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“Don’t what? Touch anything?”
When I reach for the throne, he catches me by the wrist. “Don’t scare me like that. When I came to the tower, you were gone. I had to track your footprints.”
My pulse hammers under his grip. “Stop acting like you care about me.”
He squares his shoulders as if preparing to do battle with me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“We’re supposed to be enemies.”
He stares at me as if I’ve gone insane. “Why would you believe that? After last night?”
I wrench my wrist free. “After you rejected me?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you again.” He growls out the words. “If we were enemies, do you think I would have cared? I would have drained you dry.”
I let out a scathing laugh. “No, you wouldn’t have, because you’re too goddamn noble.”
“You don’t know me.”
“You wouldn’t even fuck me while I was your prisoner. You wouldn’t eventouchme when I climbed naked into a bath with you.”
“Not without your consent.” He takes a breath slowly.
“Have you ever killed anyone by devouring their lust?”
“No.”
“Was I in danger of dying?”
“Not in immediate danger. It’s like drinking from a glass and knowing how much wine remains. I’ve never been so tempted to drain the glass.”
I challenge him with my stare, though it’s impossible to stop my heartbeat from thundering. “Like I said, you’re too goddamn noble.”
He matches my stare. “Like you said, I’m a necessary evil.”
Fuck. I hurt him when I said that, didn’t I?
“Rook, I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“You only want me because you’re in heat.” He looks me over with a cold appraisal, then away as if dismissing me. “You won’t feel this way about me afterward.”
Shame stabs me like a knife in my gut. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
When he meets my gaze, his eyes hold a depth of emotion that steals my breath. Hewantsme, and he wants so much more that remains unspoken. I lift my hand, my skin electric with anticipation, and trace his cheekbone with my fingertips. He leans into my touch as if his body knows his true desires.
“Pyrah.” He rasps my name. “I will never be your mate.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
His words knock the breath out of me for a second. I blink to hide the tears stinging my eyes, even though his confession isn’t unexpected.
“Why would you say that to me?” I ask. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Because it’s the truth. And it will hurt more if you continue to believe a lie.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I can’t promise you that kind of future.”
I retreat from him until I’m no longer touching him. My hand falls, empty, by my side. He doesn’t try to stop me and doesn’t try to comfort me. When I turn my back on him, the broken throne beckons me. I run my finger along the crack that splits it almost in two.
