Page 49 of Break Her Heart
No, it had to be done. She had to hate me. She had to let go.
Because no matter how hard I tried to stop it, I still wanted her.
And I didn’t know if I could survive wanting her again.
Yet even now, I kept pulling her in. Marrying her. Binding her to me with blood and duty. Tricking her into exposing herself. Forcing her closer under the guise of protection. It was a noose I’d tied for both of us.
I was fucking insane.
She stirred.
A sharp inhale. A twitch of her fingers. Then a sound—soft, broken—slipped from her lips. A sound I’d never heard from her before. She bolted upright, hair wild, chest heaving like she’d clawed her way out of drowning.
Good for her for sleeping longer than I had.
I wondered what I did to her in her dream this time.
Her breathing slowed. Then her eyes found mine. Those eyes—damn them—still had the power to twist something sharp in my chest. Neither of us spoke. Then her gaze dropped. Just for a second. But I saw the shift. The heat behind it. She’d noticed I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
The air between us stretched tight like a drawn bow. Before anything else could be said—or done—I threw off the covers and stood.
“I’ll send word for Jane,” I said, tone clipped and flat. “We’re going to town to make the decree.”
“We’re going to do it? I thought you’d send word or something.”
I turned, just enough for her to see the edge of my expression. “Would you believe me if I said I had someone do it?”
“No.”
I nodded once. “This way you’ll know it’s done. And we can continue our work.”
I didn’t wait for her to answer. I walked to the wardrobe and yanked it open like it had insulted me, focusing on anything but the burn of her eyes on my back.
She tried to move quietly, but I heard her steps on the floor, soft and deliberate. My senses picked up everything—the shift of her weight, the rhythm of her heartbeat.
For a moment, I saw myself turning. Grabbing her, slamming her against the wardrobe just to feel her gasp. Just to feel something break. I blinked, and the vision passed. Control. I still had control.
I turned just as she stopped behind me. “What?”
She straightened. Close. Too close.
I thought this would be easier. But her scent ruined me. Sweet and infuriating. No matter how many reasons I gave myself to stay away, my body betrayed me.
I couldn’t let her pull me under again.
“Your eyes.”
I looked across the room to the small mirror at the dressing table to see red eyes looking back at me.
Closing my eyes, I calmed my hunger to bring back the human eyes I fought to wear. It was growing harder by the day. Having her near me without tasting her was torture, but I wouldn’t let that happen again.
I’d starve before I gave her that control.
15
Bronwen
August wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t let me out of his sight now. He watched Jane bathe me. He watched Jane dry me. He watched Jane brush my hair. I stared right back at him the entire time.
