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He winced. "Yeah, there might be. It might induce your transition. Kian thinks that it might not, because you need to be healthy to transition, but there is a chance that it will, and I didn't want to do it without your consent. I know that you haven't yet decided whether you want to become immortal, and there is also the issue of choosing someone to bond with after I leave."
His words were like a punch to her gut, and if she had the strength, she would have punched him in his too-perfect face for hurting her like that.
Instead, she did the next best thing and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him.
"I need you to be safe, Frankie," Dagor continued, his voice breaking slightly. "I can't lose you. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt or worse."
The anger that burst out of her burned through the wooziness and made her eyes fly open effortlessly. "You are so full of shit, Dagor."
Dagor
That was the last thing Dagor expected Frankie to say.
He tilted his head. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Her eyes shot daggers at him. "How can you say that you can't lose me or see me hurt right after saying that you are leaving and that I might have to find an immortal to bond with? How can you be so disconnected from your feelings?"
Every word she said radiated hurt and frustration, and her voice, so full of anger and pain, cut through him.
There was a tightness in his chest that he struggled to understand.
Was it fear for her life and well-being? Or perhaps it was fear of losing Frankie, not because she died, Fates forbid, but because she didn't want anything to do with him.
Did he love her?
He'd called her his mate after she'd been shot, and he'd felt the rightness of the word when he said it, but he'd been under a lot of stress, and that might have sharpened his feelings for her. Now that the worst of it was behind them, he was no longer sure of that.
Frankie couldn't be his mate.
As lovely as she was, she was human, and gods couldn't bond with the lesser species. As the rebel gods had proven, they could love them, be with them, even have children with them, but not bond with them.
If Frankie was an immortal, there might have been a slight chance that they had bonded, but he was certain that it wasn't possible before she transitioned.
"Frankie, I..." he started, his voice trailing off. How could he explain the conflict raging within him? "It's not that I feel nothing. You know that I care for you. It's just that things are complicated, and we can't be together no matter what we want. That doesn't mean that I don't have feelings for you, I do, and I would be devastated if you died."
Frankie's eyes softened slightly, but her expression remained guarded. "Because of your duties? Because you are a god, and I'm a lowly human?"
Dagor sighed. "Yes, but there is nothing lowly about you." He would never tell her that the gods referred to humans as a lesser species. The polite term was created species, but everyone knew what it meant. "After this cruise, I'm bound for Tibet with Aru, and you have your own path to follow. You've been invited to join the immortal village, which is a big deal. You told me how much you were looking forward to working as a beta tester for the virtual reality studios."
"Where there is a will, there is a way," she whispered. "You just need to figure out your priorities."
Dagor felt a pang of pain at her words. He wanted to reach for her and pull her into his arms to comfort her, but she was hooked up to all those things that beeped, buzzed, and dripped.
"I'm not free to prioritize, Frankie. I follow orders, I do my duty, and—"
He couldn't finish his sentence, the words catching in his throat. It sounded cold even to his own ears, but Dagor had never allowed himself to feel this deeply for anyone, and he used his duty as armor to block anyone from getting inside his heart and to protect himself from reaching out to anyone as well. And yet, here he was, bleeding from the cuts Frankie had inflicted on his stupid heart with just a few words.
He cared for her, yes, but to admit to love, to a bond he had vowed never to form—that was a step he couldn't take. Not when their worlds were so vastly different, not when he knew there was no future for them together.
Frankie sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm too tired to try to pierce through your armor. I need to go back to sleep."
There was resignation in her voice that slashed another cut across his heart, and yet he couldn't bring himself to say the words that would chase away that sadness from her face.
"You didn't answer me about the transfusion. I need to know that you are okay with that in case your situation worsens, and I need to do it to save your life."
"If it looks like I'm dying, you have my permission to give me the transfusion." She didn't even bother to open her eyes.
"Can I also do it just to make you heal faster? You're not feeling pain now because the doctor put something in the IV bag to numb it, but without my intervention, the wound you suffered might bother you for the rest of your life."
