Page 96 of Bound
I nod. “Thank you.”
His head inclines in what I want to call a gentleman’s bow. Then he turns on his heel and leaves.
“Gage?” He stills at the edge of the pavilion. “I mean it. Thank you.”
He peers over his shoulder at me. “I haven’t gotten them back yet, Amoret.”
“But you will.” Despite the pain in my heart, I can’t stop my surety in him. My trust. He has not led me wrong yet. Only my heart has.
Gage turns a bit to face me, his expression empty. “Why do you have so much faith in me, Amoret?”
The question rocks me back. “Why shouldn’t I?” I ask. “Are you not doing everything you said you would? Have you not protected myself and the others? Have you not looked for Branwen every day since they took him?”
Every question seems to settle over him.
I take a step closer. Then another. “I have faith in you, Gage, because you have never given me a reason not to.”
“And yet, every time you look at me now, there is a sadness that wasn’t there before.”
My lips part.
He faces me in the dim pavilion, his body so much muscle under his wet, all black clothes. But I know his skin will be just as hot as before. I could press myself to his chest and never be cold.
“Amoret—”
“Gage—”
My lips quirk. “Sorry,” I murmur.
He walks over the stone floor, his boots silent. “I didn’t want this,” he says. “I knew bedding you was wrong. I knew it and didn’t care.”
My stomach curls into a knot and it grows hard to breathe. “Gage. Don’t.”
His hand raises, halting me. “Let me say this, Amoret. You need to hear it. Then, if you still …” He falls quiet, his eyes darkening. But his gaze is not fixed on me. It’s over my shoulder. “Amoret, walk toward me.”
Unease leaves my limbs leaden. I take the first step. Then another before darting over the space toward him. He clamps me against his body and a ring of fire raises around us, the ethereal green tendrils casting light over the underside of the roof.
And across the nest of dark-clad men now standing outside the pavilion.
