Page 21 of The Blade in the Ashes
He laughed darkly, his eyes following the trail of his hand, tracing over me until I felt his stare cresting over every inch of my face.
“I’m aware,” he acknowledged. “But that’s not what I’ve been thinking about.”
“Then what do you—” Another gulp. “What do you think about?”
“I think about the custom that we skipped.”
I felt overwhelmingly aware of the weight of those metal clasps around my wrists.
Caldrius’ gaze locked onto my lips, and the few inches between us seemed only like centimeters as he inched closer and closer. “It is customary for the husband and wife to kiss at the completion of the ceremony. Shall we give it a try now?”
I sneered in disgust at his casual manipulation and swallowed against the tingling in my gut, the sensation of pulling for magic that didn't exist, as I shoved him away from me with both hands planted firmly against his chest.
“You’re a prick!”
He fell back in a fit of easy laughter as I stood and took a few unsteady steps away from him. That easy smirk remained as he crossed his hands behind his head, leaned back against the couch and crossed one ankle over the other. A picture of calm confidence.
“Want to try to convince me again that this change in attitude isn’t a ruse?”
Gods, why did he have to make everything so difficult?
“I cannot change the fact that I am Hyrax’s daughter or your wife!” I whirled, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You’ll forgive me if accepting those things, necessary as it is, is challenging for me.”
Caldrius’ jaw twitched almost imperceptibly, his smirk fading away softly. “And can you?”
Something had fallen over him—a sort of seriousness that sent me off balance. He watched me with such intensity that it was as if he were trying to read my mind. My hand fell like a weight to my side.
“Can you accept it?” He asked again.
There was a hint of vulnerability in his dark eyes that made me clench my hands into fists so tightly that my fingernails dug into my skin.
I didn’t want to think of him as vulnerable. It was so much easier to think of him as the man who had lied to me and stood by Hyrax as he killed countless innocent souls than it was to remember the time I had once considered him a friend.
“Accept my title?” I asked, not daring to look away. “Or accept this marriage?”
He took a deep breath, his exhale the only sound as he considered.
“Are the two not hand in hand?” He challenged, with a lifted brow.
A sudden pressure seemed to sit on my chest, making air difficult to find.
Caldrius stared at me, watching every rise of my chest and flutter of my eyelashes as he waited for my response, his feet frozen on the floor.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what answer he was hoping to hear from me. Did he want me to say that I could never accept either? Would that make him feel vindicated? Or did he want me to give him some hope that I could one day be the perfect replacement for the wife he had loved and lost?
“I’m not Isidore.”
The words were hardly out of my mouth before he threw his head back with an irritated huff. He stared at the ceiling for so long that I thought he might not reply at all until he moved to stand in front of me.
“I know. I don’t want you to be her.”
“Then who do you want me to be?”
His hand wrapped around the nape of my neck, his eyes turning pleading. “I want you to beyou.”
My heart lurched painfully. “What if I don’t know who that is anymore?”
I had lost everything that made me who I was.
