Page 90 of Savage Blood
So fucking lonely.
But for the first time, we weren’t alone. We had each other.
Our bond manifested in that moment, the last moment we would ever be alone because the link between us wouldn’t allow us to part.
Maybe the bond had formed from our longing, our desire to be seen and loved by someone who would never toss us aside because of our darkness and pain.
My neck tattoo tingled, and I sensed Fane’s presence as he silently entered his art studio, but I didn’t turn around, not even when his anger burned at my back.
“What are you doing in here, Teague?” His voice, a rough and terrifying snarl, puckered my flesh.
“Are you remembering?” I whispered, holding two pieces of the canvas together with my fingers.
Fane’s bitter laugh was a cold blade piercing my heart. “Of course not.”
I jerked around and wiped off my tears. “How do you explain your paintings? These are things Kaspin’s spell stripped away.”
Fane gave a lazy shrug, his muscles so tense that his black t-shirt threatened to shred right off him. “I’m just going on what people tell me.”
“Bullshit.” I shot to my feet and closed the distance between us, a streak of ruby flashing in his irises. “You’re getting your memories back.”
A sneer curved his mouth. “That’s wishful thinking, Teague. Those memories are long gone and never coming back.”
Rage pumped through my veins—for his frigid tone and for all the shit we’d endured—and I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out.
“Stop lying!” I slammed my fists into his chest over and over again. And he let me. “Stop pretending that none of this matters, that our story, our bond, our love doesn’t matter.”
The iciness vanished from his face, and he grabbed my wrists, yanking me into him. “Itallmatters.”
“Then why do you want to throw it away?” My voice broke on that last word, my bottom lip trembling.
“Don’t you understand?” The sharp edge of his tone softened and melted away. “Youare all that matters.”
The walls he’d erected to block his emotions suddenly crumbled, and the flood of his anguish hit me so hard I staggered back. The agony that washed over his features tore gouges in my heart.
I couldn’t breathe or feel anything but the sheer, overwhelming sensation of drowning in a never-ending abyss—a chasm of shadows so deep nothing else existed.
Fane was falling through it with no hope of ever finding the bottom.
Hot tears streaked my cheeks as I closed the gap betweenus again while his body trembled. How could he stand this feeling? How could he live every day and bear it?
Hedidcare.
He cared so much it crushed him.
“Why are we doing this? Why are we putting each other through this?” I asked.
“Because we have to.” He stroked his thumb across my cheek, smearing my tears.
“Aren’t you afraid, Fane?” I took a shuddering breath. “Saint is my fated. Aren’t you afraid that by getting close, my bond with him will grow and take root, forcing ours to bend and eventually snap?”
A humorless laugh spilled from his lips. “Our bond can’t break, fiera mika. You should know that.”
My brows knit, and I clutched his shirt as if afraid he’d vanish after those cryptic words. “But if Saint and I?—”
Fane shook his head. “Cirilla told us this bond, the one forged when I bit you, can’t be broken. Claiming each other and becoming mates in the shifter sense only fortified the link between us.”
“You’re not afraid at all?”
