Page 90 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Let me reciprocate?” I pushed up onto my elbows, frustration and hurt and confusion all tangling together. “You said no penetration. Back at the cave. I accepted that. But this?” I gestured between us. “You’ve had your mouth on me more times than I can count. That wasn’t off limits. So why is me touching you suddenly a problem?”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me! Because from where I’m sitting, it feels like you’re making up rules as you go.”

“I’m not—“ He ran a hand through his hair, looking pained. “If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop myself from crossing the line I drew.”

I stared at him, the pieces clicking together slowly. “You think if I touch you, you’ll lose control. That we’ll have sex—penetrative sex.”

His silence was confirmation enough.

“And then what? I’ll get attached?” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Axel, I hate to break it to you, but that ship has sailed. You think what we’ve been doing doesn’t count? You think I can just walk away from this—from you—because we haven’t technically had sex?”

Something flickered in his expression. Pain, maybe. Or fear.

“You said you didn’t want me chained to you,” I continued, sitting up fully. “That I’d want my real life back once I broke the curse. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think drawing some arbitrary line will make it easier for me to leave when this is over.”

“Rebecca—“

“It won’t.” My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “I’m already in this. I’m already—“ I stopped myself before I said something I couldn’t take back. Something that sounded a lot like love. Because I couldn’t be. Could I?

I let out a long breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Your logic doesn’t hold up. If you wanted to protect me from getting attached, you should have kept your distance. Not cooked me dinner every night. Not decorated your whole cabin for me. Not looked at me like…like...”

I trailed off, shaking my head.

“It’s not entirely about attachment.” His voice was rough, strained. “It’s about what happens if I lose control. If I claim you.”

“What does that mean? Claiming?”

He shook his head, jaw tight. “I can’t explain.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

Silence. The fire crackled and popped.

“Is this some wolf thing I don’t know about?”

His throat bobbed, but he said nothing. Whatever claiming meant, he wasn’t going to tell me. Not tonight.

“Axel, things aren’t adding up. You’re okay with everything except the one thing that would make this feel...equal. Like I have any say in this. Like I’m not just some—“ I bit off the words, frustrated tears pricking at my eyes.

“You have say,” he said quietly. “You can walk away. Any time. That’s the whole point.”

“And if I don’t want to walk away?”

His eyes met mine, and I saw it there—the war raging behind them. Want and fear and something deeper, something he was guarding so fiercely it was tearing him apart. Something he didn’t trust me with enough to tell me. Which hurt. Really fucking hurt.

“Please, Rebecca.” The plea was raw. Broken. It softened some of my pain. “Just...trust me. I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what? From yourself?”

He didn’t answer. Which was answer enough. Because I knew how he felt about what was happening to him.