Page 91 of The Death King
“Then what does?”
“You’re offended.”
“Damn right, I’m offended,” I said. “You’ll fuck me, ask me to fight with you, but sleeping with me is just out of the question.”
His eyes remained down.
“Why?” I pressed.
“The reason you’re offended is the very reason I don’t want to do it.” His eyes lifted to mine.
I stared back blankly. “I—I don’t understand.”
“You’re asking for intimacy, and that’s something I won’t give to anyone.”
“I’m not asking for a marriage proposal or something serious?—”
“Let me put it into terms that you’ll understand.” Anger simmered within his gaze, a quiet rage that he restrained. “Since the moment we met, I’ve given you a choice. Nothing happens unless you want it. If you ever tell me to stop, I stop. I listen. You don’t need to tell me what happened to you to earn that respect from me. So now I’m telling you—stop.” His eyes showed the depths of his emotion, of his pain mixed with fury. “I don’t want to do it, so stop asking me.”
He’d turned the tables on me, and now I felt like shit. “Could you tell me why?—”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t have to justify my feelings.”
“I’m not asking you to explain yourself. I just want to hear your story…because I care for you.”
He severed eye contact, and this time, it was permanent. He moved to leave the tent.
“Talon, I’m sorry.”
He didn’t flinch in his departure. The flap closed—and he was gone.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the day, and when night came, he carried my bedroll to Khazmuda and placed it on the ground. He walked off without saying a word, taking his bedroll and dragging it inside the tent where he would sleep alone. The flap closed and it went quiet. The fire in the center of camp continued to burn, growing dimmer as the wood turned to ash.
I got into the bedroll on the cold ground, the air painful on my legs.
Then Khazmuda circled me, his snout toward his tail the way a dog slept, and his large wing covered the dark sky and sealed me in darkness.
A couple moments later, I felt it. The heat.
I slept close to his belly, so I reached my hand out to feel the smooth scales, to feel the warmth that immediately prickled my palm. It was like sleeping in front of a fire, but without the flames and the smoke. It was just as warm as it’d been in Talon’s arms.
Is this okay?
Yes…I feel like I’m inside the castle in front of the fire.
Good. We fixed one problem, but now we have the other.
What do you mean?
I made you warm. But now you’re sad.
Why do you think I’m sad?
Because I can feel it.
I turned on my side and stared into the darkness, unable to differentiate anything in this abyss.
May I ask what happened?