“To offer you as your mate.”
Malcolm would’ve sworn she'd turned to stone if he hadn’t just watched her smile.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she suddenly exclaimed, not facing him.
“I know.”
“For how long.” She eyed him.
He shrugged. “Since the first night.”
She searched his gaze before she turned away, a small smile coming to her lips. “Then why didn’t you call me out on it?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“You?” She shook her head. “What could you be afraid of?”
“That if I pushed you, you’d leave,” he bluntly confessed.
Even now, he was afraid she’d walked away from him.
“I probably would have,” she said, looking down at her hands. “But even if I did, I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. After all, you did save my life.”
“I am not as kind as you think. I would do anything to keep you by my side.” I should have demanded answers and helpedyou face your demons, but the idea of your leaving terrified me more.” Malcolm freely exposed himself to her, believing that if he didn’t tell her the truth, he’d hide it like a coward, never chancing her becoming disgusted with him.
Eliza stared at him thoughtfully when she said, “I can’t imagine you scared; it’s even harder to imagine you terrified of anything.”
“There are many things that scare me,” he said softly, looking away from her. “I fear you’ll realize how much a monster I am and leave.”
Gathering her hands behind her back, she chucked, “I thought we already covered this. If you’re a monster, so am I.”
“That’s different,” he said, his brow creased. “I wasn’t in your situation; everything I did was with my consent. Somewhere inside of myself, I wanted to do the things I needed to do for Tiller. You should hate me,” he said, staring at his hands.
“Do you want me to?” she asked. “I could resent you, you know. I could resent you, but for what? Not wanting to lose me. For not wanting to show me your ugly side?” She smiled. “Then wouldn’t I have to hate myself?” She motioned to her body, her disguise melting away. “I’ve been made into a living female version of Frankenstein, and I’m a witch, a double whammy of problems.”
“I could never hate you,” he said. “Your existence saved me.”
Eliza's gaze deepened with sadness.
Seeing it, Malcolm reached out and took her hand.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She smiled sadly. “You just reminded me of my mother for a second.”
Eager to know more about her past, Malcolm asked, “What was she like?”
Her gaze trailed off, and she stared ahead. “I think she was a woman who expected a lot out of life, and when it didn’t go her way, she did her best to fix it.”
“Did it work?” he couldn’t help asking.
“No, it didn’t,” Eliza said, with no emotion. “She adopted me to repair her marriage. You see, she couldn’t have children, and so she thought adopting me would fix them, but it didn’t. My existence just became another weight around her neck.”
“What happened to her?” he asked, touching her shoulder.
“I guess everything grew to be too much for her, and she drowned. I always think back to that day, you know. I’d spent so much time trying to hide my oddities because she’d always get this worried look on her face. Since the day I turned five, I would tell her about the things I could see. She would fret and worry; I hated that. I hated seeing my mother so worried. Some part of me feels like if I’d spent more time paying attention to her rather than trying to hide my abilities, I could have saved her.”
Malcolm couldn’t help himself and pulled her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her.