Regret

Regret
Mara

I stare at the closed door for a moment, not knowing what to expect when I turn around to face Kaelith. The silence is so loud, his presence so tangible even as he stands on the other side of the study.

I force myself to face him, ignoring that longing in my heart that wants him and only him. He’s still rooted in the same spot, with one hand resting on the edge of the desk.

My heart lurches in my chest, craving his touch regardless of what Nerion just said, regardless off the fact that the magic in me isn’t pulling me toward him.

It’s not the magic. Not with him.

Kaelith’s red eyes are sharp, tracing down to the hem of the shirt. I look down at it, pursing my lips.

“You don’t like me wearing Nerion’s clothes?”

He tenses, as if caught, flicking his eyes back up to me. “No.”

I swallow, feeling a bit ridiculous that my guess was wrong.

“It’s not just Nerion. I don’t want you wearing anyone’s clothes.”

My heart, my stupid, selfish heart does a flip in my chest. Without hesitation, I pull the shirt off. Kaelith’s eyes widen, jaw clenching as he shakes his head.

“Mara,” he growls.

I still, the shirt hanging from my fingers as my skin pebbles beneath his gaze. His eyes move over me before he forces them back to my face. The effort it takes him is obvious in his tight jaw and hands curled into fists.

“You said you didn’t want me wearing anyone’s clothes.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get naked,” he growls, taking a slow breath in through his nose. “You are testing me.”

His gaze drops again, and this time he doesn’t look away quickly enough. My heart stutters. I see him so clearly now, right in front of me as if he is the answer to all the want in my chest.

And yet, it was not his face that was clear in my vision. I take a step toward him, reaching out, knowing deep down somewhere that when that vision clears, it will be him. I let the shirt fall from my hand, and it lands on the floor with a thud.

Kaelith mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t move away from my approach. He stands completely still, so stoic that it drives me insane.

I grab the wrist of one of his hands, placing his palm against my waist. “Why do you not want me?”

“I never said I didn’t want you.”

I run my fingers up his arm until I wrap them around his bicep. “Yes, you did.”

Kaelith’s eyes remain locked on mine as he shakes his head. “I said I cannot be your mate.”

My chest tightens, but I keep my resolve. “What will you do when the ritual does name me as yours, you as mine?”

He steps back as if I’ve burned him, red eyes flashing as he takes his hand away from my skin. “It will not, Mara.”

I don’t want to keep talking in circles. This can’t be another conversation we have that leaves us both upset with the ending. I close the distance between us entirely, wrapping my arms around his neck and push myself onto the tips of my toes.

My lips meet his and he remains just as still as before. I know it’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss me, I know he’s holding himself back. So, I do not pull away.

It takes forever before his mouth moves against mine.

It’s soft at first, as though he’s allowing himself only the smallest taste of what he wants. His hands remain at his sides, fingers curled tightly into fists, but when I press closer, he can’t hold it back.

He settles one hand against my waist and lifts the other to cup my cheek, tilting my head as he kisses me deeper. I’ve missed him. Missed his touch, his tongue, his lips. His kiss deepens, all restraint disappearing for a moment. His hand tightens around my waist, pulling me against him, and I feel the possessiveness in the way he holds me.

His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that makes my knees weak, and I cling to his shoulders.

He pulls away, no warning, no slowing down, just a sudden absence that leaves me breathless. I make a small sound of protest before I can stop myself, my hands tightening around his shoulders.

His forehead rests against mine, eyes closed. “We need to get out here before I do something we’ll regret.”

I shake my head. “I won’t regret it.”

His eyes open, and the conflict inside them is so raw that I almost wish he would look away. “Thane has to be next.”

I swallow. “There’s no wiggle room there?”

He frowns at me, and I sigh, clarifying what I mean.

“Will the ritual not work if I lie with you again? Before him?”

His jaw tightens. “It won’t.”

I stare at him, disappointment burning through my eyes.

He looks away from me. “Thane must bond with you before I touch you again.”

I try to swallow around the ache in my throat. “Okay.”

He watches me for a long moment, expression unreadable to me. While he stays still and silent, I can see a thousand feelings rushing behind his forced mask. Why does he not just take it off with me?

He lifts his hands, brushing his knuckles down my cheeks until they caress the sensitive part of my neck. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply as I let that feeling of him rush through my spine. It travels down from my neck to the tips of my toes.

“I’m sorry I’m not the man for you.”

I ignore his apology. I refuse to acknowledge it.

But when he drops his hand, it’s as if the air itself is punched out of me.

I don’t move. I can’t. It feels physically impossible. I settle for staring at the wall in front of me, the one lined with bookshelves and old, dusted books. The desk at my side, maps and journals littering the top.

Kaelith moves, stepping away from me, behind me, toward the door. Each step he takes feels like a stab in my chest. I want to turn around and stop him, to fight for him again and tell him that he’s wrong.

But nothing will come from that. So, I stay exactly where I am, running my fingertips across my cold, naked thighs.

I press my lips together, refusing to let the sob building in my throat escape. I wipe at my cheeks, reminding myself that I have to walk out of here and find Thane.

My eyes squeeze shut.

I hear him open the door behind me, and it pulls at my heartstrings again. I know he can hear me crying. I know he can smell the saltiness of my tears. It doesn’t matter, though, he walks through the doorway as if nothing happened.

I’m alone.

I take a deep breath, wanting the ache to leave me, to disappear. It spreads instead. It deepens in my ribs, pulsing as if it has a life of its own.

Warm magic rushes to comfort me, wrapping around me like a hug. It coils beneath my heart, gathering around the pain like it is trying to shield something fragile.

Another pulse rolls through me, stronger this time. I can’t breathe.

My pain and magic fight, and I don’t know what will win.

The books on Kaelith’s shelves tremble. I press my palm against my chest, my breath catching as the magic rises beneath my skin.