Page 151 of Alien God

He didn’t.

The only upside to the days blurring into each other without him – ten days, then twelve – was that I continued to get stronger. I wanted to make him proud, wanted to impress him with how well I was doing when he got back, which encouraged me to keep eating, keep drinking, keep trying to take a few shaky steps across the bedroom, holding tightly to Aiko or Shoshen’s hand.

After two miserable weeks, in the middle of the night, he finally came.

It brought back memories. Memories of our early days, when he’d disappeared into the Sionnachan villages every day and had watched over me silently at night. I could feel him there, bending over me just like he’d used to, even without opening my eyes.

“Wylfrael...” I turned over in the bed, reaching blindly for him, my hands tangling in his hair and pulling his face down to mine. He stiffened, as if afraid that even kissing me would hurt me, but then with a groan dragged his mouth over mine.

My heart hammered, slamming my chest with pain while simultaneously flooding the place between my legs with heat. I moaned and spread my legs, my nightgown riding up around my hips, my bare pussy grinding against the fur blankets, searching for him.

But he didn’t give me what I wanted, what I needed. He tore himself away, cursing under his breath, wings slamming open as he paced the room with raging steps.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Hurt, and not just physical hurt, plagued me.

“Stronger every day,” I said. “You’d know that if you’d have been here.”

It was like my words had stabbed him through the heart. He stopped pacing, agony scorching his features.

“I know!” he snapped. “I know. But Sceadulyr has me by the throat. Every time I tried to break the bargain or get leave to return to you, he dangled your death over my head like a cursed blade about to fall!”

“What are you talking about?” I cried, wriggling into a seated position, something I could do on my own now. “What the hell is going on, Wylfrael?”

He breathed out heavily, his broad, strong shoulders sagging. He returned to the bed, sitting on the edge and twisting his torso to face me.

“I have thought, long and hard, about how I would tell you what has happened,” he said softly. “About how I could explain this all to you.”

He looked so fucking sad that it scared me. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, chest pounding painfully.

“The first thing that I must say is that I’m sorry, Torrance. I am sorry for so much. I do not ever hope to earn your forgiveness, even though I am weak enough to want it.”

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

His eyes were haunted as they trekked over my face.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“Nothing!” I cried, all my confusion and frustration from the past two weeks flowing out of me like lava. “I remember the gathering. And Heofonraed. You went to go fight, to do the trial. And I was alone for so long. Fucking terrified. And then I got sick. Like I had a fever. I was so sick I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness because that’s where everything ends.”

“Fated bride of Wylfrael, starburning but afraid...”

“What? What does that mean? You’re not making any sense!”

He didn’t try to explain the bizarre thing he’d just said. Instead, he took in a short, sharp breath, and said, “I killed you.”

The world tilted, and I fought to right it.

“OK, now you’re really not making any sense. Pretty sure I’m alive and talking to you right now,” I snapped.

“You are alive now, it is true. Thanks to Sceadulyr,” Wylfrael replied.

I shook my head, over and over again, uncertainty rising in me like nausea.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“You’ve asked me, several times now, why I wouldn’t go search out my fated mate.”

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