I want to melt into him because here, in the same room, this connection between us is more than a conduit of emotion. It’s as if he’s half of me, and I cannot bear the pain he’s feeling. It reminds me of myself seven years ago, of my grief in those days after I’d recovered from the fire. I’d almost died, yes, but my father had died that night, and the weight of that loss had been a constant pressure on my chest and shoulders, a grip around my lungs that made it impossible to take a deep breath.
Feeling that now—knowing Sebastian’s suffering in that way—I want nothing more than to ease his pain. With my kiss. With my body. With my forgiveness. Anything to crawl out from under the weight of all this grief and guilt and worry.
But I can’t. Instead, I press my hand against his chest and pull away. “Put me down.”
“Gods above and below, you came back to me,” he says, nuzzling my neck. His lips graze my skin, and it feels incredible—a buzz of awareness both from my own body and from his. “I knew you’d come back.”
I’m perilously close to dissolving under his touch, and I grapple for my control. “Put me down now, Sebastian.” Darkness floods the room with a deafening boom.
Sebastian obeys, slowly lowering me to the floor, and I grasp for control over my magic even as the darkness lifts. “I’m sorry,” he says, scanning my face. “I just . . . I’ve been so worried and have missed you so desperately. I tried to visit your dreams, but you pushed me out.”
“I know. Because you’re not welcome there.”
I don’t need to see the hurt flash across his features to know I’ve struck a blow. I feel it. It’s like breaking my own heart with every word. He shakes his head, and the pain abates— all of his emotions weaken, as if he’s somehow put a damper on them or thrown up a wall.
“I understand why you’re angry,” he says, “and I deserve that, but—”
“I’m not here to talk about us. I don’t forgive you, and I’m not looking for a reunion.”
His face pales, and those beautiful sea-green eyes lose their luster. “I didn’t want things to go the way they did,” he says.
I set my jaw. I thought I was ready to face him, that I could focus on my mission, but it’s harder than I expected. “You had choices. You could’ve told me.”
“Could I?” he asks. “What would you have said?”
I would’ve gladly given him the crown if I could. Except . . . it required me to die or to become fae to survive. The truth is, if I’d known what he needed from me, I would have run.
“Did you ever really love me?” I ask.
“You’re my bonded partner,” he says, cocking his head.
I huff. “Judging by the tattoos all over you, it seems to me that you bonded yourself to everyone who’d have you, so forgive me if I don’t take that as a sign of your undying love.”
His eyes grow cold. “My point is that since we’re bonded, you don’t have to ask. You already know exactly how I feel about you.”
Because I feel him in my blood. I feel his heartache and his longing and his love, even through whatever shield he’s put up to soften those feelings. “How could you do this to someone you love?” I draw in a sharp breath. I will not cry. “Was I supposed to wake up and be okay with everything? Did you expect me to put it all together and then happily march to your coronation?”
“You were supposed to give me a chance to explain. That’s how it’s supposed to work when you love someone. But you ran. Just like you always do.”
I flinch, because he’s right. Every time things have been hard between us, I’ve run, but that doesn’t free him of responsibility for his decisions. “You can’t put this on me. You chose the crown over my life, and you’re upset that I didn’t hang around to chat about it?”
He shakes his head. “Have you thought about why I asked you not to come to Faerie? I told you to stay put in Fairscape. I needed another year.”
“And what would’ve happened in a single year that—”
His eyes blaze. “She would’ve died!”
“The queen.” His mother. He wasn’t broken because she was dying. He was hoping to hide me until her death. I draw in a shaky breath, remembering what he’d said to me when he visited my dream.
I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew I’d rather watch my mother die than betray you. But I ran out of choices.