Page 23 of A Heart of Ice and Shadow

“She was far from it,” he replied, coming to stand at the chair opposite her. Damara was actually one of the cleverest creatures he’d ever known.

Gwendolyn’s gaze followed him, her face scrunched defiantly. “You told me Nathan was a fool for not wanting me,” she reminded him. “Why can’t she be a fool for not wanting you?”

The words cut deep, through the ice and shadow that made up his heart.

Nathan. That was the name of the man she’d told him about in Abigail’s garden. The lover she’d had who was getting married. The lover who had hurt her and chosen another. His blood quickened. What he would do to this Nathan if he could. The thought riled him. Reminded him of the truth that Gwendolyn somehow struggled to see. That he was a monster. Worse, he was a monster who did not regret what he was. If she asked it of him, Sirus would happily hunt down that little shit Nathan, drag him back here, and make him beg her for forgiveness on his hands and knees until they bled.

Damara had known the truth of him, even if she’d never witnessed it firsthand. Sirus had not blamed her for her choice. He’d not blamed her for ending their liaison. Even if it had stung. The truth was, she’d given him a glimmer of something more. A glimmer of what it was to have something beyond the physical. He’s the one who had been the fool. He was the one being a fool now.

“It is not the same,” Sirus told her, his tone icier than he’d desired it to be.

Her irritation grew, her lips pursing as she glared at him. “Bullshit,” she bit back, coming around her chair to stand in front of him. “Nathan was an asshole, and I didn’t want him anyway,” she clipped. “He hurt me because he was a dick, but he didn’t break my heart. He didn’t have any of my heart to break.”

Sirus felt that statement reverberate through him. A possessiveness struck him. This other man had not held her heart. Hearing it was like a salve to the heat of his frustration, stroking over him in slow waves.

She’d not loved him.

“She hurt you,” Gwendolyn added, her tone softening. “You…” Her eyes fell as she tensed, unable to say it.

Sirus’s teeth ground. “I did not love her,” he said because, despite himself, he felt it needed to be said.

She looked up. “You…didn’t?” Something lurked there. Something he would not let himself unravel. Something that threatened to shatter the icy walls of his foundation into a thousand pieces. He wanted to be shattered.

No.

Yes.

Fuck.

Sirus took a half-step back and cleared the tightness building in his throat. He turned to face the fire before explaining, “No. I cared for her, but she was meant for another.”

It was the easiest explanation. Far easier than the details of the truth. Sirus had initially taken Lady Damara as any other lover because she’d made her interest in him clear, and he’d found her attractive. When she’d expressed a desire to continue their affair beyond just a few encounters, he’d agreed. Not many women ever wanted him more than once, let alone with regularity. Their dalliance had not been consuming but it was consistent over the two years they were lovers. He’d been shocked when she’d begun to converse with him about her life and her troubles. She’d told him of her reluctance to marry the fae to whom she was betrothed. It was why he’d come to her that night of feasting before her wedding. He’d thought perhaps she’d want something more. She’d opened herself up to him in a way no other woman had and he’d gotten swept up in it. So swept up he’d lost sight of the truth. She may have wanted him in her bed, but she never slept near him or lingered after their lovemaking, never asked him about himself. She was never tender or caring or kind or thoughtful. That final night, he’d come to her like a dog on a lead, and all she’d wanted was one last tryst before rutting with a vampire would be too beneath her dignity as a married Lady of the fae gentry. After she’d had Sirus there in that darkened hallway she’d left him without a second glance, in the shadows where he belonged, and had gone back to her party. To her life.

He’d felt disgusted in a way he’d not known possible. Damara had never considered him anything more than a plaything, and it wasn’t until the moment she’d left him standing there in the darkness that he’d realized how much of a fool he’d been. A fool for letting himself be tempted. A fool because he’d understood no woman could ever want him as more than a tool to slick her dark desires. He was a monster. A dog. Not someone to care for. Not a creature to love.

It was the cold wash he needed. Sirus was being that fool again. The last several days had been as close to blissful as he’d ever known. He was not entirely sure what had changed in Gwendolyn, but she’d gone from avoiding him to purposely seeking him out in the turn of an afternoon. Sirus hadn’t had the will to rebuff her. In fact, he’d found himself anxiously avoiding her so as not to overwhelm her. He’d realized a few days ago that if he could, he would be in her presence always. Gwendolyn was temptation itself in many ways, but this conversation was the stark reminder he required.

She was not for him. He was not for her. Sirus was not for anyone.

It was clear she was going to say something more. That she wanted to continue down this path of defending him and proving herself right. So he cut her off before she could begin anew.

“How’s your training with Niah?” he asked, changing the subject.

Her nose crinkled in that way he found utterly adorable, and his chest tightened. It was clear that Gwendolyn knew what he was doing, but with a huff she replied, “She makes me feel like I’m a two-ton sloth, the way she moves.”

Sirus crossed his arms over his chest and looked her over. He’d noticed her small grimace when she’d yanked the robe tighter. She was sore. “She can be unrelenting,” he commented with a touch of concern. He knew Niah wouldn’t push Gwendolyn beyond what she could handle. He was more concerned that Gwendolyn would push herself further than was reasonable.

She shrugged. “I like it. I’m learning a lot.”

Sirus knew as much. Niah had consulted him on her training. He’d advised her to start with stamina and basic defense. Barith had let it slip that Gwendolyn was a fast learner, and intuitive—neither of which had surprised him in the slightest. Apparently, she’d progressed quickly enough that Niah had already moved on to some offensive hand-to-hand maneuvers.

“Has she started with weapons?” he asked.

Gwendolyn tensed, her bright green eyes widening. Clearly they hadn’t. “No,” she confirmed a moment later. “We haven’t talked about that. I don’t think?—”

“You’d do well with knives or a short blade,” he stated in absolute seriousness.

Her face went a touch slack. She obviously did not agree. She braced a hand on her stomach to steady herself, and Sirus watched a range of emotions wash over her pretty face. At first, she seemed terrified at the prospect. Then, a touch of intrigue lit her green eyes. She let out a little stuttered breath that he recognized held anticipation. She was excited by the idea. At least slightly. Slightly was enough.

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