Page 225 of The Sun He Buried

“They have offered little assistance.”

She opens them again. “Did it make me want you?”

“It cannot.”

“Did it bring me here?”

“You climbed the stairs.”

“Could you use it to make me choose?”

“Never.” The answer comes hard enough to scrape my throat.

“The bond has never put love, want, obedience, or forgiveness into you. It cannot take any of them out. You can leave this room, return to Sólvik, choose my brother, or choose nobody. Your will remains yours because my blood recognized only a possibility.”

She watches me.

I make myself finish.

“I owe you the truth. You owe me nothing.”

“What happens if I choose you?”

“You feel me.” I keep my hands at my sides.

“Everything?”

I hesitate. “Enough.”

“Can I stop it?”

I shift my weight. She wants to be able to stop feeling me. I don’t blame her. “You can learn walls. They take time.”

Her gaze drops to the mask.

“You have many.”

“I had an excellent childhood.”

Her mouth nearly smiles.

“What do I have to do?”

She wants the way out. I never believed she’d want anything else.

“Nothing. You walk out that door and never say it, and you’ll never feel a thing. It goes back to being only mine.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, yes. You make it sound small.”

The shaking’s left her.

“Keep your door.”

“What—You should be frightened.”

“I am.”