He shifted my hands higher, grasping both wrists in a one-handed grip as his other trailed down my arm, tickling against my skin through the fabric of my tunic. His fingers toyed with the laces at my chest, drawing them apart slowly to reveal a line of cleavage.
I stared up at him, fear pulsing through my veins. I knew what it was to be with him; I knew how it was to have him moving inside of me. To have allowed it while I was consumed with my grief had been one thing, but in the aftermath of the intimacy we’d shared the night before and the weight of our confessions, this felt like an entirely different beast.
“Wait,” I whispered. The word cracked through the silence and Caldris froze immediately.
He stared down at me with his brow furrowed, his features conveying so much hurt and so much confusion, I immediately regretted the fact that I wasn’t able to be with him in this moment. “What’s wrong, Little One?” he asked, his voice gentle in spite of the surge of emotion I could feel coming from him.
The rejection wandered down the bond, striking me in the chest to confirm that he knew exactly what was wrong. “I can’t,” I whispered, letting my eyes drift closed as I spoke. I didn’t want to hurt him; not under his gentle stare, feeling as if I held his heart in my hands. “You lied to me. Call it what you want, but you knowingly deceived me. I loved Caelum, but you are not him.”
He released my hands, rising to his knees beside me and staring down . The sudden vulnerability from him staring down at me, his face taut with the pain of rejection, forced me to sit up and cross my arms over my chest. “I thought we were coming together last night,” he murmured, the ache of his melancholy surging into me. “But I’m not getting anywhere with you, am I?”
“I’m just not ready for that,” I said, fully knowing that I was giving him mixed signals. I’d allowed him to take me after we’d buried Melian, and I couldn’t find the words to explain that this felt heavier because of the way he’d worked inside my heart since that moment, not in spite of it. “It doesn’t mean that I’m not…” I floundered, rubbing my hands over my face as I tried to find the words.
“You could let me in, you know,” he said, reaching forward to pull my hands away from my face. He touched the side of my temple, his fingers coasting over my skin gently. “Our bond would allow us to speak without words—to feel without having to articulate it—but you keep your mind closed to me.”
“I feel like you already know everything. Like you can sense what I’m feeling,” I explained, leaning away from his fingers. I didn’t know how to open myself to him so he could feel the torment lashing through me, but I also knew that I wouldn’t do it, even if I could.
I wouldn’t give him that part of me, not when even I couldn’t understand the mess inside my head.
“I’ve learned to read you very quickly, but it isn’t the same. I want to be one with you, min asteren. I want to feel your emotions as if they are my own. Let me in,” he urged. His eyes were sad as if he already knew what my answer would be, and he turned his head away when I didn’t reply.
“I need time,” I said finally. “You’re right. We… There was progress last night, but I’m not ready for you to make love to me with all of that hanging between us. It’s too much. It’s more than just sex—”
“Of course it’s more than just sex. I am your mate, Estrella. We are incapable of anything less than the complete melding of our souls. If you’ve convinced yourself that all the times that came before this were anything less, then you are further lost to me than I thought,” he snapped, rising to his feet.
“That’s not true! In Calfalls, it was closer to anger than love,” I said, clinging to the fact that I’d given him a different part of me in that instance.
“Trust me, Little One; if it’s a hate fuck you’re after, I would be happy to oblige you right now.” He shoved his feet into his boots, grimacing as he stormed toward the entrance.
“Where are you going?” I asked, rising to my knees as the blanket fell around me. He paused there, the canvas fisted in his grip as he glared at me over his shoulder.
“You want time? Have it,” he said, tearing the flap open and stepping into the early morning sunrise. He turned to glare at me from the other side, the hatred in his gaze burning through me so hotly that I raised a hand to touch my heart. He ignored it, yanking the canvas closed and knotting it together to seal me inside.
Alone.
I stared after him for a few moments, convincing myself that he would come back. That there would be opportunities for me to put words to the torrent of emotion that plagued me, and to the confliction of hating him and loving him all at the same time.
It felt like he was unmaking me, unraveling everything I’d been raised to believe and forming something new its place. My soul, my heart, couldn’t stand the constant battle of confusion.
The mixture of want with the horror that followed it.
He didn’t return, leaving me staring at the canvas ties as my eyes burned with the threat of tears. I lay down on the bedroll, hating that it smelled of his unique spearmint scent, and stared at the canvas surrounding me, wishing I could undo that conversation.
Whenever I tried to articulate the feelings within me, I somehow made it all worse. I couldn’t fix it when he was just gone, but letting him inside my head wasn’t something I could accept just yet. There was no telling how he might use it to manipulate me into doing what he wanted.
My tears stained the bedroll beneath me, letting out all the anguish I hadn’t been able to release since I’d learned the truth. There’d always been prying eyes, always been my mate looking to see if I was okay.
The sound of canvas opening at my spine made me turn to see if it was Caldris who had returned, but I only found Holt standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. The blue markings across his chest gleamed in the gap where his fur coat didn’t cover him; how he could tolerate the cold winter air against his bare skin was beyond me.
“Get up,” he said, stepping forward and grabbing my boots off the ground. He set them beside the bedroll for me to step into, gathering my cloak from the ground and holding it out for me. “Time to pack up camp, and it looks like you’re with me today, Beasty.”
“Where’s Caldris?” I asked, standing slowly and shoving my feet into my boots. I tied the laces quickly, wincing when I thought of how often Caldris insisted on doing it for me. He’d been gone for a matter of moments, and the empty space he’d left already mocked me.
“Gone for a ride. He’ll catch up eventually,” he said, swinging my cloak around my back as I stood in front of him. Other riders of the Wild Hunt stepped into the tent, working to pack up the bedroll and the blankets as Holt guided me outside.
My steps faltered as I glanced around the campsite the Wild Hunt worked to dismantle. “He left?” I asked, searching for any sign of Caldris or Azra.
Holt only nodded, his lips pursed judgmentally as if to say just how badly I’d fucked up. “He left,” he agreed finally, guiding me toward his skeletal horse. “So now you get to ride with me.”