Page 34 of Blood of Dragons
“I don’t care how hard it is.Look at me.”
My stare lifted again, seeing his dark eyes where that tiny fleck of gold shone deep in the sea of blackness. Memories I wished I’d forget rushed through me, all passing simultaneously, that last night together in the tent…that first night in his bed. My heart had never felt more alive…and never more terrified whenever I was with him.
He stared back, his look just as intense, his hard body even harder as he clenched every muscle inside his ripped body. Even when he sat, his stomach was flat and hard like the trunk of a tree. The lines that separated his groups of muscles deepened as his physique tightened. “You can’t kill me. And even if you could, you wouldn’t. I see it in your eyes as we speak. I said I cared for you, and I know you care for me.”
I was desperate to look away, to end the connection that gave him access to my soul, but if I tried, he would just command my stare once more. He hadn’t touched me, but he somehow controlled my body like he did.
“Let’s move forward.”
“Move forward?” I whispered.
“Come home, and let’s finish what we started.”
Home. It was the most painful word I’d ever heard. “You think that castle is home to me?”
He stared for so long it seemed like he wouldn’t respond. “I think I’m home to you.”
It took all my strength not to react, to hide my hand like my life depended on it. My eyes remained on his, and I resisted the sudden pain that burned in my chest, the heat that moved up my throat. “You think very highly of yourself.”
He regarded me in silence for a long time, that stare absorbing all of my emotions like a sponge. “Baby?—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You had no objection to it before?—”
“I said, don’t.”
He turned quiet.
I stared out the window, and this time, he didn’t demand my attention. “I wasn’t your baby then, and I’m not now… Nor will I ever be.”
He stared at the side of my face. “You’re angry with me.”
“You’re the reason my father is dead?—”
“That’s not what you’re mad about—at least, right now.”
I turned back to look at him again.
“You’re mad that I never gave you what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want anything from you, Talon. I always knew I was going to run.”
He was quiet, looking around at the surroundings for the first time. “I don’t believe you. There’s a difference between fucking and making love—and we crossed that line. I confided something to you that I’ve never told anyone but Khazmuda, and you have no idea how hard that was for me.”
“Making love?” I asked incredulously. “It’s not making love if you kick her out when you’re done.”
Victory moved into his eyes. “I knew it.”
I looked away again, reacquainted with all the feelings of hatred I felt for him. I hated his arrogance. I hated how he ran hot and cold, saying something that made me weak one moment and then saying something that broke me the next.
There was a long stretch of silence, so long it seemed like the conversation was over.
Then he broke that quiet. “Our ambitions haven’t changed, Calista. We still want the same things.”
I stared at a painting on the wall, an image of a flower in a pot.
“Come home.”