Page 108 of Thirst
My jaw flexed. Instinct screamed at me to bolt, to pretend I didn’t need anyone or anything. But I stayed, holding her hands and holding her gaze. Letting her see me.
“Trust me,” I said, the plea raw in my throat. “Trust us.”
Then I felt it. A touch—a warmth, deep in my chest, as if Nyx’s heart had reached out to mine.
My own heart stuttered, the primal thing inside me coming alert, stretching like a beast coming awake after a long sleep. I started to smile.
But then her eyes slid sideways. The warmth retreated, a tide dragged back into black water. “I can’t,” she told our clasped hands.
My brow knotted. My fingers clenched on hers, like I could chain her to me through sheer will. “You…can’t?”
I dropped back on my heels, searching her features.
“No.” She gave a single shake of her head, still not looking at me.
“But—why?” My stomach turned sour. “Because of your father? You’re still choosing him over me?”
“No!” She reared back, tearing her hands from mine. “That has nothing to do with it.”
I rose to my feet. “Then what’s the problem? You feel it, too. I can tell—I’ve been getting flashes of emotion from you since Paris. Don’t tell me that isn’t the mate bond.”
“Stop pushing!” Her eyes blazed. “This is too sudden. Too much.”
That hurt. “Too much?”
She raised her hands, palms out. “I can’t think when you’re this close. I need space. Please.”
A beat passed. Long enough for me to notice the splinter working its way into my heart.
Long enough for dreams I’d barely known I had to crash down around my ears.
“Right.” I backed up, a jittery feeling running up my spine. My knee started to jiggle, like if I moved it fast enough, I could outrun the pain.
Nyx retreated to the opposite side of the couch, body shaking, breath jerking in and out, like she might shatter at a single touch.
Which made no fucking sense.
I peered at her. “What’s wrong, firefly?” The nickname slipped out—a plea. “Talk to me. I can’t fix this if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“This.” She waved a hand between us. “It’s too fast. One night I’m a prisoner and the next night you’re asking me to be your mate? I just…can’t.”
The splinter in my heart hit the softest part of me. I dug the heel of my hand into my sternum, like I could grind the ache out. “I see.”
Something flickered across her face—guilt, fear, maybe both—before she looked away. “I just need time.”
“Time,” I repeated flatly.
She licked her lips. Then her chin lifted in that tough, I know you’re a big bad vampire but you’re not going to push me around way that made something hot and reckless surge through me. Made me want to show her exactly how bad I could be, and then drop to my knees again and beg her to take my bond.
“That’s right,” she said.
I exhaled. Brought my hand back to my side. “Okay. You need time, you’ve got it.”
Right then, she could’ve asked me for anything, and I would’ve bled myself dry to get it for her.
Anything, that is, except let her go.
I could handle the waiting, could stand here, hollowed out, and give her all the time she needed to catch up—to believe in me, in us.
