they had been taken from him, he needed them with a ferocity that shook him to his soul.
He curled his fingers into fists, drew down a breath, and let resolve flow through him to chase his fears away. If he had to hurt himself, expose himself, to make things between them right again, he would do it. He would tell her every humiliating detail of what had happened to him.
“Calindria—” he started.
She stood and brushed her backside down, making it clear she wasn’t interested in listening to anything he had to say.
His courage took a hit and faltered.
“You need to eat more.” He offered another piece of meat to her like a messed-up olive branch he knew she wouldn’t take, worry arrowing through him. She had eaten barely a mouthful, not nearly enough to sustain her.
She shook her head and wouldn’t look at him as she mumbled, “I want to sleep.”
She wandered off again and he twisted to look over his shoulder at her, tracking her as she went back to the area she had walled off and disappeared from view.
He cursed himself a thousand times over as it felt as if he had just watched his future disappear and had condemned himself back to the shadows, to a life without light. He rubbed at his sternum, aching with a need to go to her and make her listen, even when she wouldn’t right now. She needed time, and he would give it to her, even though it pained him.
Thanatos stared at the fire, his focus behind him on Calindria as she settled down to sleep. He would keep watch over her and if the nightmares returned, he would wake her, saving her from them. Maybe he could use that as a starting point for a conversation, discovering what she dreamed that made her so fitful and frightened, and he could talk about the nightmare that still haunted his every waking and sleeping moment.
She deserved to know.
He had told others of what he had been through, in the barest detail. Her own brother, Calistos, knew the demigoddess had defeated him in battle, drugged him and stolen his seed. Surely, he could tell her more than he had told her twin? Hell, he would settle for telling her the same thing as he had Calistos. It might be enough for now, would make her understand him more, and perhaps forgive him.
Thanatos poked at the fire and ate more of the meat, forcing it down to keep his strength up so he could continue to protect her. Healing had taken a lot out of him and he needed to replenish his body. He would be no good to her as he was now. If the Keres attacked again, he might not be strong enough to protect her.
Why did he find it so difficult to tell her what had happened to him?
She had proven time and again that she was understanding, a compassionate female and one he could trust.
Telling her about his past would only be making himself vulnerable in a different way and he doubted she would spurn him for what had happened to him, or view him as less of a male.
It hit him that fear of her doing such a thing was the true reason he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.
He worried that she would see him as weak when he had given her the impression he was strong, powerful. He didn’t want her to think less of him.
Thanatos lost track of time as he thought about that, about how much she was coming to mean to him, and not once did Calindria stir. She slept soundly, her breathing even, and it was a relief to him. She needed rest almost as much as she needed food.
His muddied senses picked up something and he tensed, rising to his feet as his right hand went to his sword. He drew it slowly, scowling into the gloom, trying to pinpoint what he had felt.
A black-haired male stepped from the tunnel, his mismatched eyes—one green and one blue—scanning the cavern and settling on Thanatos. Messengers all looked the same, but he knew this one. It was the male who had been looking for Calindria, the one Thanatos felt sure had been tailing him through this realm before he had found her.
The Messenger’s eyes settled on the wall of vines at Thanatos’s back and slowly widened, his step faltering as he walked towards it. Shock rolled across his features and he blinked rapidly,