10.

  Faelwen

  As I turned on my heel, the hem of my cloak whispering against the ground, I felt it again, that jagged ache deep within my chest. A silent scream tethered behind my ribs, echoing against the walls of my soul. Each step back toward Ash felt like walking against a tide, my heart being pulled in two directions. Opposing forces stretching it taut, threatening to tear something essential in me apart.

  The love I feel for these two man could not be measured on the same scale. They were stars in different constellations. Each brilliant, each necessary, each burning in their own way. But my soul… my soul was branded by Ash. His presence stirred something ancient and wild inside me. A golden thread wove between us, glowing softly within the very marrow of my being. It gave me strength in my weakest moments, wrapped me in warmth when the world turned cold.

  I closed my eyes, breathed in his presence, and reached inward, giving the thread a gentle tug. It tugged back as if saying: “Looking for me, darling?” I could almost hear his voice in my mind, low and rough with mischief. A smile curled at the edge of my lips, but it didn’t ease the war inside me.

  Spook. Gods, Spook.

  My love for him was a gentler tide, warm, steady, full of sun-drenched laughter and midnight secrets shared under starlight. It was the kind of love that grew in the safety of friendship, in the roots of something true and dependable. If Ash had never claimed me, if his shadow hadn’t fallen across my path, then yes. I would have chosen Spook. I would have built a life of joy and comfort with him. But fate… fate had other plans. And the connection I had with Ash could not be broken.

  The hairs on my neck stirred. An instinct before awareness. The air behind me shifted, grew heavier. A heartbeat later, a warm breath brushed across my cheek, and strong arms circled me, steadying me as though he’d sensed I might fall.

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  “Everything alright, darling?” Ash murmured, and his voice, the dark silk of it, sent a ripple of goosebumps down my spine.

  I didn’t answer right away. I folded myself into his embrace, letting his presence lessen the ache for a moment. He smelled of pine and late summer. I inhaled him as if he were a flower, wanting him in every way a soul can want, body, heart and something deeper still.

  Yes, I wanted this man.

  And yet…

  “Everything’s alright,” I said softly. “Spook calmed down after I hugged him. After we spoke.”

  I tilted my face toward his, catching the flicker of emotion that danced through his emerald eyes. Jealousy, sharp and fleeting, like a blade catching the light.

  “Don’t do that again,” he said, his voice quiet but taut, like a bowstring pulled too tight.

  “Do what?” I asked, though the answer trembled at the edge of my mind. A cold edge of fear brushed against my heart.

  “Send me away.” His jaw clenched. “I understand you needed to comfort him. He’s your friend. You care for him, but…” his hand slid up the back of my neck, threading through my hair, tilting my head so I met his gaze. “You belong to me. For as long as I draw breath.”

  A tremor passed through me, unbidden and fierce.

  “I know,” I whispered. The words slipped out like a vow, even as fear and desire twined together in my stomach, impossible to tell apart.

  “Don’t forget that.”

  And then his mouth was on mine, hard, hungry, urgent. Not a kiss of affection, but one of possession. His hand held me firm, the other pressing against the curve of my back as if to fuse our bodies together. Heat exploded through me. I clung to his shirt, grounding myself against the storm he unleashed in me.

  He bit my lower lip hard enough to draw a little blood, a slow, deliberate act, and I gasped, swallowing the sound as he moved to my jaw, then lower… his lips finding that sensitive place just below my ear. I trembled in his arms, overwhelmed. And then… he stopped. Pulled back. And the chill of absence rushed in.

  I opened my eyes to find his, darker than before and full of something raw.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone and lower lip with a gentleness that undid me.

  “You won’t,” I breathed. “Even if the Fiend himself came to claim your soul, I would walk into the dark to bring you back. You know that, don’t you? Our souls are bound.”

  A ghost of a smile touched his lips, aching, beautiful, and so heartbreakingly sad. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but instead, he drew me into his arms again, holding me as though I were the only thing keeping him from unravelling.

  I wrapped my arms around him, clutching him tight.

  And he held me back like he never wanted to let me go.