calling my name.
I’ll not give Tate the satisfaction of turning into a fireball in front of his eyes.
But he follows me. I feel his presence behind me, and quicken my steps. I barely set a foot into the deserted corridor to the sleeping quarters when I realize my mistake. I whirl around, but he is already there, stalking toward me like a wolf scenting blood in the snow.
His gaze is intense and fixed on me, and he still has that tiny smile on his face, as if all of this amuses him. I see red.
Instead of backing away, I move forward, my blood boiling. His smile widens when I push him.
Oh, he finds this entertaining? How dare he make me believe he cares only to dismiss me? How dare he let her touch him?
I keep pushing him, and he lets me, only to spin us around lightning-quick once we reach the wall. His body cages me in, his arms braced against the wall on either side of me. I swallow.
“You only have to say it,” he growls.
“Fuck you.”
“A damn shame, change one of those words, and we both get what we want,” he purrs.
“If you touch me, I’ll remove your hands—permanently.”
“And here I thought we were making progress. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you until you beg me to.”
He gives me a smirk that makes me want to bite him … hard. His grin widens like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
His presence, his scent, his magic, the heat of his body … he is all around me, muddling my senses, drugging me. A small gasp leaves my lips, and he shifts closer.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” I shake my head in denial of what I see in his eyes.
“Just … just go,” I rasp.
“Are you sure?” He looks down at his chest, where my hands are fisted in his shirt. How did they get there? I let go and cross my arms to keep them from reaching out again. He smirks.
“Who is now not able to keep her hands off?” His voice is low and seductive, and I have to lock my muscles to keep from leaning in. He is so close. His breath caresses my neck, and I just know my knees will go weak if his lips make contact. I close my eyes.
His chuckle is dark and sultry, and my eyes pop open at the sound.
My breath is shallow, too fast. My head falls back against the stones, baring my throat, as if in surrender. His eyes flare.
“Say it,” he whispers.
I roll my head from side to side, denying him. And myself. Because this will not end well. There is no future for us, and letting him close only to have to let him go will destroy me.
“You want me,” he breathes onto my skin, and I shudder. “If I’d touch you, we both know what I would find, how fast you would come undone for me.” His eyes trace over my skin, where it pebbles at his words, and his voice turns husky. “And you would let me, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t say anything, because let’s face it, he is right.
“But unlike you, I keep my word!” He pushes off the wall, taking a few steps back. “You might want to take your time. You look flushed.” He turns and strides off.
Asshole.
I stay where I am, my chest heaving like I just came back from our morning run, my whole body still humming from his closeness. My core pulses and throbs with the need … for him.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“I never thought you’d be cruel.” My eyes fly open, and Mariel steps out of the shadow next to the staircase.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know that Joel loves you, right?”
I stare at her. “What?” I laugh. “He loves me like a brother, nothing else.” I shake my head at her.
“No, Ara, he doesn’t, and that is why your behavior is…” She shakes her head. “How can you get his hopes up one minute only to be with him in the next?” She tilts her head in the direction Tate just left.
“Mariel, you have it all wrong. I’ve known Joel all my life, and there is nothing between us.” I cross my arms. “And I was not with Tate in any way.”
“I have eyes, Ara. Both of you were that close”—she lets her fingers nearly touch—“to ripping each other’s clothes off. And just a few days ago, you let Joel hold you while you cried and crashed in his arms.”
“Joel knows there is nothing between us but friendship.”
“So you don’t love him?”
“I do love him … like a brother. And he knows, Mariel. He knows about Tate, and he has always known that I won’t end up with him.”
“Why? Isn’t he good enough for you?” She suddenly sounds accusing.
I shake my head at her. “No.” I sigh. “I’m promised to someone. I have been since I was a little girl, and he knows.”
She gapes at me before shaking her head. “Betrothals can be broken.”
“No.” I give her a sad smile. “Believe me, there is nothing but death freeing me from this one.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” A snort escapes at my choice of words, and I bite my lip to keep in the sob that wants to follow. “I screwed up so bad, Mariel.” I give her a sad smile.
“So something is going on with our centurion.” She watches me. “I figured as much, with all that tension between you two. Do you love him?”
I give her a long look. “I’m promised to his brother.”
Mariel’s eyes widen. “Fuck.”
“You can say that again.” My shoulders slump.