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That voice. Why did it sound like home? Was this place really my home?
I was falling apart. That was clear.
Alistair ignored the tears streaming down my face as I ate pieces of the cake until finally I could do no more and I pushed it away from me.
“Let’s get you some more rest,” he said gently, and I nodded, trying to wipe away the tears. He didn’t seem bothered by them. I guess it could be expected after what I’d been through. I could only hope that eventually I became comfortable enough to not feel like I’d done something wrong every time I cried.
He once again took my arm and led me back towards the bedroom. I tried to take note of where he was taking me this time. Maybe he could get me a map or something.
We made it to the bedroom and Alistair released my arm. I stood there awkwardly, realizing what was ahead.
“I’m going to change,” he murmured casually, like this wasn’t a big freaking deal.
He slowly lifted up his shirt, showcasing a set of abs that should have had me drooling.
But I felt nothing. Again.
I knew objectively he was good looking, but it was like staring at a piece of artwork at a museum. I could admit it was pretty, but it didn’t spark any heat inside me.
I must not have given him the reaction he was looking for, because he stalked towards the bathroom and disappeared before giving me the rest of the show. A few minutes later he came out, dressed in a low slung pair of pajama pants and nothing else. I kept my eyes on the ground as I brushed past him to get ready for bed.
Unfortunately…there was nothing in the closet to wear to bed except for scraps of nightgowns that amounted to lingerie. So I grabbed one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, figuring that would make him happy, and give me an easy excuse to explain why I wasn’t wearing the nightgowns he’d provided me.
I washed my face and stared in dismay at my reflection. Again.
How long would I look haunted?
Taking a deep breath, I dragged myself from the sink and walked out of the bathroom, trying to appear confident.
Alistair was already in bed, his nightstand lamp on, a book in his hand.
I strode towards the bed, wishing with every step that we were sleeping in separate rooms.
Just until I adjusted…however long that would take.
I slid into the bed, situating myself as far from him as I could without it being completely obvious. Pulling the covers up to my chin, I settled into the pillow. His scent was all over the sheets, and I wondered how it could smell so wrong. Everything I knew about fated mates said that everything about them was supposed to attract you. The look of them, the scent of them, the sound of their voice… Right now we were zero for three. But surely that would change?
I glanced over at what he was reading, my eyebrows lifting when I saw it wasThe Art of War.Interesting bedtime reading.
I was exhausted, even though I’d been apparently sleeping for what amounted to forever. But it was going to be hard to sleep with a stranger in the bed.
He glanced over at me. “The bed comfortable enough?" he asked kindly.
I nodded and tried to give him a real smile.
"Tell me what the last year's been like for you?" I asked, shocking myself because I’d just blurted it out.
Alistair froze, thinking for a long moment before closing the book and setting it on the table next to him.
He turned off the light and settled into the bed.
"Awful," he finally said, but the way he said it came across more of a snarl than anything else. Like he was furious. "When something that belongs to you gets taken away like that, something that's the most important thing to you, it's hard to see past the rage."
I could feel the rage in his words, the meaning in their depths…but something still felt off about it. Maybe even if I couldn't remember my time with the Fae Queen, the distrust I would have built up in that situation was leaking through my consciousness.
"But I have everything back now," he whispered, almost to himself. "And I don't intend to ever lose it again." A shiver trickled down my spine at the way he'd said that. I felt like property rather than a cherished mate, but surely I was reading into that wrong.
"Go to sleep, my moon. Everything is going to be different now," he murmured. Alistair promptly rolled over without another word, and within just a few minutes his breathing turned into soft, steady snores…as if he didn’t have a care in the world now that his mate was back.
