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His back was to me as I slid between the icy covers.
“You missed supper,” he growled.
Hurt laced his words.
This was all he had to say? No sarcastic thanks for the night of harrowing nightmares. No pleading for forgiveness because of his overzealous kiss. No mention of worrying for me.
You missed supper.
I tried not to groan over the three words that could have been much more.
I supposed he had every right. I’d disappeared, as if I’d discarded his carelessly bestowed affection. He didn’t want to reveal himself to me the way he had yesterday, but he wanted to prove a point.
He was dangerous. He told me as much. I felt these notions as an unspoken vibe.
But what was this new vibe? He was sharing with me a different feeling, letting me sense something. When he said I “missed supper” what he meant was he missed me at supper. He had missed me all day.
Caedryn could have found me, but he knew I wanted space. He knew I was working. He was working.
But he missed me.
I guessed those three words said everything.
I grinned. Separation is a powerful tool in regard to matters of the heart.
I told myself I’d take things slow with Caedryn. I had shunned his physical advance, but what if I showed him something tender? More careful?
A sudden desire to touch him filled me. I craved the feeling of wanting to be loved, recalling the way I begged to be loved when Kelyn kissed me. I had wanted him to feel my light and need me in return.
I wanted Caedryn to feel my light. He needed my light. He possessed so much darkness that needed to be countered.
Fill his void. Receive by giving. I understood this truth. Our hearts became fuller—richer—as we gave. Healing began as we gave of ourselves.
Seren would chastise me for being bold, but I didn’t care. I shoved my pillow beside his and curled my body against Caedryn, draping my arm across his stomach. I nearly gasped; his build was so slender. His emrys physique had not escaped my eye, but I hadn’t wrapped my arms around him until then. Touching him brought back memories of frolics with Aneirin.
No. I wouldn’t think of Aneirin.
Caedryn had become absolutely rigid. His back arched away from me. His breathing was shallow, as if he tried not to move his body at all, as if the less he moved, the less he’d feel my body pressed against his.
“This isn’t for you; this is for me,” I whispered.
He didn’t say anything.
I began slowly, imperceptibly. I shared my light with him in a casual stream that would build steadily over the night.
He didn’t stop me, although I knew he was fighting a battle. As I settled against him, I also knew Caedryn wouldn’t kiss me again the way he had. His kiss had shown me that once he released his passion, it’d be difficult for him to rein in, but rein it in he would.
This night was for me. Not him.
FIFTY-FIVE
The morning sun shone through the bedroom window. As I woke, I was vaguely aware of two things. One, Caedryn was wide-awake, but his breaths had deepened. I wouldn’t say he was relaxed. Quite possibly he stayed up all night, exercising his self-control until he could finally breathe and let his back touch me.
And two, his hand clutched mine, to his chest.
I felt a sense of victory.
At what point did he pull me closer?
