Page 70 of Cursed Shadows 5

He finds me—reaches me… then stops just an arm’s distance away.

And still, I am unmoving.

Is this shock?

I should be speaking, shouting at him to leave and never return, to jump off the balcony and plummet. I should be backing into the door, running out of the dwelling, chasing my escape from him as he so ruthlessly chased his escape from me.

Yet, I am stuck. Rooted to the spot.

A victim of his soft eyes.

No words gather in me, no shout to rise in my throat.

For a long moment, we simply stare at each other.

Then those soft pink lips of his, they part, slow, hesitant, and he lifts his hand for my cheek. “Nari…”

The touch of his fingertips is fire igniting my soul.

I flinch and stagger back.

My cheek turns slightly, a rejection of him and his touch, a rejection I can’t summon with words.

Daxeel releases a breath, one I wouldn’t hear if the silence in the dwelling wasn’t so thick. His hand lowers to his side.

His mouth parts, uncertain, then he’s still for a moment, can’t summon the right words to speak before he settles on, “How are you?”

My lashes flutter, then—slowly—I arch a brow.

How are you?

If I had the strength, I would scoff at his grand question. I find I am numb.

“You look well.” That’s a lie, I hear it in the hitch of his tone overwell. “I… I fixed the door…”

My answer comes too quick, a hissed threat, “What are you doing here?”

Pain tightens his voice, defeats his eyes and numbs him from the inside out, like he’s little more than a spectre moving through realms. “I brought a gift—”

“I assure you, I don’t want it.”

His mouth tilts.

A flicker of cerulean eyes aims at the corner of the kitchen.

I trace his glance to the hound tucked into the corner, ears up, eyes flaring between us—but unmoving.

The pup is as uncertain and tense as we are.

“Her name is Hedda,” he says, soft. “My mother told me about what happened at the tavern. Hedda… once she is grown more… She will keep you safe.”

I have no words.

No answer to give, not even one unspoken from my mind. I just look at the pup for a beat before I turn to find him again.

He watches me, a faint frown stitched between his brows. His fingers twitch, an obvious ache to reach out for me again, to touch me.

Before the sacrifices, I might have dismissed it as an evate thing, the need to touch me to appease the animal within, but now… that is all gone. And so the urges must be vanished too.

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