her, to the creatures surely still watching them. Tagart wasn't here, she knew, but he would hear of this. She didn't care.
"We agreed," Layel growled. "Once. No more."
Stripped of pride, Nola had said. If that's what was required, well..."I want more. I need more."
He shook his head in denial, though his pupils dilated. "You can't have more."
"I can. I will."
"Then you'll have to find someone else to give it to you." He said it flatly, as if he didn't care and almost hoped she took his advice. But there was something in his eyes, a gleam of absolute murder. So ferocious, she shivered.
One of her brows arched. "Shall I disprove your words right now?"
"Delilah." A warning.
"I'm willing to risk everything for you, Layel. My sister is back there, hating me, but I came to you anyway. My team thinks I mean to betray them. I am risking everything."
"Which shows only that you are foolish."
A red haze washed over her vision. She had not thought winning his heart would be easy, but a little cooperation would have been nice. "I'm not asking you to give me everything. I am asking you for time. A chance." Don't push me away. See me as a prize worth fighting any battle for.
There was a long pause, but his expression gave nothing away. "Delilah..." He stopped, whatever he'd meant to say destined to remain forever unheard. "Listen closely, for I do not wish to have this conversation again." He stood, towering over her. Then he leaned down, placing them nose to nose.
She bit her bottom lip, wishing he would kiss her as he had last night.
Breath caught in his throat - she heard the hitch - and he backed a step away. "I had you and now I am done with you," he croaked out, staring at her lips.
Another lie. She knew it. "Layel," she said, reaching for him. "Don't do this. Let me - "
"No." Another shake of his head, this one nearing violence. "I don't want you. Nothing you say or do will change that."
The sharpness of the latest rejection slapped her, cut her, made her bleed on the inside as she'd never bled on the outside. And still she fought. "Layel - "
"No! Look at my arm, Delilah. Do it!" he growled when she hesitated. "Look and see what I was willing to do when I left your embrace last night."
Dread filled her, because she knew, deep down, that what she would see would change her somehow.
"Do it!" he shouted, and all of the forest quieted.
Gulping, she lowered her gaze. He had rolled back his shirt's sleeves, showcasing deep, deep grooves in both of his forearms. Dried blood, scabs. "I don't understand."
"I've had to carve this six times already because the wounds keep healing. I even rubbed dirt, moss and salt into each slice to slow the process. Read the words. Read them!"
She focused, tracing each scab with her gaze. Never. Again.
"Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet.
Her mind emptied of thoughts, and her emotions numbed. The warrior instincts she'd been so sure would win him vanished as if they'd never been. He absolutely and unequivocally did not long for a future with her.
Never again. Never again would he kiss her, touch her, love her. She was not a prize to him, she was a nuisance. She was everything she'd never wanted to be, forgettable, unimportant, unworthy. Once again, she'd chosen the wrong man. Craved something that could never be. This time hurt far worse than the other. Far worse.
"I understand," she said softly. This time, he did not have to put space between them. She did. Inch by inch she backed away. Her legs were shaky, she realized vaguely, near collapse.
I was willing to give up everything for him, yet he doesn't want me. Oh, gods. He didn't want her. The numbness began to crack, lances of pain trying to shoot through her.
The more distance she gained, the more emotion Layel showed. Regret flashed over his beautiful features, followed by sorrow. "It has to be this way," he said with so much self-loathing it even managed to saturate the air. "I have a mission. I have a mate. I cannot forget that."
"You had a mate," she said, wanting to hurt him as he'd hurt her. "She died. You didn't save her and you feel guilty. I had thought, hoped, you'd done enough penance. Clearly you will never do enough."
A muscle clenched in his jaw, but she wasn't finished.