Page 217 of Seer Prophet

“A belt.” His voice sounded flat.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“Did you lie on her bed?”

There was a pause, then he shook his head. “No. I sat. In a chair.”

I nodded, swallowing. “You don’t want to show me?”

I felt that fear on him worsen.

He didn’t answer, and I clicked at him, shaking my head. “Forget it, Revik. I––”

“I’ll show you,” he cut in. “I’ll show you anything you want.”

I fought to think if I wanted to do that, given the fear I could still feel on him. It felt wrong somehow, when he wasn’t freely offering it.

“I am, though,” he said, softer. “I am freely offering it, Allie.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re not. You’re offering it because you’re afraid to say no. That’s not the same thing.”

There was another silence.

I bit my lip, not wanting to ask, but needing to.

“Revik,” I said. “Just tell me. Please. Tell me the truth.” I hesitated, watching his profile. “Am I not enough for you?”

There was a silence.

Then his light opened, all at once.

Pain slammed into me.

His pain.

It shocked me, hitting into me so intensely it disoriented me. He closed his eyes, letting out a low gasp. The gasp seemed to actually hurt him; it curled him into himself, hardening his face. It took me a few seconds to realize he was crying, that what I’d heard was him trying to suppress it. Fear expanded off him, off his light, along with a grief that cut my breath.

His pain worsened so much I couldn’t think past it.

It wasn’t separation pain that time. Not even close.

Without thinking, I wrapped myself around him, coiling my arm around his chest after I shoved it under his body.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured into his neck. “I’m sorry for asking that.”

He only shook his head, but the pain in his light worsened.

I let him cry. I didn’t try to talk to him again, or to read him. I waited until he finished. As I did, I realized I didn’t need to see it. I didn’t need to know the details of why he’d gone to Ullysa. I could feel it on him, even now.

I knew what this was about, what it was always about with him.

It wasn’t because he didn’t love me. It wasn’t even because he needed to be with other women… or men, for that matter.

It was about being left alone. It was about what happened last year.

“Yes,” he said, his voice gruff, still thick. “Yes.”

---