Page 151 of Once the Skies Fade

“I didn’t expect it to be here, of course. Thought surely our first shared dream would involve a bath.”

Calla shook her head slowly, and a silent “no” formed on her lips.

“Did Brennan never tell you about this little trick?” I asked, curious about how different their marriage had been compared to Lieke and Connor’s. Those two told each other everything.

“Shut up. Don’t say his name.” Calla bit out the words. Her lip curled into a sneer, matching the animosity I sensed as clearly as if it was my own.

I held my palms toward her in silent apology, but I didn’t retreat.

“Can you feel that?” I asked her, letting my humor fade from my voice.

“Feel what?”

“My remorse? My regret? My concern?” With each question I risked another step closer. Another few steps and I’d be within arm’s reach. Her anger, while still as clear as the guilt and shame swirling in my own veins, mixed now with a hint of doubt and a bitterness so stubborn, it was almost cute.

When she remained silent, I softened my expression and said, “You do, don’t you.”

“So what if I do,” she said, lifting her chin. “It doesn’t change the way I feel.”

“And what is it you feel?” I asked, despite my sensing it all already through our bond.

Calla’s deep brown eyes darkened as she tightened them, threatening to drown me in their intensity. Her mouth twitched before she finally said, “I hate you.”

As my eyes fell closed, I let a smile creep onto my face. Her words pricked me square in the chest, yet I cherished their bite––because they’d come from her.

“Why are you smiling? Did you not hear me? I hate you, Matthias.”

She drew out the last words, but it was my name on her tongue—even said in that context—that made every stab of rejection worth it. She’d never called me by name before, alwaysusing my title instead. When I opened my eyes again, I found hers glistening with heated tears. Two more steps nearer, and I lifted my hand to her face, noting how she didn’t recoil as my fingers grazed over the line of her jaw. My thumb traced her scowl, brushing lightly over her lips.

“I’ll take your hate, Calla. I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me. And if hate is all you can offer, I’ll take it a million times over, because an eternity of your hate is better than a lifetime without you.”

“I hate you.” She repeated the words, but already the anger behind them was wavering, making room for something else. “Why did you lie to me?”

Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, I yearned for her to sink into my touch, but she didn’t. Still, I kept my thumb lingering at her cheek, ready to catch her tears if they spilled over.

“I’m sorry.” My words fell out on a rough breath.

“Fuck your sorries,” she growled as she thrust her palms against my chest. “You lied to me!”

I surrendered, letting her shove me back. My hand fell to my side, but I approached her again.

“I know, Calla, and I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she whispered, but she didn’t stop me as I once again brought my hand up to her neck, following its curve until I cradled her jaw gently in my palm. She didn’t lean into me, but she didn’t pull away either. Drawing in a long, slow breath, she fisted her hands at my chest.

“I trusted you, and you tricked me.” She hissed the words as she beat her fists over my fractured heart. I didn’t try to stop her, didn’t grab her wrists, but stood there and took each deserved blow. Brushing my fingers past her ear, I buried them in her hair, fighting the urge to pull her close.

“I’m sorry. I had to. It was the job,” I said.

She lifted her fists to her forehead, driving my hand away from her and blocking her face from view. She shook her head, and her shoulders quivered with quiet sobs that pulsed through the bond, splintering my heart to match hers.

“Is that all I was?” she asked, her words muddled from her tears. “A fucking job?”

I couldn’t lie to her. Not again.

“At first, yes,” I admitted. As expected, she began to crumble, her shoulders curving forward as she tried to back away, but I couldn’t let her go without her hearing the whole truth. Wrapping my arms around her, I drew her to me, and with every squirm, every whimpered “Let me go,” I held her tighter, listening to our bond and the need she couldn’t—wouldn’t—voice.

“Stop, Calla, listen to me. Breathe, please, and listen.”

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