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“What's wrong?” I ask him, tucking my feet under me and leaning against the armrest so I can face him.
“You're going to shred soon,” he says, and I figured that because my power was dwindling and frequently charging, which reminded me of last time. Darius turns his gaze to me.
“I can't let you mark me,” he whispers, turning his attention back to the flames. My bond tugs in my chest at his words, and I wonder what scares him so much. What would I learn that he fears me knowing?
“Whatever you're hiding, whatever I see, can remain between us, Darius,” I tell him, and he looks back at me.
“What if it involves you?” I shrug. What was worse than killing my parents?... Unless he truly didn't? My brows pinch in confusion.
“The night of the fire when you killed my parents.” I begin to say. He swallows and rests his head on the back of the couch.
“Aleera, you do not want to have this conversation,” he murmurs, but he's wrong, because I do. I want to, and I want to know what I saw when I did the casting. When I saw his greatest fear was my father.
“Did you kill my parents?” I ask him. He tilts his head to the side and stares at me before he shakes his head.
“I won't change my mind, Aleera. You can make your own assumptions.” I sigh.
“Our own assumptions nearly tore apart our bonds,” I tell him.
“And if I said I did kill them?” he asks. “Then what? Will you run again? Sometimes we think we want the answers, but then we get them, and they aren't what we were hoping for, and they cause more destruction.”
“I wouldn't run, not now. Not after what I saw,” I tell him, and he scoffs.
“You don't know what you saw,” he says dismissively.
“I know my father hurt you. If my father did, I don't blame you for killing him. I understand why you would want to.” He says nothing in reply to my words. Just stares ahead.
“My father did hurt you, didn't he? That is why you killed them?” He shakes his head.
“That isn't why I killed your father,” he says, and I swallow. Hearing him admit it still shocks me, despite knowing the answer already. I nod my head.
“That's it? That's all you'll give me?” I ask him.
“I answered, didn't I?” Darius responds.
“You half answered,” I tell him as the chicks in his hood squirm. He tugs the hood and peers in before sighing. Leaning forward, I peek into his hood as they try to burrow underneath each other to stay warm.
“I already know about my parent's death. What else would you be so worried about me knowing?” I ask him, stroking the one perched on top of the others..
“Everything… Maybe I am not worried about what you will see, Aleera. You'll understand the meaning behind the things I have done.” he whispers, and I sit back. Darius peers over his shoulder at our mates.
“But they may not. I don't want to risk losing them.”
“As I said, Darius. What I see doesn't mean I will tell them,” I remind him. He exhales, peering over at me.
“I don't want you looking at me differently, either. Some things aren't forgivable,” he says.
“I forgave you for killing my parents. If I can forgive that, I can forgive whatever you're hiding.”
“And if you think that is the worst thing I have done and believe nothing would horrify or shock you more than losing them, then you aren't ready to know or forgive what I have truly done, Aleera.”
“I know there is blood on your hands, Darius. I am not oblivious to what the media puts out. The moment I came of age, I recognized all of your names. I know what you are all capable of,” I tell him.
“You think because my hands are tainted with blood and what the media has put out about us is what I am worried about?” He laughs darkly and leans forward, scooping the phoenixes out of his hood and setting them in the crate with the others.
“Then tell me, Darius. Tell me fucking something! I am sick of guessing, and …” Darius moves quickly, his hand clamping down over my mouth. He peers over his shoulder at our sleeping mates.
He growls but removes his hand and clenches his teeth. Cursing under his breath, he reaches over and grabs his jacket from the back of the couch.
