Tristan is a tall, broad-shouldered man, but he somehow seems even bigger now, more like a threat than a swoony elf prince for me to cuddle with. My mind spirals as I brace myselffor the impact of a punch. He’s been nothing but chivalrous toward me but my muscle memory knows how arguing with Gloombane went.
“But… are we not back together? Did you not kiss me as if breath itself didn’t matter?”
“We are,” I choke out, trying to breathe so I can think clearly. “I adore you, but I don’t want the shadow bond. It feels… wrong after everything that happened,” I say, gesturing to the floor, where our shadows pool together.
A sharp sensation passes through my body, violent like that time when I accidentally touched a wire surrounding a cattle pen. Did Tristan do that to me through our bond? I shudder, panic rising in my throat at the things he could do to me now that we’re alone. The Lord has condemned what was done to me, but what if he’d choose to protect his cousin?
“Nate I… I love you. Destiny has brought us together. What are you not sure of? Have I not proven my devotion?” Tristan spreads his arms, and I can’t ignore the hurt in his eyes.
“Did you just… do this to me?” I whisper, not daring to move. The declaration of love should set my heart alight, but right now it just feels like emotional blackmail.
“Do what?”
“This pain. This stab that I felt all over,” I say, retreating as shadows dance in the corners. Does this place have a dungeon too? Is it as horrific as Gloombane’s?
At least instead of following me, Tristan backs off. “No, I… It wasn’t on purpose. I will try to control myself better. I would never hurt you, Nate. You know that, right?”
I hit one of the wooden columns and move to stand behind it as my heartrate spikes. “So youdiddo it!”
“Nate. You know we’re meant to be. Why fight it?” He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his silky hair. Is he trying to seduce me now?
“What was it?” I demand, louder than I expected to, and the room around us reacts with a dull silence.
He won’t look into my eyes when he speaks. “It was my pain. It happened so fast I didn’t control it. I apologize,” he says quietly, taking another step back.
“So what, unless you control it, it just ends up being reflected at me?”
“Well… yes! We share a bond. I recognized your affection for me in every heartbeat when we made love earlier. Is it so disagreeable to you? What we have?”
We do? He can sense my emotions too? Nobody explained this to me at all. But that doesn’t cancel out the way I’m feeling, which at this moment is… I don’t even know what.
“Because I do have affection for you,” I choke out, hugging the column and tracing the old wood with my fingertips. “But I don’t wantthis. I want to be free. My own man.”
Tristan huffs and raises his hands. “You are extremely confusing to me! Do you want to be with me, or do you wish to be ‘free’?”
Anger. It rises deep inside me and buzzes as if my blood’s about to boil when I drop to one knee and pat the floor in a vain attempt to grab the thread connecting us. It doesn’t work. I have no power here, not even to show him what bothers me. “I don’t want this. I told you. I told you after you bound us without asking!”
“And what do you want from me? What did you think would happen when you kissed me?” There’s a dark undertone to his voice, but I don’t know what it means. At least it no longer resonates pain through our bond. I don’t know if it’s because it’s no longer there, or because he’s able to keep it to himself.
“I want Tristan the man, not Tristan the… shadow mage,” I say softly, fighting the tightness in my throat, because the space around us appears to shrink, with air becoming ever denser.“I want what we started before the bond. I want to break this thread and then see how things go.”
“‘See how things go’.” He huffs and starts pacing the room as he clenches then unclenches his hands. His fists are bigger than Gloombane’s. I loved kissing his large palms, but now they seem terrifying. It’s like I’m once more being thrust into that tower, where I lost myself completely. “No. You don’t trust me. I can’t accept such scraps when my heart beats for you only! I’d lay my life down for you, vow to be yours forever, to cherish and protect you, yet for you it’s just a game to pass the time until you are rid of me!”
“You demand trust after you left me with him?” I hiss, stepping from behind the column, my body driven by anger I wish to scratch out. I can’t think. Everything is such a blur. “You promised! You promised to set me free, but apparently you were just biding your time to make me change my mind!” In a blur of helpless fury and resentment I push his chest, again and again.
I half-expect him to push back, then throw me from the balcony for good measure, but he just raises his arms higher, stepping back until he reaches the table.
“I did promise. I… I’m sorry I misread what happened. You are right. I don’t deserve your trust, but I will honor the promise I made.”
I want to cry.
Nothing about this feels right, but neither does leaving things as they are. I feel as if every step ahead will lead along a path made of sharp blades.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, because the stinging pain inside me might be my own emotion as well as his.
Tristan gently grabs my hands where they laid on his chest and steps away from between me and the table. Toward the balcony door. “No need to be. I will… I will go make preparations for our trip.”
I’m simply doing what’s best for me. So why do I feel like the worst person who ever existed?
