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A moment passed. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Cy blinked, unsure what to say.
“I recognized her. I’ve seen her before,” Haven continued.
“She told me Thorne bought her from the skin markets. As a gift for you.”
Haven nodded. “It was my fault Lord Merick took her. Thorne put her up for auction when I rejected her.”
Cy blinked. What could he say? ItwasHaven’s fault in a way. But his soft voice and pinched brow nagged at Cy’s empathy. “Why did Thorne buy her for you?”
Haven glanced away. For a moment, Cy feared he might shut down again, close the wall between them. But instead, Haven said, “He knew I was unhappy. Not feeding enough. I suppose he thought if I had someone, some companion…”
“She looked a bit like you,” Cy said hastily. “Perhaps he thought she resembled your mother?”
He’d overstepped again. The walls crashed down as Haven’s expression shuttered and hardened. “Enough,” he snapped. “Stop your poking and prodding. I can’t think in your presence!”
“Are you afraid of what my prodding will find? Afraid I’ll come across something that might make you vulnerable?”
Haven stilled, glaring.
“Would that be so terrible?” Cy asked. “To open yourself to me?”
“Of course it would be!” Haven scoffed. “Everything you do is calculated, meant as a weapon of some sort. I know what you’re doing. You’d kill us all if you could.”
“All but you.” It slipped from his tongue before he could stop it.
Haven blinked. “What did you say?”
Cy bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood. Fuck. Why had he said that? Why couldn’t he stop?
“I don’t want to...hurt you.” He hated that it was the truth. He did hate vampyres. He’d killed so many of them in so many ruthless, horrendous ways. Tortured them and relished their pain. But there was something different about this wounded, striking creature before him. This vampyre who still felt so human…
Haven moved closer now, closing the gap between them. “Why is that?”
“You’ve been kind to me.”
A sneer crossed over Haven’s lips. “I haven’t.”
“You saved my life. More than once. You protected me. Regardless of what you say, you had no obligation to do so. You say you hate humans, yet you refuse to kill them. You rarely drink from them. There’s a part of you that doesn’t want this life. Isn’t there?”
“Stop it,” Haven said, his voice desperately cold. “Stop talking.”
“The truth is that even though you hate humans, you hate the vampyres even more. Isn’t it? You hate what you’ve become.”
“Enough!” Fury poured from Haven like steam from a kettle. He glared at Cy with burning eyes. His entire body seemed to reverberate with rage, from his shaking knees to the tips of his trembling fingers.
For a moment, a surge of fear overwhelmed Cy. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before any sounds came out, Haven fled the room, slamming the door behind him. The hitch of the lock grounded Cy in his place.
Frustrated, alone again, Cy sagged back to the mattress and shoved his head into the plush pillows. Why had he poked at Haven in such a way? What had it gained him? Not the vampyre’s favor. And it wouldn’t bring Summer back. Wouldn’t turn Wren human again.
Again, he was alone.
Perhaps it hadn’t been for naught after all.
Rising, Cy flexed his free hands. Haven hadn’t bound him before he left.
He might as well make use of his newfound freedom.
