there. She would not let her past define her as Elisabeta was doing. She sank down, back to the rock, knees to her chest, looking down at the scorch marks on the granite surface. Who was she kidding? Not Elisabeta, and not herself. She was already allowing the past to define her. No one could escape their past.
Elisabeta was forever shaped into a submissive woman who needed someone to gently guide her back to a place where she could feel strong and believe in herself again. Julija needed . . . what? Someone. Someone had come along and she’d rejected him. Not only had she rejected him, she’d deliberately insulted him and the Carpathian culture.
There was no sound, but she knew Isai was there, almost as though by thinking of him, she had conjured him up. When she opened her eyes, he was crouched beside her, looking utterly male, all muscle and hard lines, totally at odds with the way his finger traced a line down her cheek. She realized she was crying and instantly felt vulnerable.
She lifted her gaze to his and the impact of his sapphire eyes caught her right in the stomach like a hard blow.
“Why the tears?”
She shook her head mutely, but the burn behind her eyes increased. So much was lost to her. She couldn’t even say lost when she’d never had it. Never. She’d never had love. Or a real family. She’d never had anyone to care whether she was hurt or not. His touch on her skin felt shockingly beautiful. She felt trapped by him, by what he held out to her when she knew it was most likely an illusion. She’d lived in illusions until finally, one day, she’d realized what was happening and become mistress of them.
“Julija, simple politeness requires you to answer.”
Her face flamed red and she tried to jerk her head back to get away from his touch. She hit the back of her head hard against the rock. Pain added to the already pounding headache. She let herself cry. For Elisabeta and for herself. Two women trapped in cages they could never break out of.
4
Isai brushed at the tears on Julija’s face. His heart clenched hard enough to be painful. The sight of her crying tore at him, caused a completely visceral reaction. She might have rejected him, but while he was with her, he had no choice but to take care of her. The need to stop her tears was so strong he moved closer to her, sheltering her with his body.
“Julija, you must tell me what is wrong. I cannot aid you if you do not communicate with me.”
She pressed her face into her hands and shook her head, but the sobs didn’t stop. Now his gut was churning. He sighed. “Little mage, you will be the death of me. If you do not tell me what distresses you, you leave me no choice but to extract the information from you.”
Her head snapped up and she glared at him. The effect wasn’t what she was looking for because her face was splotchy red from crying and her eyes were watery. Her feathery lashes stuck together, giving her the appearance of a drowned kitten.
“You have a million choices, Isai. A million. Your last choice should be taking something I haven’t offered you.”
“At least you are talking, even if what you say is pure nonsense.” He stood up and held out his hand. “We have to go now if you’re coming with me.”
With a show of great reluctance, she put her hand in his. He closed his fingers around it and pulled her to her feet. “You do not have to come with me if you do not want to,” he stated. “You want to make your choice, make it fast.”
She seemed to wince as if he’d struck her, but she just nodded her head. “I’m going with you.”
“If you’re going with me, Julija, I will still be the same man you have rejected. I lead. I will always lead. It will be that way until we part ways.”
Her long lashes lifted, and she glared at him. “Less talking and more leading would be good.” She managed to use her snippiest voice.
For some reason, that made him want to laugh. He didn’t, but he wanted to and that shocked him. He couldn’t really remember laughter, but he felt it. Without preamble, and maybe just to retaliate and shock her a little, he wrapped his arm around her waist,