Page 43 of Stolen Thorn Bride
He could do nothing.
And it was tearing him apart.
So he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, cradled her against his chest, and stroked the bright winter sun of her hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured gently, pretending with every fiber of his being that his own heart wasn’t breaking alongside hers. “I would do anything to change this. If I could win this war for you tomorrow, I would do it.”
Her face lifted suddenly, and she fixed him with a bleak, intent stare. “Don’t, Dechlan.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t convince yourself that everything would be better with just a little more sacrifice. Your death could never make me happy.”
Even if it meant she could be free?
“I did not mean it that way,” he reassured her, while silently questioning the truth of his own claim. If he could be certain that his sacrifice would free his people and his bondmate from the darkness?
He would give his life without a moment’s qualms.
As if she suddenly realized what was happening, Kasia went stiff in his arms and pulled away, swiping at her cheeks with her sleeve and avoiding his eyes.
“Now it’s my turn to apologize,” she said, “for mauling you so shamelessly. I was surprised to find Aral gone, but I swear I won’t make a habit of it.”
She was embarrassed by her emotions. Or at least by the fact that he’d seen them. It was surprisingly painful to realize that in some ways, she still feared him.
“Why not?” he asked bluntly.
“Why not what?” Her eyes went wide and darted around him as if she were thinking of making a break for it.
“Why would you not make a habit of sharing your feelings with me?”
“Because…” His questions clearly made her nervous. “I didn’t think you would want to be bothered with something so small and ridiculous.”
“You think your feelings are ridiculous?”
He had her off balance, so he didn’t let up.
“I don’t find this ridiculous, Kasia. Or small. Your feelings matter to me. I’m glad you trusted me with this, and I hope you will continue to trust me with matters that concern your heart.”
“But…”
He waited while she searched for the right words, various thoughts flitting across her expressive face before disappearing.
“But?” he prompted.
“Aureann!” she finally blurted out, and it was like a lash across his senses.
“What of her?” he asked, with a calm he did not feel.
His bondmate seemed to struggle with her answer, and her inner turmoil echoed his own. But after a moment, she somehow matched his calm and met his eyes more steadily. “I don’t want your pity, Dechlan,” she said clearly. “I don’t want you to care because you have to. I know you remain loyal to your first love, and there’s no shame in that, but I can’t let my heart come to depend on you when there’s nothing here for me in the end but disappointment.”
Disappointment? Did that mean what he thought it meant? How could she be disappointed unless there was something more that she longed for? Something she wanted from him that she didn’t believe he could give?
He caught her arm and searched her face, looking for any hint that he might be wrong. “Why would you be disappointed?” He needed to know. The prospect terrified him, but he couldn’t let it drop there.
Her shoulders straightened, and a sort of dignity settled over her features. “I could very easily fall in love with you,” she said softly, each word striking him like an individual blow. “But no matter how hard I try to fit in here, I’ll never be Aureann. I’ll never be able to measure up to her memory, and”—her face twisted with pain and regret—“my heart can only take so much more. I don’t think I can allow myself to love someone whose heart is already taken.”
Without another word, she left him standing alone, stunned and bleeding from a wound he hadn’t realized she’d known was there. But somehow, she’d ripped it open and let him see the depths of the pain he’d nurtured rather than allowing it to heal.