Page 69 of A Lesson in Thorns (Thornchapel 1)
“Yes?”
“I’m afraid of the same things you are, Proserpina.”
My lips part, but no words come out. I don’t know what to say, or if I even know what to hope about what he means by that.
His voice is gentle as he murmurs, “I want to hurt you so much that I dream about it sometimes.”
I breathe in a shaky breath, meeting his powerful stare in the dark.
“I’ve wanted to hurt you since we were ten years old,” he adds. “Sometimes I hurt with wanting to hurt you.”
“What else are you afraid of?” I ask, echoing his earlier question. He gives me a fond smile, a sweet, crooked-lipped smile. Like he’s indulging me by letting me ask such a thing, and we both know it, and suddenly I want to cry at how good that feels. To be indulged at the same time my hair is wrapped in his fist.
“I’m afraid of you letting me hurt you,” says Auden.
“Why?”
“Because then I’ll want to do it for the rest of my life.”
We stare at each other for a long time, my hair pulled taut in his fist and his eyes glittering at me, and nothing can matter right now except us, nothing has ever mattered except us, and my hair in his fist and his body towering over mine. And if he wanted to pin me to the ground and shove his fingers into my mouth, I’d let him. I’d let him do anything.
I’d
let him love me.
I’d let him make me fall in love with him right back.
I’d admit that I’m already in love with him.
He doesn’t pin me though, he doesn’t stick his fingers in my mouth or yank me close to his visible erection. He carefully, deliberately squats down so that we’re at eye level, and then he uses his other hand to cup my jaw.
Something hard and metallic pushes against my skin.
“You deserve better than me,” Auden says. We’re now so close that even in the darkness I can see his eyes are rimmed with red. I can see a faint line in his cheek I’ve never seen before—a tiny scar that only reveals itself when the shadows are swirling just right. “You deserve someone who already knows who they are.”
“I know who you are, Auden Guest,” I tell him softly. “I can know for the both of us.”
I reach up and tuck my fingers under his palm to peel it away, making sure not to drop whatever he was holding against my skin. I pull his hand down and look at what’s cradled there. In the moonlight, a delicate ring glints with diamonds and antique filigree. An engagement ring.
The same ring that was on Delphine’s finger earlier tonight.
“What happened?” I whisper, looking up from his palm to his face.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so sad. Or so beautiful.
He loosens my hair with a sigh, stands, and helps me to stand as well, taking care to arrange the blanket back around my shoulders so I won’t be cold.
“I think it’s fairly obvious what happened,” he says, some of that bitter, rich-boy drawl creeping back into his voice. “Delphine’s decided to call off the engagement. Probably the sensible thing to do, given all that I’ve told you tonight.”
“Oh Auden,” I say. His hands are still fussing with the blanket, and I see the effort it takes for him to let go of me. Like if he lets go of me, he’ll sink right through the floor and into hell.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“No,” he says. “I’m not.”
“Do you—do you need anything?”
His jaw works to the side a little, but when he answers, his voice is more rich boy than ever. “I think you just gave it to me.”
