Page 150 of Godbound
When the moment stretches for too long, I let out an annoyed breath and tell myself I don’t care whether he stays or leaves. He’s walked away before. He always comes back. I’ve been fine every time.
So why does the idea of him leaving tonight feel like it will pull the air out of the room with him?
He doesn’t move for a long while. Is he thinking? Listening? Deciding?
Then I hear a footstep. Forward or back?
Another step. Louder now.
Closer.
My heart stutters in my chest. A few more steps and the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits on the far side of the bed. I bite back a smile, warmth already tugging at my limbs.
“I won’t tolerate snoring,” he mutters as the bed creaks beneath his body.
I’m about to say something sarcastic, something about being a lady and how ladies don’t snore, but then his hand lands gently on my head.
I freeze, utterly forgetting to breathe. He runs his fingers through my hair, moving gently, arranging it like he’s memorizing every strand. I’m turned away from him, but it feels like my soul is facing his.
“No matter how much I despise the Crimson Tether,” he says, “I’m grateful it brought me to you, Trouble.” I realize he’s playing with the red strands. “No matter what happens next, I am sorry. For all the pain I’ve caused you.”
I turn, slowly, to face him. He’s lying on his side, fully dressed, but—thank the gods—without his cloak. One arm tucked beneath his head, the other still resting on my pillow, inches from my face.
He doesn’t pull back fast enough. I reach out and grab his hand before he can retreat, guiding it between us, pressing it into mine until our fingers tangle in the small space separating us.
“I’ve said hurtful things too,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry for every word. But,” I swallow, my cheeks warming. “Even your cruelest words… I’m grateful for them. Because without them, I don’t think I would’ve fought so hard. I wanted to prove you wrong.”
He smiles, but the expression falters, something like guilt shadowing his face. A flicker of pain crosses his features before he closes his eyes. The muscles in his jaw tense, and I know what that means. The chains.
I don’t ask. I don’t press. I just close my eyes too, offering him the silence he needs.
And as sleep slowly pulls me under, I’m almost sure I feel thecalloused warmth of his hand cupping my cheek and hear the softest breath of a whisper like a prayer, or a plea.
A final apology that brushes against my skin like the hush of a feather.
Ipush open the unlocked door the next morning. Peonica stands in front of the mirror, her fingers, black at the tips, twisting a red strand of hair. The sight of her hits me like a punch to the chest. My lungs tighten until I stagger forward, the glass of juice rattling on the tray in my hands.
She meets my eyes in the reflection and grins.
“Here to welcome me into your Crimson Tether ranks?” she says with a breezy chuckle. She doesn’t realize I know her secret yet.
“At least now I can stop warning you to be careful,” I say, rolling my eyes hard enough to feel the ache behind them as I kick the door shut.
“When am I not careful?” she shoots back, wiggling her eyebrows with that same insufferable smirk.
My blood heats. “It has to be one of the stupidest decisions you’ve ever made,” I snap, slamming the tray down on the small table. The words fly out before I can stop them, and once they’re out, there’s no holding back. The frustration crashes over me. “Why did you do it?”
Peonica’s face hardens instantly. Whatever light was there vanishes, replaced with something cold. “Someone had to,” she bites. “Since you’re too busy fawning over your beast to see past all that brooding and muscle.”
A flush of anger burns through me. “Our relationship is not your concern,” I grind out. “Whatisyour concern is your idiocy. You nearly got yourself killed! Do you even understand that? If I hadn’t made itin time, you would’ve bled out on the floor.”
Just like our mother.
Peonica’s lips twist into something that might’ve been a smirk if it wasn’t so full of venom. “Relationship?” she draws out the word with a grimace, like the word itself disgusts her. “Are you really that desperate for validation? You’ll give yourself to anyone who shows you the tiniest bit of affection?”
Her words land like daggers. A direct hit, straight to the heart.
My vision blurs, rage and pain roaring up from deep inside. I feel the coil of magic tightening beneath my skin, a dangerous heat rising. I see red.
