Calindria stood her ground, even when her instincts commanded her to back off, because she was no match for this warrior.
She gentled her tone as her anger slowly abated, replaced with a need to know more about him, born of a yearning to understand him. “Why do you hate company, Thanatos? You despise it so much you drove your own twin away from you. You hate it so much you live in a castle alone with servants you made just so you don’t need to be near another living soul. You must be lonely. Are you not lonely?”
He gnashed his teeth at her and growled as he leaned towards her, his immense body crowding her as he spread his wings. Threatening her. She had struck a nerve then, hitting too close to the truth.
Thanatos was lonely, but he refused to admit it.
Why?
It dawned on her that he viewed it as a weakness.
She didn’t.
If he asked her, she would freely admit that she had been lonely. Part of her still felt that way, even with Thanatos’s company. He was so distant from her at times, holding himself away from her even when they were only feet apart. There was a chasm between them, or a wall, one so high she could never dream of scaling it.
So high it would keep anyone out.
And for some reason, that made her feel sad.
She looked up into his eyes, her anger abating as his lingered, as he held on to his fury as he did whatever pain had made him close himself off from everyone, even his family. She wanted to reach up and frame his face with her hands, but he wouldn’t welcome the touch. He would strike at her, lashing out from hurt, in a need to defend himself against a perceived threat.
She wasn’t a threat to him.
But she felt he would never see that. He would never trust her, no matter how far they travelled together, no matter how long they spent with each other. She would do better to give up on him now, to cast aside any foolish notion she’d had that they could be friends, or possibly something more.
The softer part of her, the side of her that used to be dominant in her personality, would have her laughing and whiling away her days in the pursuit of fun, told her to give up on him. Thanatos would only hurt her if she let him get any closer to her.
The darker side of her, the one that had come to the fore during her captivity, a shield that had protected that sliver of light, bared fangs and snarled at her to not give up, to never give in.
Thanatos would surrender to her.
She wanted him, and that meant one thing.
He would be hers.
Thanatos turned on his heel and stalked away from her.
Calindria stared at his back, at his wings, enjoying the fierce wave of possessiveness that crashed over her and almost tore a growl from her lips.
A wall stood between her and what she wanted.
A wall so high she couldn’t scale it.
But there was more than one way to reach the other side and her prize—Thanatos’s heart.
She would break the wall down instead.
Chapter 14
Thanatos had been in a bad enough mood before Calindria had revealed there was a fire inside her, one that was as dark and powerful as that which her father commanded. Her outburst had taken him aback, the sight of her all riled up and angry with him, and the fact she had pulled rank on him, shocking him enough that he hadn’t had a chance to stop her before she had delivered the series of verbal blows that had cracked his defences wide open.
Had made him face some ugly truths about himself.
Now, as he stormed towards the mountains, he couldn’t stop his mind from going over and over what she had said to him. He wanted to deny it all, needed to find that one sliver of truth that would give him the strength to tear down everything she had said and restore balance within himself.
Only he feared that sliver was going to prove elusive, because it didn’t exist.
Calindria was wrong about him.
She was.
He didn’t need friends. He didn’t need company. He was happy flying solo and wasn’t interested in having visitors at his castle or spending time with others socially. His life as it stood, with most of his days passed alone in his realm or overseeing the dead and performing his duties in the veil, was what he wanted.
Yes, there were times when he was alone, but that didn’t make him lonely.
It didn’t.
Calindria caught up with him, her chin tipped up and shoulders rigid, and her eyes shining with the remnants of her fury, looking much like his had to at that very moment. She refused to look at him, did her best to keep pace with him even though the loose pebbly ground had to be hurting her bare feet. He told himself he didn’t care, but he still found himself slowing for her, still felt that urge to convince her to let him fly her so he could alleviate any pain she might be feeling and make her more comfortable.
She would reject him if he tried.
And gods, maybe he did deserve it, and maybe he didn’t want to risk that happening because maybe, just maybe, she was right.
He was a little lonely.
He was sure he hadn’t been before he had met her. This wretched feeling inside him was born of her company, born of fear of something foolish and ridiculous—the thought of parting from her.
No. He hadn’t been lonely before they had met, but he was sure he would feel lonely when his mission was done and she was back with her family. For the first time in centuries, he had been enjoying having company, even though she seemed determined to vex him from time to time. He glanced at her and lingered, that foolish part of him wishing they could turn back the clock to before she had upset him and he had upset her.
She kept her profile to him, didn’t acknowledge him at all as he stared at her, unable to take his eyes off her as feelings ran riot inside him, clashing and twisting into a seething mass that choked him.
Stirred other feelings inside him, ones he knew for certain he shouldn’t be entertaining.
His gaze drifted over her face, an ache forming behind his breast, in the hollow pit of his chest that had been an abyss for as long as he could remember. Now, feelings were growing there, setting root and taking hold of him. Dangerous feelings.
Like the desire to touch her cheek and discover if it was as soft as her palms had been against his face.
That desire led to a thought about what might come after. If he ran his knuckles lightly across her cheek, how would she react? Would she distance herself or would she turn to him, revealing the whole of her face so her beauty would hit him hard, bewitching him all over again?
Would fire shine in her irises as she gazed up into his eyes, born not of anger but something else? Something that drummed inside him too.
Gods, this need growing inside him felt as if it was going to destroy him if he didn’t do something. Even the briefest touch would tame it. He flexed his fingers, a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time tormenting him, daring him to do it. He wanted her. He could have her.
He couldn’t have her. She was off-limits. She was the only daughter of Hades and he had sworn to protect her and get her home safely, not seduce her. If Hades learned of what he had done, he would kill him. Hades was fiercely protective of his children, and Thanatos had the feeling his only daughter would be an exception, that Hades would destroy anyone who dared to harm his little girl.
Hell, Persephone would likely kill him before her husband could.
Calindria’s brothers would probably be waiting in line for him to resurrect so they could cut him down too.