CHAPTER 35: A DIFFICULT CHOICE-1

Kastali Dun Talon followed Claire into her quarters, chasing after her lavender scent as if hypnotized. He chided himself for accepting her invitation to come in, but he could no more refuse it than he could refuse her in nearly anything these days. Was it the mate bond? His growing affection for her? Just a few minutes, he told himself, justifying the decision. Then he would politely remind her that she needed rest, that it was late, that he had other business to attend to, as he always did. "I just opened this red earlier," she called from across the room. "I think you'll like it. It's had time to settle now." She lifted it to her nose and inhaled, then smiled with her eyes closed. He remained in the doorway, watching her the way he might watch a grazer that he wanted to snatch for supper. He blinked and cleared his head. She wasn't livestock, or prey for that matter. Yet, the black dragon inside him stirred. She stoked deeply rooted instincts, capturing his attention and ensnaring it. "Red is fine," he mused, stalking his way across the room without removing his gaze from her figure. She turned her back upon him as she worked. Her slender shoulders were bare. He traced the line of her shoulder blades. His attention was drawn to her neck and the wisps of hair that had come untucked at its nape. He stepped up behind her, as close as was possible without stepping on her flowing gown. There he pretended to watch her movements over her shoulder. Without realizing it, his hand acted of its own accord, lifting to brush the loose strands of hair away from her neck. An excuse to touch her. She stilled beneath his fingers. His chest fluttered and he pulled his hand away. "Here," she said, turning to give him a full goblet. "Cheers." She clanked hers against his and then took a sip, keeping her unearthly green eyes locked on his. He followed her actions. "Mmm." He rolled the liquid around on his tongue before swallowing it. "From the North, if I'm not mistaken?" He reached around her for the bottle, allowing his body to brush hers. He didn't really care where the wine had come from, even though he made a show of reading the parchment label tied around the bottle's neck. Her breathing heightened, growing louder and more staggered. Was this the effect he had on her? The idea thrilled and scared him. "Hmm...Yes," he said, setting the bottle down. "I've had this one before." He wasn't sure if he had. He didn't care. His words were mindless—an excuse to speak. He turned his gaze upon her. She sipped and regarded him over the rim of her goblet. "Shall we take some air outside?" he asked, pulling at the collar of his tunic to readjust it. It was suddenly very hot, especially so close the fire. "Oh. Yes. Sure." Her forehead furrowed at his unexpected invitation. He turned and strode in the direction of the balcony, exhaling to ease the tension in his shoulders. On his way, he unclipped the clasp on his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. Why was it so frustrating to want two things simultaneously? The cool air kissed his face. He inhaled, taking in the salty scent of the sea breeze. It helped to calm his nerves. Claire came up to stand beside him. "Only two minutes alone with me and you're already avoiding me," she said with a chuckle, as if to make light of the statement. Her body was close. Too close. He could feel the heat rolling off her like the waves below, slamming against the cliff walls. He paid her a sidelong glance. "Avoiding you? What makes you think that? We've spent nearly the entire evening together." She sighed. "That's not what I meant and you know it. We've been alone plenty since discovering our mate bond. But each time you catch yourself getting close to me, you pull away." He opened his mouth to argue. She was right. He was avoiding her in that way. "Why?" she asked. "Is it...is it because you're afraid of me?" A high-pitched laugh escaped his lips and he clamped them shut, frowning at his lack of control. "Afraid of you? No. Afraid of the way you make me feel? Yes. Certainly." The words were out before he could stop them. She tilted her head to the side, regarding him as if he were some curious creature. "Why do you fight it? Why do you fight me?" Heat spread up his neck and across his face. "Why do you accept it so mindlessly? You used to hate me, remember? And for good reason. But the moment you discovered our bond, you stopped fighting. You stopped challenging me. Gods! We never even argue anymore, Claire. Not like that's a bad thing—you know I dislike arguing with you. Sometimes I even catch you looking at me like...like..." "Like what exactly?!" Her eyebrows pulled together as her expression turned defensive. "Like I'm the most beautiful thing you've seen in your short span of twenty-two years." He grunted and shook his head. "Sometimes I fall for it, you know, those looks, then I look at my reflection and remember what I am. Who I am." He ran a hand through his hair, only to remember he was still wearing his crown. He nearly knocked it to the ground. Catching it, he set it beside his goblet on the waist-high parapet wall with more force than intended. "What are you saying, Talon?" She held her goblet and stood motionless, glaring at him. "I'm saying you are befuddled by our mate bond. You wouldn't look at me twice if it wasn't for that." "Oh gawd! Here we go!" She rolled her eyes and walked away from him, nearly sloshing her wine, then turned back to face him, frustration rippling the air around her. "Befuddled? You think my discovering our bond flipped a switch in me? Just like that?" He frowned. "A...a switch?"