she. Because his was a destiny of yearning, of
being outside looking in, of seeing the fire but not being able to get close enough to it to be
warmed by it.
«Will you ever be back?» she asked.
«I don't know.»
The brush paused. «Maybe you'll like her.»
«Maybe. Don't stop yet. Please… not yet.»
Phury rubbed his eyes as the brush resumed its strokes. This quiet time was their good-bye, and
she knew it. She was crying too. He could smell the fresh, rainy tang in the air.
Except she didn't cry for the same reason he did. She cried because she pitied him and his future,
not because she loved him and her heart was breaking at the thought that she would never, ever
see him again. She would miss him, yes. Worry about him, sure. But she wouldn't yearn for him.
She never had.
And all this should have snapped his chain and gotten him to cut out the pansy-ass routine, but
he couldn't. He was submerged by his sadness.
He would, of course, see Zsadist on the Other Side. But her… he couldn't imagine her coming
over to see him. And it wouldn't really be appropriate, as he'd be the Primale, and it wouldn't
look right if he took private audiences with a female from the outside-even if she was his twin's
shellan. Monogamy to his Chosen in deed, thought, and appearance was the Primale's pledge.
Then it dawned on him. The baby. He would never get to see her and Z's young. Except maybe
in pictures.
The brush tucked under his hair and ran up his nape. Closing his eyes, he gave himself over to
the rhythmic pull and release on his head.
«I want you to fall in love,» she said.
I am in love. «It's all right.»
She stopped and stepped in front of him. «I want you to love someone for real. Not like you think
you love me.»
He frowned. «No offense. But you can't know what I-«
«Phury, you don't really love-«
He stood up and met her in the eye. «Please pay me the respect of not assuming to know my
emotions better than I do.»
«You've never been with a female.»
«I was last night.»
That shut her up for a moment. Then she said, «Not at the club. Please, not at-«
«In a bathroom in the back. It was good, too. Then again, she was a professional.» Okay, now he
was being an asshole.
«Phury… no.»
«May I have my brush back? I think my hair's good now.»
«Phury-«
«The brush. Please.»
After a moment that was long as a century, she extended the thing toward him. When he reached
out and took it, they were linked by the wooden handle for a mere breath, then she dropped her
hand.
«You deserve better than that,» she whispered. «You're better than that.»
«No, I'm not.» Oh, man, he had to get away from her heartbroken expression. «Don't let your pity
turn me into a prince, Bella.»
«This is self-destructive. All of it.»
«Hardly.» He went over to the bureau, picked up his blunt, and took a drag on it. «I want this.»
«Do you? Is that why you've been lighting up red smokes all afternoon? The whole mansion
smells of it.»
«I smoke because I'm an addict. I'm a loose-willed drug addict, Bella, who was with a whore last
night in a public place. You should condemn me, not pity me.»
She shook her head. «Don't try to make yourself look ugly in front of me. It won't work. You are
a male of worth-«
«For fuck's sake-«
»-who has sacrificed much for his brothers. Probably too much.»
«Bella, stop it.»
«A male who gave up his leg to save his twin. Who has fought bravely for his race. Who is
giving up his future for his brother's happiness. You can't get much more noble than that.» Her
eyes were rock-solid as she stared up at him. «Don't tell me who you are. I see you more clearly
than you see yourself.»
He paced around the room until he found himself back in front of the dresser. He hoped there
were no mirrors on the Other Side. He hated his reflection. Always had.
«Phury-«
«Go,» he said hoarsely. «Please just go.» When she didn't, he turned around. «For God's sake,
don't make me break down in front of you. I need my pride right now. It's the only thing keeping
me standing.»
She put a hand over her mouth and blinked quickly. Then she shored herself up and spoke in the
Old Language. «Be of good fortune, Phury, son of Ahgony. May your feet follow a level path and
the nightfall gently upon your shoulders.»
He bowed. «As for you, Bella, beloved nalla of mine blooded brother, Zsadist.»
When the door shut behind her, Phury sank down on
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