Page 125 of Until the Stars Fall

I’d found her, and I’d run from her.

Slamming my door closed, I dropped my forehead against the cold wood. A growl roared from my throat as I punched my fist into the door. What the fuck was I going to do? This should be a good thing. I should be happy. Lieke was my mate. She was the one I’d been waiting for—hoping for, even.

But it wasn’t supposed to beher.

It couldn’t be her.

Yet it was.

When our lips had met and she’d melted into the kiss, a jolt of energy had seared my nerves, my skin, my heart. Everything I’d known about the world and myself, about love and life, had been ripped from my mind and replaced with something new. It was like the world had shifted around me, and I could now clearly see my purpose.

My purpose was her and always had been.

It had always been her.

I knew her though. She hated having decisions made for her. She feared not being in control over her own life. I’d already taken that freedom from her once; I couldn’t do it to her again.

She could deny the bond.

My chest caved from the pain of that thought. To have her reject it, to live my whole life with a mate who didn’t want me? How could I ever take another queen after that?

You will if you must.You live to serve. What’s one more sacrifice for your country?

I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t put pressure on her to choose me out of some sense of obligation. Even if it meant forfeiting my own heart, I wouldn’t do it. If she recognized our bond herself, that would be different, though it was unlikely. Humans didn’t feel things like we did.

So that was it.

I’d made my choice. I would reject the bond. I’d live with this pain forever.

For her.

I’d barely lived with the pain for a few hours when someone began pounding on my door. Again.

I ignored whoever it was—as I had the previous two visitors—rolling over on my bed and placing the pillow atop my head. Just a few more minutes and they’d give up and leave. The knocking continued, loud and insistent. This one was apparently more tenacious than the others. When it finally stopped, I tossed the pillow aside and sat up. My stomach growled, angry at me for ignoring its need for sustenance, but I brushed off its protests as easily as I had the knocking.

I didn’t want food. I didn’t want visitors. I just wanted to wallow in my misery. At least for a few days. My duties as prince wouldn’t allow me much longer than that. Stars, they didn’t allow for even that long, but I needed time and space and—

“Connor Durand, you had better open this door right this instant,” a familiar voice bellowed from behind the door. Mrs. Bishop. I stilled, as if that could keep her from hearing my erratic heartbeat. When I still hadn’t moved after a minute, she resumed pounding on the door, and I remembered just how stubborn my old governess could be. Once, she had stood in the hallway staring at Brennan and me for nearly an entire day until one of us confessed to swiping a pie from the kitchen. When the sun had begun to set and my legs had started to shake with exhaustion, I finally spoke up. Of course she had sensed the lie the moment I opened my mouth, and she had withheld desserts from us both for an entire month.

No, there was no waiting out this old female. She would knock on my door until I answered, no matter how much work she had to abandon to wait me out.

With a heavy exhale, I stood and made my way to the door slowly, but I didn’t open it. The knocking ceased, and I braced myself for her to yell at me again.

Instead, she said gently, “I know you’re hurting, boy. And I know you think you can shoulder all of this on your own, but sooner or later, you need to stop carrying everything yourself.” My eyes closed as I mulled over her words, but still I said nothing. She sighed, her disappointment and sadness evident even through the door. After a moment, she cleared her throat quietly. “Take some time, and then talk to her. I’m leaving some supper out here for you. You need to eat. Just remember, I’m here for you. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

The tray clinked against the stone floor, and then her footsteps moved down the hallway.

As usual, Mrs. Bishop was right. I needed to talk to Lieke.

If only I knew how.

That night, I drifted off to sleep easily enough—thanks to the faerie wine I had hidden in my desk drawer. Unfortunately, while alcohol might help bring sleep, it did shit for escaping life’s problems. Although I’d successfully avoided Lieke all day by hiding in here, there was no evading her in my dreams. Every night since I’d saved her from the gallows, I had relived our encounters in my sleep—saving her, scolding her, challenging her, teasing her. Even in my dreams, though, I had never dared kiss her. It was as if my subconscious had been protecting me from discovering the truth.

Tonight, we were back in the room we’d shared in Linley. I’d dreamed this before, and everything appeared to be the same, with Lieke sitting on the bed, her legs tucked in front of her as I lounged on the floor and leaned back on my hands. Despite the familiar scene, something was notably different. Instead of an awkward silence filling the room, a tension now stretched between us, like a string being pulled taut, drawing us together.

It was the bond, of course. It had to be.

Lieke also looked different somehow, or perhaps there had merely been a shift in how I viewed her. Was this part of the bond as well? Her appearance was the same—her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders, her dark blue eyes shining as she stared back at me, her mouth still twisting into a scowl as if I had just done something to irritate her.

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