Page 12 of Stone Seduction
“Sorry,” I whispered, torn over asking him to join me.
I stretched my arms over my head, letting out a yawn. “I don’t think I’m in the mood anymore.”
Damn her. Asher gave amazing head.
“Yeah, probably not the best time for BJs.”
Although I giggled playfully, my horniness had officially left the building. The weight of fatigue hung from my limbs, and the reality of the evening came to slap me hard across the face.
Those tongueless enchanters had tried kidnapping me. I let that sink in as my feet shuffled me toward the kitchen.
“Oh, God…” I lost my balance, grabbing a dining chair before my face greeted the floor.
Kidnap. Steal. Take me to my death.
Oh. My. God. Dread joined the weight in my limbs.
A tangle of panic strangled my chest, anxiety rioting through me. I bit down on my bottom lip, struggling to curb the rush of emotions.
“Luke!” Asher was on me, steadying me.
“I’m…” I wanted to be okay. I wanted to throw up some defenses against the battering tide. To be strong, to draw on the determination that got me this far, that always helped me stay on course in my fight for Finn. Being a man caught between grief and hope never diminished the latter.
Ever.
Never give up.
Never give up.
Never give up.
But my walls crumbled, letting the flood in.
“I can’t…” I turned to face the gargoyle. “I can’t do this. I can’t be this thing, this key.” Tears welled, breaking free and running hot down my cheeks. “I can’t…I can’t…I could have died and been…”
A surge of sadness buckled my knees. I tumbled into Asher, burying my face in his chest. I clung to him in desperation, sobs tearing out of me in a violent escape.
He held me as I wailed.
“I can’t be this thing! I can’t be this thing!”
Asher tightened his hold, wrapping me in his protective aura.
If those bastards had succeeded, Finn would be alone in the world, his one hope extinguished.
I didn’t count our parents as being part of that hope. They just languished in their sadness and hatred for me, blaming me for Finn. Fuck them. Fuck their rejection, always putting me second. No. Not second. Further down the pile, lower than pond scum. Forever critical. Forever disappointed.
I hated the Dword. I hated the feeling of letting my parents down. No matter what, I wanted them to be proud of me, even if they never would be. And I wanted Finn to be back here in this lighthouse, sleeping in his bedroom, able to rise in the morning to join me at the table for breakfast and talk about our dream of opening a chocolate cocktail bar—combining my mixology skills with his chocolatier ones to create the hottest venue in town.
Damn. Being this key, this deadly power, heightened the risk of death, of losing all of that. And it tipped me over the edge, everything careening into violent anguish.
I clawed at Asher, trying to find a way out of the spiral, to get back on track. But I was too weak. When sorrow dug its claws in deep, you just had to wait it out until you could find the spark of determination to force it back into the wings.
Twenty minutes later, I managed to stand on my own again.
“Are you alright?” Asher took me by the shoulders, his lovely amber gaze nothing short of dreamy.
I nodded, sniffling, bashful heat in my cheeks. “Sorry about that.”
