Page 132 of First Ritual
Rooke was watching me. “What makes you believe you’ve been possessed?”
Claws. Black Eyes. I’d woken with scratches, and that wasn’t enough to fill in the blanks. Not until I’d seen her during the affinity test. I knew what demons looked like. Maybe I hadn’t met one in person, but I’d seen them in books from Grandmother’s shelf.
“It’s a relief to know I was mistaken.”
“That’s not what you feel,” she said softly.
I pressed my lips together. “Please don’t take advantage of our bond like that.” Our tether lost some of its shine, and Rooke’s eyes welled with tears. I’d felt the blow too. Our tether had grown in leaps and bounds, but bonds took a long time to thicken and grow strong to withstand the natural ebbs and flows in a relationship.
I muttered, “I’m leaving.”
“You’re not leaving,” Wild hissed.
I spun, halfway to the door, and detonated. The walls shook in fear. Cracks of panic appeared in the ground. I would bring this fucking cave down in my rage. My hurt. My pain. “I’m a fucking demon, Wild. Is that what you want to hear? I have one inside me. Don’t you wonder why that creature appeared in you all of a sudden? I gave it to you. I did that. Me. I’m sick inside.”
No one spoke and it was as if each word had taken some of my strength away. The fear, panic, rage, hurt, and pain. They drained, and the shaking of stone abated.
The cracks seized their splitting rampage.
Sven was standing in front of Rooke. All of them were against the far wall except Wild. I swallowed at the horror and comprehension and disgust covering their faces. “Let me save you the trouble of pretending otherwise,” I rasped. “Let me save you the trouble of everything else to do with this mating ritual. I’m done. For good. Like I fucking said. Now you know why.”
I’d intended to march from the room.
I burst into tears. Huge, body-wracking sobs that hurt as they left my lips.
Arms wrapped around me. I was pulled tight against a warm body. The familiar rattle of pendants registered.
“Darling,” Wild whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He held me tight against his chest, and I had no option but to let my tears coat his pendants and soak his black tunic. “Don’t cry, Tempest. It’s going to be okay. This isn’t your fault.”
I shook my head.
“Stay back,” he warned someone.
Picking me up, he barked at Corentin to move out of the chair, and there we sat as I fell apart in his arms. Again.
In my adult life I’d never fallen apart for anyone. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d done so with Wild.
My eyes were swollen when I pulled away. At least I could banish all the snot, tears, and dribble leaking out of me. I did so before sitting up and tucking my hair behind my ear.
Wild used a finger under my chin to direct my gaze to his.
“Into my eyes,” he ordered when I looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t like to.”
“I know.” He paused. “Because you feel like you’re drowning. I remember.”
Drowning, yes. Like I stood on the precipice of a dark, endless sea of chaos. Like I would lose myself forever. “When I look into your eyes, I feel like I’m choking on the blackness again.”
His gaze shuttered. Wild was the one to look away this time. “Is that why you wanted to shut me out?”
I climbed off his lap, trying not to appear vulnerable after my display. I really wished the others hadn’t been here. They were just watching on, the same horror on their faces. I’d screamed at them about my demon.
Wild was right. I’d let myself get weak, and I’d just cracked because of it.
You idiot, Tempest.
“None of this is real,” I said, then louder, spinning back to Wild. “None of it is real! This mating ritual is…” I struggled to find a word to describe the absolute ridiculousness of the last two weeks.