Page 74 of Synodic

“Then help me understand. I’ve been trying to understand you for weeks.” My temper was taking over. For all I knew about him, he may as well still be the cloak-and-dagger figure hidden within the shadows of my darkness.

Now that I was awake, I felt further away from him than ever—this beautiful man who had stolen a piece of my soul on the edge of darkness. But it seemed he held no piece of me, nor did he want to.

I had warned myself that he was dangerous, but I just couldn’t resist.

“Understand that I need to keep you alive. I almost failed at that today, more than once. Do you think I could live with myself if anything happened to you?” His voice was strained and the muscles in his jaw and temples hammered.

“And what about me? Keeping you alive. Protecting you!” I made a broad sweeping gesture at his bandaged body, the cave, and the burning fire. “I still managed to do it without being a cold, insensitive asshole.”

He cringed at that last part. Good. He knew it wasn’t a compliment.

“Thank you for saving me. I’d say I owe you my soul but it’s already yours. It’s my heart I can’t give,” he said with near pleading in his eyes.

It cut me in two. One half knowing somehow he was mine, just not in the way I wanted, the other half trying to understand the unfathomable pain of losing someone you love.

The flaring shadows of the fire bounced off the cave walls and onto his skin, making him appear like a lenticular picture. From one flicker of light to the next, with strobe-like precision, he flipped between two images. One moment he was the man who wanted to kiss, burn, and claim me, the next he was the stranger who kept me at a distance.

“I understand you feel some sort of misplaced obligation to keep me safe, but let me just relieve you of that right here and now,” I said, my timbre rising. “I don’t need saving.”

His voice remained infuriatingly calm. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“You don’t get to make those kinds of decisions,” I snapped harshly.

“Like hell I don’t,” he said, closing the distance between us and grabbing me by the shoulders. He towered over me and held me within his clutches like a beautiful monster, unsure of whether he wanted to kill or claim me.

Without warning, Rowen swayed on his feet, and caught himself with a bracing hand against the cave wall.

Wow. I was a piece of work. Wanting something from a man who—making it out of this cave alive was still very much a touch-and-go scenario at this point.

I put my hands on his bare corded arms. “You’re still burning up. You need to rest.” I helped lower him to the ground then grabbed his bloodied shirt and rolled it into a pillow to place under his head, giving him some comfort against the hard, unforgiving ground.

I crouched beside him and cupped his beautiful fevered face in my hand. “You and I, we are okay, alright?” I said softly. “Just focus on getting better.” His eyes were exhausted, painted with dark purple smudges, and a whirlpool of agony swirled in his gaze.

A chill crept over me, either from the defeated look on his face or the cold draft, I didn’t know, but I shivered just the same.

“You’re cold.” Rowen gently took hold of my hand. “Lay with me?” he asked.

I nodded inherently as if he’d asked me this question a thousand times across a thousand different worlds, and my response was always the same.

He pulled me down into his all-encompassing embrace and cupped me within the curve of his body. He curled one arm under me until my head rested on the nook of his shoulder, and his other arm wrapped around my ribcage, landing a palm on my stomach as he pulled me closer. The fact that I fit so perfectly along his body was equal parts pleasure and pain.

I didn’t know how it was possible, but this felt just as intimate as our kiss. Maybe even more so.

“I can never love anyone again,” he said into my hair. “She made sure of that. But if this is the only way I can have you for one night, I will selfishly take it.”

I wasn’t sure if it was him or the fever talking, if he would even remember any of this come morning. But if he could be selfish for a night, then so could I.

I nuzzled deeper into him, and just as he’d always been there for me, I would not let him face this night alone.

27

Sleep hadn’t come easy on the cold, hard ground of the drafty cave. The storm persisted all night and the man I’d been entangled in was fighting for his life.

Not once did he let go or loosen his hold on me, as if the only way to make it through the night was to fuse our bodies together and draw from each other’s strength.

The helpless worrying of whether Rowen would survive had felt endless, while lying peacefully in his arms flashed by in an instant. But when I woke he was no longer holding me, and I twisted up, rising on my elbows to look for him.

He was seated beside me with his elbows on his knees, the distance reinstated between us.

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