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No, now he was staring woodenly at the hides between us.
“Are you alright?” I asked, hating how shaky and weak my voice sounded.
He must have heard that weakness, too. Heard the trembling. His eyes squeezed shut, his brow creasing, his jaw hardening. He hunched forward, his hands balling into fists against the bed, looking every bit the picture of wretched despair.
Like a man who hated himself and hated what he’d just done.
I am lost, beloved.
“I should be asking you that,” he forced out. “I did not mean to... I cannot even say I was asleep, for I was not. But all the same, I would not have... That dream made me so desperate with fear, and when I woke and saw you still here with me I...”
His words ground to a halt. His eyes were open again now but still fastened upon the bed.
“I am sorry,” he finally whispered down at his hands.
Two in one night. First time I’ve heard him say please, and the first time I’ve ever heard him apologize.
He thinks he pushed me too far.
Little did he know there was no need for his apology.I’dheld ontohim. I’d felt the rush of heat. I’d only shoved him away because I’d remembered what a state he was in.
He thought my voice had trembled because I was terrified. I mean, I was. But not of him.
I was terrified of my reaction to him. The way I’d clung to him. The way I’d let him smash through every barrier, every wall. The way I’d wanted him.Neededhim.
If he weren’t injured, just how far would we have gone?
“Errok,” I said softly. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling forwards. I came to a stop between his splayed thighs, right in front of his fists. “Would you please look at me?”
His throat worked. He let out a strangled gasp.
“It hurts.”
He looked younger like this, unhappy in the darkness without his customary sneer. It made me want to soothe him. To wrap my arms around him.
So, I did.
I kept my arms light and gentle as I circled them around his shoulders, leaning forward on my knees. I rested my cheek against the place where his shoulder met his neck, my nose brushing the side of his throat. He smelled of leather and blood and harsh mountain air.
“You didn’t push me too far,” I told him.
Shock at my words made his shoulders clench under my arms.
“I could have stopped you sooner. Ishouldhave stopped you sooner. I didn’t push you away because I...”
I didn’t push you away because I wanted you to stop.
But I couldn’t say it. Instead, I changed course. “I’m worried about your wounds. You really should lie back down.”
He didn’t fight me. Without argument, he laid his huge body back in its place. I knelt beside him, placing a tender palm over the wound on his chest. I was no longer worried that he’d done any extra damage to his wound. He was alert and didn’t seem to be in any worse physical pain than before, but I still wanted to make sure he was alright.
“How do you feel?” I asked. I shivered when one of his hands came up to cover mine.
“Like I have spilled far too much of myself tonight.”
I knew he didn’t mean his blood. He meant his words. The terrible, vulnerable ones he hadn’t been able to hold back.
I am lost and I wish that you would find me.
