Page 115 of Caging Darling

We had to start restraining him.Nolan Astor, who’s always been so keen on restraining himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper to the night.

I don’t know what to do with this information now that I have it. Clearly, if Astor wanted me to know, he would have told me himself. Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe in the almost two years that have passed since he crawled across his floor trying to get to me, whatever drove him to do that has faded.

He did sleep with that woman in the pub, after all.

My heart aches.

Maybe there was a time when Astor’s feelings for me were distinct from his mark, still there after I severed it, but only because it was how his heart was used to feeling. Like a wound that has healed but still hurts when you move it, only for your brain to eventually remember there’s no reason for the pain.

Maybe it was just his phantom love for me. His heart forgetting that there was no reason to love me anymore.

It could just be guilt now that propels him to protect me. Astor doesn’t want me dead, regardless of any romantic feelings that may or may not exist. Besides that, he had to have carried guilt that his actions led me back into Peter’s arms, Peter’s chains.

I place the notebook back on the bedside table.

For what feels like an hour, I toss and turn, unable to sleep, but as I try to force myself into slumber, all I can hear is Michael’s voice in my head.

Wendy Darling’s sleeping.

So I rise from the floor, draw a shawl around my trembling shoulders, and decide that Wendy Darling is done sleeping.

CHAPTER 41

Ifind him just where I expect him. In the crow’s nest of the ship.

I’m not sure whether I climbed up here to think, or if I was hoping deep inside he’d be here. I suppose it’s the first, since the bargain let me do it.

His silhouette is dark against the evening sky as he stares out across the Gathers. For all I know, he’s counting ships and doesn’t hear me coming.

“Darling,” he says, not turning around.

“Astor,” I return.

“I don’t think your lover would like it very much that you’re up here with me.”

“Are you asking me to leave?”

He doesn’t answer.

I swallow, aching to take a step forward, but I don’t. I back myself against the edge of the crow’s nest, trying my best not to think about the last time we were together in one of these. Back when I knew better than to love him and did, anyway. Back when, for the one and only time, he almost slipped and gave in to the temptation of me.

My heart aches, and my limbs are shaking. I should get down. This isn’t choosing Peter.

But as long as I stay over here, on the other side of the crow’s nest, it’s notnotchoosing Peter. I’m still choosing Peter as long as I keep my distance.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“There’s an extensive list of secrets you could be referring to, Darling. I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you came looking for me?” When he doesn’t answer, I grit my teeth in irritation. “You let me be so hateful toward you.”

“You deserved that release. It seemed cruel to take that from you.”

“You could have told me before I lashed out at you,” I say. “The night you came to get me from the Nomad’s room.”

He turns to face me, the moonlight highlighting the silver streaks that are just starting to form in his hair. “Is that what you would have wanted?” His gaze flits to my elbow, but it’s covered up. “Would you have wanted to feel confused?”

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