“Can I tell you something without you getting mad?” he asked.
“Probably not,” I said honestly, chuckling.
He nodded but said what was on his mind anyway.
“You are incredibly beautiful to me, and I do not just mean your appearance or your body. Down to your soul, you are beautiful. You are so honest about who you are. So free with your thoughts and emotions. Growing up, everyone around me was guarded. So closed off. But you…you have this divine light about you. This pure honesty and goodness. It shows when you work the everlass, and it shines through in your healing gifts. Your thoughtful expressions are so lovely because I can practically see the wheels in that big brain of yours turning. You’re so smart and capable, Finley. So tough and unyielding in your ability to survive. I am in awe of you. But most of all, I love your fire and your passion. I love that you refuse to let others dictate who you are. I love that you dig in and push back when I try to dominate you, challenging me to be better, stronger. It’s arousing but also… It’s just… You’re perfect. I wish I were a poet so I could express it properly. When others look at you, they might see your surface beauty. I wanted you to know that when I look at you, I see the beauty of your soul, and I am in rapture. I see you, Finley. That is what I wanted to say. I see all of you, and you are beautiful.”
A tear escaped my eye. I didn’t know what to say. No one had ever said something like that to me before. Nyfain was genuine, too—I could hear it in his tone, and feel it in his words.
My lids tugged at me, the result of a stressful few days, no doubt, and the comfort of being safe at home.
I’d dreamed of him. Of a sweet kiss on my lips, and then battles, and war cries, and the golden dragon saving the kingdom. It had been very exciting, especially since it concluded with him between my thighs. Of all the dreams I’d had, that was one of the best.
The man had a firm grip on my heart, though. That was definitely not good. I had to start distancing myself. Soon he’d be leaving, and I would let him. I had to. We were almost at the point of no return, and I could sense myself teetering on the verge of a very big mistake.
I blinked my eyes open and let the light wake me up. I felt a little hollow for some reason. I felt like something was missing. Maybe because I knew Nyfain would leave?
My animal rolled in my chest, trying to scratch her way to the surface. Her panic bled through.
Frowning, still bleary-eyed for some reason despite having slept through the night, I rolled onto my back. A soft cough came from next door, then another. Father was still hanging on.
I glanced at Nyfain as I sat up and stretched, careful not to make any noise. Then froze.
My animal scrabbled at me wildly. I shoved her down as a sick feeling curled in my gut. He was gone, the bed neatly made. There was no note. Maybe he’d just woken up before me and hadn’t wanted to disturb me.
Down the hall, I found Hannon at the kitchen table, wiping his bloodshot eyes as he held his steaming mug with a death grip. He sagged, looking as tired as I felt.
“Hey,” I said, catching Sable yawning on the couch. That was odd. Usually she was the first one up. “Have you guys seen Nyfain?”
“No. But I found his efforts from last night.” Hannon’s voice was flat, his eyes brimming with something I rarely saw in him—anger. “He wasn’t subtle.”
I shook my head. “He wasn’t subtle about what?”
“I didn’t clean up his ingredients. You’ll know what they mean.” He glanced beyond me to the kitchen and then held up the paper. “And then there is this.”
I grabbed the piece of paper. The message, written in a delicate scrawl, read: Someday you’ll forgive me. Don’t come after me; there’ll be no point. This is where our acquaintance ends. This is for the best.
There was a blank stretch of paper, as if he’d struggled for what to write next.
Remember, no cage can keep you for long. Find a way out, Finley, any way you can. You deserve to be free. Hopefully I’ll meet you in the next life when there isn’t so much standing between us. -N
That sick feeling churned in my gut. My animal roiled. It didn’t take a genius to know something was badly wrong. He’d clearly done something I wouldn’t like.
I’m not a nice guy. He’d said it once. He’d meant it a dozen times.
Breathing deeply, I padded to the kitchen to see what Hannon was talking about. The ingredients were out on the counter, clear as day. Valerian root, chamomile, and a few herbs I had in my garden that promoted deep sleep. I gave them to my father in a different recipe when the coughing got too bad.