Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
TATE
Was pressuring her into a confession wrong? Probably. Do I regret it? Not at all. She is all I ever want, and knowing I’m not alone soothes something inside me I didn’t know needed soothing.
However, her tears are killing me. I still don’t understand her sadness or her reluctance to let me in. But I know what her body craves, and I can give it to her.
She tips over the edge, bursting into flames, but they don’t burn me. I pull her up against my chest, regretting now that I didn’t take the time to fully undress her.
I contain her gift so she doesn’t set the room aflame and claim her lips in a desperate kiss.
And while her body still quivers and shakes around me, I follow.
I come so hard my vision blanks, and for a moment, my world comprises only her in my arms, our labored breaths, and my blissful release into her body.
The room is filled with panting silence and the smell of charred wood. It feels like the aftermath of an explosion. Surreal and different, with no chance of going back to how it was before. Not that I want to.
The moment Ara pulls away from me, sorting herself out, I can nearly see her stacking up the stones of the wall separating us, but I’m done with that.
I dress quickly, ready to stop her as soon as she moves for the door.
“Talk to me, sunshine.”
She flinches.
“Yell if you must, curse me to the mists and back, but fucking talk to me, please.”
“I heard you, Tate.” She sounds tired, defeated.
“I heard your conversation with your brother about what a good lay I am, your plan to use me, and that I mean nothing to you.” A sob catches in her throat.
“But then you act like you care, and I doubt what I heard, make excuses for you, feel guilty … only for you to push me away again like I mean nothing to you…” She angrily brushes at the tears running down her cheeks, but steps back when I reach for her.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t talk…” I start, but then remember the conversation we had weeks ago, the one where I tried to convince him she meant nothing to me. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” She laughs humorlessly and tries to get past me to the door, but I block her. “Just let me go.”
“Ara, I need you—”
“For your damn trials, I’m aware,” she grumbles, and my irritation grows.
“…to fucking listen to me.” When she crosses her arms and glares at me, I want to shake her and kiss her at the same time.
“My brother must have known you were listening. Everything he said was meant to provoke me. I tried to protect you by denying my feelings, but… How could you ever believe that?” I search her eyes. How can she not see what she means to me?
“When people find out who I am, one of two things happens: they run or they try to use me for their goals,” she whispers. And in her eyes, I did both. Fuck.
I tell her what really happened that night. And the way she shifts, nearly reaching for me twice, gives me hope that I’m not too late.
“I would never do anything to threaten what I have with you,” I say. All color leaves her face, and I push on, desperate to make her see. “You are it for me, Ara. You are everything I don’t deserve but will keep anyway.”
She shakes her head, looking frantic now.
“Do you want to see me beg? Crawl? Tell me what I need to do.” My words are rough, raw, broken, but for once, I don’t care. If she needs to see me bleed, I’ll bleed. A shudder runs through her.
“Nothing,” she whispers, breaking the silence and shredding my heart. “There is absolutely nothing you can do.” That she believes it cuts even deeper than her words. I search her face, her eyes, hoping for once my gift is wrong, and she is lying. But all I find is pain. Pain that mirrors my own.
I shake my head. This is wrong. “I’m not giving up.”
“What is there to give up?” she cries out.
“What we had was built on lies.” She looks away, and tendrils of smoke dance around her.
“You are like completely different people, caring and cold, soft and hard.
Sometimes I don't even know what to call you. Centurion, Prince, Alec, Tate.” She shrugs, still not looking at me.
“You can call me whatever the fuck you want.” I step into her line of sight. “As long as you call me yours.”
Ara sucks in a breath. “Let it go. Let me go.” Her eyes are pleading with me now. “Before it destroys us both.”
“So you do have feelings for me.” I latch on to her last words like a drowning man to a helping hand and step closer.
“Didn’t you listen to a word I said?” She huffs out, stepping back, small flames licking over her skin now. “You need to give up, to let me go.”
“And I told you I’m not going to. I love you, Ara.
” Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open at my admission.
“And that will not change. Loving you woke me up, changed me. It’s part of who I am now.
You exist, and I’m yours. It’s as easy as that.
” Admitting my feelings doesn’t leave me vulnerable, as I expected.
It feels right. Loving her is not a weakness.
It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever done. But she doesn’t look convinced.
“I’ll prove that I’m worthy of your trust and love. Even if it takes me several lifetimes, I will never give up on you. I'd rather die trying.” She pales even more.
“Oh gods, you’re going to hate me.” She bursts into tears, but they sizzle and evaporate instantly on her too hot skin.
“Believe me, I tried, and I can’t.” I move closer until the hand she holds up to stop me rests on my chest.
“Are you crazy?” she snaps, pulling her hand back.
“Maybe,” I say. “But I’ll get there for sure if you keep pushing me away.” She still shakes her head, but when I pull her into my arms, there is no pain despite her flames.
“I don’t know what to do.” She buries her face in my chest, and I hold her even closer.
“Shhh, just give me a chance. Please?”
“It will destroy us both.” Her voice breaks.
“We are stronger than that,” I assure her.
“This is such a mess, Tate.”
“Just let me love you … pain, scars, secrets, and all.” I bury my face in her hair and wish I could have a go at whoever caused her to doubt herself, doubt what she means to me.
“Okay.” Her reply is hesitant and so quiet it’s barely a whisper, and still, it’s everything.