Page 45 of A Heart of Ice and Shadow

As he stood there, a war raged within him. On one side he desired to give her everything; on the other he feared what that would mean. There was a line he would not cross. Not even with his lovers. With Gwendolyn, he was not sure he could control his baser self, and Sirus knew if he hurt her he would never get over it.

With every ounce of control he had, he stepped back, away from her. “Sleep,” he repeated, drawing as much ice into his voice as he could. “You have training in the morning.”

She shifted in the darkness, her expression turning puzzled, then sad. It was agonizing.

“Why?” The word was sharp and full of emotion. Her eyes shifted in the darkness, unable to find him.

He took in a breath and held it, unsure as to how to explain.

Gwendolyn didn’t wait for his response. She let out a huff of deprecating laughter. “Is this some kind of kink?” she bit out harshly. “Fuck with the mortal girl and then drop her like a sack of potatoes?”

A surge of fear rippled through him. “No,” he declared flatly.

She snorted. “Then what?” she hissed, throwing her hands up then running them through her hair.

No words came to him. How could he explain himself? What could he say? That he was afraid? That he wanted her more than he wanted air in his fucking lungs? That he would give her everything?

She sniffled, and it nearly broke him. “I don’t know what you want from me, Sirus,” she confessed with clear confusion. “I don’t even know what this is. I just—” Gwendolyn shifted in the darkness until she reached the edge of the bed. She sat down, wrapping her arms around herself. “You know I care about you,” she admitted. “And I know you fucking care about me too, even if you won’t admit it.”

It was like an arrow through his heart. Aimed true and precise. Yes, he cared about her. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come. Silence was all that filled the dark expanse between them.

Gwendolyn shifted, looked away from where she assumed he was. Her face was pained. “Just go,” she mumbled.

In his long life, Sirus had felt knives and swords slice through most of him. But those two words pierced more acutely than any blade he’d ever felt. They drove directly into his heart.

“I do not trust myself, Gwendolyn.” The words came out hollow.

She blinked away tears, her face turning back toward him. Frustration and pain still lingered in her eyes. Sirus ran his hands over his face and down his beard, willing himself to speak. Wanting her to understand.

“I have lived lifetimes. I have done things you cannot fathom. There is a reason I am alone.” Her nose crinkled in that way he found so adorable, and Sirus forced himself to look away. “I am alone because no one has ever dared get close to me.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Not until you.”

Sirus heard her breath hitch, and he looked back up to find her sitting on the very edge of the bed. She stood and delicately padded closer to where she thought he would be in the dark. He did not go to her. “We cannot continue this,” he told her, knowing it was for the best. Feeling the warmth she’d filled him with turn to ice.

“The hell we can’t,” she snapped, so frustrated she ran into the back of a chair. Her eyes darted around, trying to find him. He knew they wouldn’t. He’d pulled the shadows in close. All that filled the space was utter darkness.

“I am vampire,” he told her. “I am not?—”

“Shut up!” she seethed. “Shut up, you giant, stupid vampire man!”

Sirus didn’t know what to do. No one had ever spoken to him so. Ever.

With a grumble of frustration, Gwendolyn held her hand out before her, and within it a ball of swirling blue light appeared. Usually, not even magick could reveal him when he pulled the shadows around him, but in the light of her magick he could not stay hidden.

Her eyes landed on him immediately, and her frustration shifted into something pained. Sirus felt exposed in a way that made every part of him want nothing more than to slip back into the darkness, but there was no running from this. From her.

Slowly, Gwendolyn edged closer to him, delicately balancing that swirling ball of light in her palm. When she was only an arm’s reach away, she stopped and let out a stuttered breath. “I don’t know what this is, Sirus,” she told him softly. “It freaks me the hell out too, but—” She shook her head. “But that’s only because I don’t know what will happen. What I do know is, these last few weeks with you have been—fucking great.”

Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm. His skin sizzled beneath her touch. She slid it down until she held his hand in hers. She turned his palm up and brought it to her lips, pressing a delicate kiss on the callused center.

“Gwendolyn.” He spoke her name because he could speak nothing else.

She smiled warmly up at him, and with a flick of her wrist dropped the light and cast them once more in shadows. “Do you want to stay?” she asked him again.

He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her fingers as they trailed up his forearm. He could not lie to her. Not now. “Yes,” he rasped.

She ran her fingers back down until they wrapped around his hand, and she pulled him back toward her. “Then come,” she told him. “Come lay with me.”

Whatever fear he had before seemed to evaporate as he followed her toward the bed. His heart thrummed in his chest. He thought he’d felt anticipation before, but nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to her.

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