I don’t have much time; we both know that. My destiny hangs in the room like an invisible stalker that can’t take a hint. I take in a calming breath and then release it slowly through the tiny gap between my front teeth before I speak again. “I want to be with you Eamon, but you won’t let me.”
His face crumples completely. The trembling of his lips makes me ill with regret, but this conversation, this truth, is long overdue. “I don’t know how to. Every moment I spend with you feels as if it will be my last. I keep waiting for you to be captured… or taken to him.”
“Drakon still has to find me before he can present me to Aloysius.”
Eamon shakes his head, looking down at me with tear tracks on his cheeks, shiny in the sunlight filtering in through the window. “I wasn’t talking about Drakon.”
I feel this low blow straight in my gut. It takes me a moment compose myself because I speak and when I do, I can hear the shakiness in my voice. “Bastien is gone.”
“Yeah, but he came back once. He can do it again.”
The raw pain in his voice tears me away from the whirlwind of volatile emotions that always come with hearing Bastien’s name. “He left… twice. I don’t think he came back for me the other night.”
“You didn’t see the look on his face after you passed out.” His chin lowers to rest upon his chest. He stares blankly at his feet.
The sudden need to know more nearly yanks the question from my lips, but I clench my teeth shut at the sight of his hunched shoulders. I frantically struggle to lock Bastien and his piercing gaze back into the hole that I shoved him in months ago to preserve what little life I had left. He made his choice… and so have I.
“He is where he belongs.” I clench my fingers into my palm so tightly that I can feel my skin begin to protest. I speak quickly so I don’t have time to dwell on my words. “I am meant to be here, with you.”
“But you still think about him…” He presses, his eyes wide with a fervent pleading for me to deny it, but I can’t. He would know it’s a lie, yet he still longs to be comforted by it. To wrap up inside my lie and hide just for a while longer.
“I think of him,” I admit softly, letting my hand fall away into my lap. I unclench my fist and find red crescents punctured into my palm. “More so now that you have dumped me.”
Eamon splutters. “I think dumped is a bit of an exaggeration.”
He pales at my livid glare. “Do you want me to remind you of how much time you have spent with me off the battlefield in the last month? The last half of the year? I won’t need more than one hand to do it!”
I can feel I’m close to crying and I struggle to rein my anger back in. Why do I have to be so emotional all of the time now? Why can’t I go back to the way I was before all of this mess landed in my lap? When life was simple and a solid spear and hunting sack slung over my back was enough to clear my head.
I never asked to be drawn in the middle between Eamon and Bastien. In fact, I would rather both of them left me alone in the first place. Then Kyan had to spout off about my stupid destiny and the whole world went into a full tilt, and I was left grappling for something to hold on to.
Bastien thought by leaving me, my life would get easier, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. I used to lie awake at night, trying to hate him for walking away, but I knew why he did it. It wasn’t because he was weak. No, it was because he was selfish.
He knew what I wanted from him, what I needed, and he wanted the same thing. If he had stayed, I would’ve freely given up everything for him. I know a part of him would’ve embraced our love, but he would have known it was wrong.
Fate is a cruel bastard.
I rise slowly and head toward the far wall, sinking down onto the wide seat that perches just below the window. I like to sit here in the early morning, before Thalar wakes and the noise drowns out the call of the birds or the splashing of water in the fountain square. It is the only time I can almost trick myself into thinking I am in the forest again.
Eamon rises, shuffling his feet as he comes to stand behind me. He reaches down and clasps my shoulder as he settles onto the bench, speaking so softly I struggle to capture the words. “I’m sorry.”
I close my eyes, wishing more than anything he had said this before. “Sorry isn’t good enough anymore.”
I lean forward and press my forehead against the windowpane. A small circle of fog puffs to life near my mouth. Two smaller ones appear and fade with each breath that passes through my nose.
“I’ve been hard to live with. I’ll admit that.” His hand shifts to brush thick strands of hair off my shoulder. My skin tingles under his touch. It has been far too long since he touched me like this. “I guess I didn’t really know how to deal with all of this.”