Slowly, her senses returned, and she laughed when she realized how out of place Conor looked in the frilly garden bedroom she’d come to love. His quiet, concerned brooding was in stark contrast to the sheer embroidered floral hangings around the canopy bed and the soft green curtains.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said between sips of water.
A smile broke over his face like the sunrise over the sea. Rowan tried to ignore the swell in her chest at the sight of it. He was always handsome, but his smiles were a rare treat, and the warmth that buzzed through her when she earned one sent her reeling every time.
It would be best for her to get back to Ballybrine sooner rather than later. Her gaze shot to the windows. She watched through the spiderwebs of frost on the glass as dawn reluctantly pulled back the heavy curtain of night, revealing a vibrant sunrise. Rowan instinctively slid her hand into Conor’s. She was alarmed at how natural it was to want to share every beautiful, wondrous thing with him.
He watched the sunrise with the same intensity she did. How many sunrises had he seen? Still, he managed to look as full of awe as she felt.
Forgetting herself, forgetting her anger, forgetting reason altogether, she leaned over and pulled him into a gentle kiss.
“The ease with which you separate me from good sense is alarming,” Conor sighed against her lips. “I hope that it never fades.”
His admission warmed her. It was easy to look at Conor and see a powerful being—the god of death, the Wolf—but he seemed just as in need of gentleness as anyone. Rowan understood. When the world saw fierceness, they assumed that was all that existed.
Guilt crept in, snapping her out of her revelry. She’d walked out of Maiden’s Tower in the middle of the night, leaving no note or sign of where she’d gone. When Aeoife woke, she’d be worried sick. Mrs. Teverin and the elders would likely see her footprints and expect the worst.
“I have to get home,” she said, standing and nearly falling over from the rush of blood to her head.
“Easy, lass,” Conor said, steadying her. He helped her put on a dressing gown before walking her down to the dining room, where breakfast was set on the table.
“We still need to talk,” Conor said.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and all at once, she was happy to reacquaint herself with her anger. She wore it like a cloak to protect her from the chill of heartbreak. Any barrier she could place between herself and Conor was a welcome one.
Even with her lack of experience, she knew what haunted her heart. Love had no instructions, no rules, no reason, but it was the kind of thing that she didn’t need external confirmation to know she felt. She didn’t need a test or guide to know the potency of her emotions.
She willed the feeling to fade as if desire alone could snuff out the warmth that bloomed in her chest. Despite her best efforts to keep herself barren, desolate, and cold, something wild took root. She had better sense than to let hope in, but the frivolous desire tugged at her.
She busied herself by shoving bacon and toast into her mouth before she could say something stupid.
“Why don’t I start?” Conor proposed. “I’m sorry that I made you believe for one second that I am anything other than crazy about you. I panicked. It has been a very long time since I’ve cared so much for someone. To be honest, I don’t know if I ever have. I was careless with you, and you deserve better.”
“I do,” she said, taking a bite of her toast.
“I got caught up in you,” Conor started. “You are terribly easy to get lost in, Rowan. You let me be exactly as I am, and I forgot to keep my guard up. I stole life force from you, and that’s why you slept so long. It’s why I panicked and sent you away.”
Rowan swallowed hard. Everything finally made sense.
“Why didn’t you just tell me what you did? We could have figured it out together,” she said.
“Because I knew you would say that. I knew you wouldn’t leave me if I didn’t make you,” he said, shaking his head. “You have been taught to put yourself last at every turn, and I won’t be another person who asks that of you. I knew that getting closer to you would only mean our mutual destruction.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Rowan, I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I hate that I took something from you. I hate that I couldn’t help myself. I hate that I’m so overwhelmed around you I have no control. My entire existence has been about control, and just a few weeks with you, and I’ve lost my mind.”
“But I’m okay now?” she asked tentatively.
Conor nodded. “I don’t quite understand it, but Charlie confirmed that your aura was back to its usual brightness before Valen attacked you. It’s as if it never happened.”
“So what’s the problem, then?”
“How are you not angry that I stole your very life force from you?” Conor asked, his voice taking on a hint of anger. His eyes darkened, the gray and blue swirling like storm clouds. “The problem is that I took it to begin with. That I didn’t even notice until Charlie pointed it out. Even if you’re better now, I don’t understand how that is, and I don’t feel confident that it won’t happen again. I can’t be someone else in this world who is content to take from you.”
Rowan chucked a muffin at him. “I’m angry because you didn’t trust me to be able to handle a conversation about it. You didn’t trust me to be reasonable.”
“Would you have left me alone if I’d told you?” Conor asked.
“No, but I still deserved to know the truth. You hurt me on purpose. You knew how vulnerable I was, and you chose to hurt me instead of trusting that I could handle the truth.”