Page 52 of Caging Darling

My feet, bound by the chains of my bargain, still lead me right back to Peter.

CHAPTER 19

“Iknow.”

Peter pauses. We’re in bed, and he’s kissing me like he needs me to breathe. Thus far, I’ve managed to keep him away from the buttons on my clothes.

Tomorrow, I likely won’t have the strength. Coming back to him, as soon as I entered his presence, my anger began to fade. Excuses for his atrocities caressed my mind, reminding me of all the reasons I should forgive him for what he did to Iaso.

What he did to Astor.

What he did to me.

It’s only because he wants me. It’s only because of his Mating Mark. Not really him. Just like it wasn’t really him in the Carlisle Manor. Just like it wasn’t really me who sliced off Astor’s hand or Renslow’s hand.

Just like it wasn’t really me who slept with Peter.

I can spot the fallacies in this line of thinking, but it doesn’t keep my heart from believing them. Believing them is so much easier than confronting them.

“Know what?” says Peter, pulling back from me. His face is soft, if not curious. He’s beautiful, and I want him to know what I know. That way, he can explain himself.

That way I can go back to being weak. To enjoying his touch without Iaso’s death plaguing me.

“I know what you did to…” I can hardly even bring myself to say it, but by the way he stiffens, I get the feeling he anticipates what I’ll say next.

Still, he cocks his head as if he’s oblivious. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain, Wendy Darling.”

His smile is so trusting, I want so badly to believe he’ll have an explanation. Perhaps the Sister was lying to Tink to taunt her. Perhaps Peter hadn’t corrected her because he was afraid of her.

“I stopped taking my faerie dust…” I say, tracing the skin of his forearm with my finger. He stiffens under my touch. “Well, really, I purged myself of it.” I don’t feel as if the drowning part is relevant, so I continue. “I wanted to see the wraiths. Wanted to hear what they had to say…”

Peter’s expression turns to stone, his eyes slightly widened, blank as he stares at me. As if he thinks one movement will give him away.

But it’s no use. I already know. “Peter, I love you so much.” It’s not difficult to infuse my voice with earnestness. Not when I feel it so deeply that it’s inextricable from my own feelings. I know it’s unwise to trust him, but I can’t help myself. I just ache so badly for him, I can hardly stand it. “But I can’t…It’s bothering me, rapping at my mind, and I can’t get it out. Please, I just need you to explain.”

Peter swallows. “Which wraith did you speak to?”

I frown, and start with, “John’s, but?—”

Peter stands from the bed and runs his hands through his copper hair, tousling it. “Why did you not tell me you were going to talk to him?” he asks, anger suffusing his tone.

I blink, confused. “Peter, I want to trust you. I know you. I know you’re good, that you’d never hurt me. I just need an explanation.”

Please. Please, any explanation for why you ruined my life, is what I don’t say.

Peter goes still, his fingers still splayed through his hair, his elbow pointed toward the ceiling. His eyes go distant, like he’s calculating a complex equation. Then they dart to the inside of my elbow, like he’s reassuring himself that it’s still there.

After a moment, he breathes, then softly climbs back into bed, placing a thumb on my Mating Mark and stroking it. There’s a gentle flame where he touches, my Mating Mark delighted to be reunited with its pair, even if the match is fake.

“Wendy Darling, I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier. I can see that now. But I was so afraid. I couldn’t see a way you could forgive me. Couldn’t see a way to make you understand. And you were so crushed, so lost, for so long. I was afraid telling you would break you. Just…promise you’ll listen.”

He wipes a tear from my cheek as I nod. His blue eyes turn grateful, like he’s shocked at my willingness to forgive.

“It was self-defense,” he says. I frown, unsure of what Iaso could have done to threaten Peter, but before I can ask, he continues. “You know I’m not myself when I’m in my shadow form. What he does when he takes over—Wendy, not a day goes by when I don’t wish I could take it back. I’ve gone to the Sister, begging her on my knees to undo what I’ve done, but she won’t. You have no idea how many times I’ve pleaded with her to find a way to bring him back.”

My mind snags. Him. But Peter’s not looking at me anymore. Instead, he’s staring at my hand, which he’s wrapped in his, where he’s stroking my skin like he can’t bear to look me in the face.

“I never meant for him to stop eating the onions.”

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