Her lips pressed together at his argument.
“Ihaveto train, Ilain,” he insisted. “And that means it has to be with Brea.”
“No.” She shoved his hands away, pulling out of his grip. “You can train with Evylin—with Thom and Rafferty. You don’t have to work with her.”
Ethenn’s hands balled into fists. He fought back a growl of frustration, yet his next words slipped out unbidden. “Why are you being so deliberately illogical?”
The curl of Ilain’s lips showed her building rage. “I’m sorry that my grief makes me so illogical, darling. Would you like me to pretend that everything is all just fine? Perhaps I should forget the heartache of my loss.”
Ethenn threw his hands in the air, the heat blazing in his cheeks. “We’ve all lost someone, Ilain. Shall the rest of us join you in your madness? Or are you to be the only one who gets to fall into delusion while we poor saps are resigned to reality?”
Ilain froze, mouth agape at his outburst.
Realizing the harshness of his words and the aggression in his tone, Ethenn sighed. He’d gone too far, letting his emotions get the better of him. This was why he was so careful with his feelings. If his heart wasn’t involved, if he locked it away, he couldn’t get angry. He couldn’t hurt someone.
Ethenn opened his mouth to apologize, but Ilain drew back, her composure regained as she studied him. Her jade green gaze bore a sly glint, and suddenly, he realized what he’d confessed.
“Who did you lose?” Ilain asked.
Ethenn’s throat burned, and his heart stopped. “No one.”
Ilain’s eyes narrowed. “You just said you did.”
“I meant—” Ethenn fumbled, working for an excuse. “That’s not—”
He stepped back as Ilain moved in closer. “Who did you lose, Ethenn?” she demanded.
A tremble worked through his muscles. He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to give voice to the memories. Yet, the determination in Ilain’s gaze told him she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Which time?” he said quietly.
Ilain’s face fell. “Oh, Ethenn,” she whispered.
He began to shake his head, backing away, but she reached out, grabbing the edge of his open collar. Her expression softened, and she stepped up before him, the nearness of her muddling his thoughts. “Tell me,” she pleaded.
Rejecting the pain the memories of the past brought, Ethenn spoke with rote blandness, like he was giving directions rather than recounting the worst days of his life. “My father died when I was eleven in a hunting accident. Five months later, my mother grew ill. She passed while I was away on a hunting trip.”
Ilain stared up at him. “You lost both your parents before you were twelve?”
“I turned twelve two months after my father’s death, actually.”
Compassion drew Ilain’s features downward as she frowned. “Oh, Ethenn,” she whispered again. Then she cupped his face. Her hands were cold on his cheeks, soothing the heat that burned under the surface. Gently, she pressed her lips to his. He leaned into the caress, the familiar magic spiking within him. Coolness tingled across his skin, causing the flames of his anger to recede as a swell of desire rose in its wake.
Ready to relinquish himself to the soothing torrent of her touch, Ethenn fought his disappointment when she pulled back before the kiss ever really began. His heart thrummed in his ears, whispering lies that his qualms didn’t matter; he could losehis whole heart and soul to her. Why should he hold himself back when she was his wife?
After their kiss in the tavern, Ethenn hadn’t had the gumption to take another. He knew it would exert this same insatiable effect on him. One caress wasn’t enough. He craved her, his skin tingling under her touch. The heat rose along his scalp, urging him to kiss her again.
The reaction startled him, and yet he longed to give in to it.
Ilain brushed a few locks of hair from Ethenn’s forehead, her verdant gaze searching his face. “What were they like?” she asked.
He fought the urge to clench his jaw against the memory of his parents. “Good,” he said without emotion. Ilain was about to press for more, but he clutched onto her arms, stopping her. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
He could read the disappointment on her face. “Why don’t you trust me?” she asked.
“For the same reason you don’t trust me,” he replied.
She didn’t bother denying it. A gentleness came into her gaze. “Could I persuade you to?” she asked, running her hands over his chest.
