Page 100 of Live To Tell

The rain soaked through his hood and dampened his hair, which he shakes from his face as he stares at me. “I chose to hold back because of you. Partly because you still frightened me, and I worried about the consequences if I overstepped the mark. I once told you that we’d be strong together and tonight, I realized the opposite. You’ve weakened me.”

“Your magic doesn’t look weak to me.”

“No. You weakened me.” My hips press into the bench as he edges closer and brings the darkness with him. “I won’t be him anymore, Violet.”

His damp chest presses against my soaked sweater, as he places palms on the bench either side of me. “Is this really about the Circle?” I ask, breaths quickening, this different Rowan unsettling me to the point of fear. Not for myself—fear that I’ll need to retaliate and hurt him.

“Your actions are the catalyst. I’ve had enough of the obsessed Rowan who thinks of you before himself all the time.” He holds his face closer. “Why should I deny what I am and what I can do?”

My throat bobs. “I never asked or expected you to.”

Rowan scoffs again, then slides a hand along my face, fingers spread across my cheek as he holds the back of my head. “Do you feel the difference, Violet?”

Too much. The power around Rowan flares as he touches me, and my heart shudders as my magic courses to his fingertips.

“I want your darkness, Violet. I want you to accept mine.” His lips touch my mouth as he says the words, and I can taste that shadowed place, the danger running between us. Rowan’s restraint has filled a pool of darkness inside him, and I’ve smashed through the wall of the dam holding that magic in.

Like meets like.

I’m capable of pushing Rowan away, fighting as we did before, but there’s a delicious attraction to his power, the magic from his fingertips tripping along my skin. Through my blood. My bones. My very soul.

The physical ache that Rowan’s touch causes has never been satisfied, and right now that ache overwhelms me. Sexual desire for Rowan is another ‘something’ to deal with, and I’d put his restraint down to awkwardness. I’d welcomed the avoidance and held back too, even after our conversation in his room.

The Rowan whose body touches mine now, the furious desire in his eyes as his magic pulses between us, isn’t that guy. Yes, Rowan has kissed me in a way that brought me to the heady center of where our magic converges and pulled me towards tasting the power he suppresses, and I’ve loved those moments more than the gentler ones.

But we’ve always stopped.

“Will you accept who I am?” he says, voice harsh. “That I’ll go as far with my magic as I want. Because I’m not holding back from you anymore, Violet.”

His other hand moves to press fingers into the small of my back, nudging my knees apart until he’s between them. Our breaths mingle as he waits for my answer, stroking a cheek with his thumb.

“You’re not only talking about magic, are you?” I say and move my face closer, the charged space between our lips shrinking. “Are you, Rowan?”

He mutters something under his breath and grips my hair with his other hand, tugs my head back, and kisses me the way I like. His lips are firm, frustration pouring from him, as he delves his tongue deeper into my mouth. Rowan presses me against the bench, and I steady myself with a hand behind, knocking seedlings to the floor.

Rowan’s face is damp against mine, and he tastes of the shadows that wind us together, his kiss and touch harsher than ever. I can’t move from the grip on my hair, shocked at how I don’t care because I want to dig into the place that holds the real Rowan and sink myself deep.

My hair winds further around Rowan’s hand, a demand not to move, and as his damp body warms mine, his magic isn’t what fills my veins. The white-hot heat that burns through is the desire I shy away from, even though I want him.

That aching desire overtakes me, but as soon as I put my hands on Rowan, he pauses, breathing against my mouth, saying nothing. He releases my hair and my scalp tingles to match my lips.

Sucking in a breath, Rowan pushes himself away from the bench again and wipes water from his face. I reach out. “Rowan.”

He stares at my mouth, quiet, listening to my breathing. Then he makes to walk away.

“Rowan!” I snatch his arm, touching the shadows clouding around.

Rowan looks down at my hand, then slowly his eyes meet mine. “The night of Kai’s eighteenth. Do you know how fucking rejected I felt? How pissed I was at myself for not telling you that I wanted you to stay the night? You didn’t even speak to me about it.”

“I avoided discussing the situation,” I admit.

“Why? We were closer. Hell, we even went on dates recently. Spent time together and actually enjoyed ourselves. I wouldn’t have pressured you but at least we could’ve talked about it. We’ve been alone enough for you to know I’d never do anything you didn’t want. I get that you’re not normal about all this relationship shit, but did you never consider I’d be happy just to have you there, with me? To sleep with you—hold you, wake up with you beside me?”

“And do you really think that’s all that would’ve occurred?” I ask stiffly.

Rowan steps forward again. “Yeah. Actually, I did, because you’re not interested in anything else. Which I respect. That’s why I’m walking away now.”

I push wet hair from my face too. “Perhaps we need to discuss the subject now. I feel there are still misunderstandings.”

---