“The demigoddess?” Her blue eyes widened a little, understanding dawning in them. “The one who defeated you in battle?”
He nodded. Risked it and lifted his right hand to her face and smoothed his fingers across her ashen cheek.
“We will talk more about that later.” He looked around him and noticed something. “What happened to the Messenger?”
She shook her head and the way she paled further said something bad had happened to the male.
“Did the wyverns kill him?” He saw the answer to that question in her eyes as more tears filled them. He shook his head. “You do not have to answer that.”
Her face crumpled anyway, and his heart went out to her, softened to mush even as it hardened to stone, filling with a need to cross over into the veil and find the Messenger so he could kill him all over again.
He gathered her into his arms, relishing the fact she didn’t resist him, how she stepped into him instead, nestling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she did the same to him, only she clung to him, her fingers pressing hard into his ribs as she trembled.
Gods, it broke his heart.
He held her to him, smoothed her dirty blonde hair and pressed a kiss to it as she held him, as he felt the war inside her, a battle against her desire to cry.
“He tried to…” She pulled down a sharp breath. Shuddered. “He said she told him we would be together. That I… I would be… his.”
She.
“Do you think—” She cut herself off.
Thanatos nodded and ran his fingers through her hair. He didn’t think. He knew. “He was working with the demigoddess. This is her realm. She is the one who held you here… and by the gods, I will make her pay for that.”
He seethed with a need to return to the building he had seen, one where the demigoddess might still be, anger surging through him as he thought about the fact she had held Calindria all these years, had been responsible for her torment, and had almost gotten her hands on Calindria again because of him. He had almost handed Calindria over to her with his actions, had driven her to within the demigoddess’s reach by leaving her with the Messenger.
He would never have forgiven himself if the male had gotten what he wanted.
“I am sorry I left you with him.” Thanatos cupped her head in both hands, gently drew her away from his chest and angled her head back so she was looking up at him. He stared down into her eyes, feeling wretched as pain glittered in them, laced with fear. His fault. “I’m sorry I left you, Calindria. It will not happen again. I swear it. From now on, I will always be by your side.”
Her eyes darted between his. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”
He shook his head now, because she had no reason to apologise for her actions. He had been the one at fault. He had hurt her again and she had acted to protect herself.
“Forgive me?” he husked.
Desperate for her to do just that.
He stared into her eyes.
Feeling as if everything hinged on her answer.
Chapter 23
Calindria tilted her head back, the earnest look in Thanatos’s silver eyes touching her heart as she gazed up at him. He was truly sorry, seemed pained by what he had done, or perhaps it was the fact she was making him wait to hear whether she would forgive him or not.
Part of her wanted to make him wait a while longer, but the rest of her couldn’t be so cruel to him. They had both made mistakes, and they had both paid for it. She let go of her desire to punish him and stepped closer to him, angling her head back further.
Her eyes fell to his lips.
A streak of blood darted across his face just beyond the left corner of his mouth, but she didn’t care. She was sure she looked just as awful as he did, mostly thanks to him. She had never seen a male rage as he had, had never witnessed such a brutal assault. Thanatos had been savage and wild as he had cut down the dragon right in front of her.
And gods, part of her had loved it.
“Forgiven,” she murmured, eager to move on to the next part of what was fast becoming a forgiveness ritual.
He dipped his head and captured her lips, kissed her as softly as the last time he had asked for forgiveness and received it. Warmth bloomed inside her and sank all the way to her marrow, made her feel light inside, as if she was floating in his arms. Heat wasn’t the only thing that stirred within her though. A sense of connection did too, one that made her feel as if they were one in this moment, tied together by more than their mouths and their bodies. They were joined by a greater force too.
Love.
She mourned the loss of his lips against hers as he pulled back, watched the warm look that had filled his eyes turn to darkness again as he looked her over.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” he muttered and dropped his right hand and settled it over her left hip.
She shivered at the heat of his touch as it soaked through the black material that covered her, didn’t hide how he made her feel as his gaze darted up to meet hers. His pupils dilated and a corona of blue fire ignited around them.
She could read his thoughts in those eyes that seared her.
He was thinking about bathing with her.
She was thinking about it too, but not in the way he was. She had forgiven him, but she wasn’t ready to take that leap again with him. Not yet. Not when she still hurt from the way he had reacted last time.
Calindria led him back through the maze of the canyon, aware of his gaze on her, how it lingered on her clothing. She didn’t want to look at the knee-length tunic, because it would only lead to her thinking about what she had done. It had been her or the Messenger, and she had done what she’d had to do. There was no point in dwelling on it.
She kept telling herself that but it didn’t help.
“Does it hurt?” Thanatos croaked behind her.
She shook her head. “Surprisingly, it doesn’t. It did, but it no longer does.”
She touched her side and it didn’t even sting.
“Maybe I heal quickly?” She looked over her shoulder at Thanatos as they reached the tunnel, caught the guilt in his silver eyes before he averted them.
He sighed. “You would not have needed to heal if I had not left you.”
She paused and turned to him, pressed her hands to his dirty bare chest and gazed up into his eyes. He refused to look at her.
“You cannot know that.” She looked beyond him to the canyon. “We would have come this way. The dragons were waiting for prey to come along. There is every chance I might have ended up wounded even with you on hand to fight them.”
He shrugged stiffly and his gaze leaped to her side as his brow furrowed. “Come. I want to see that wound.”
He wanted to take care of it. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to tend to her as she had to him, and for some reason, it unsettled him. Because she had been hurt and he felt responsible, feared retribution for it, or because he wasn’t used to this—wanting to take care of another? By his account, he had been alone a long time. Long enough to forget what it felt like to want to look after another person, to care about their wellbeing?
It had been a long time for her too, but she hadn’t forgotten the need to take care of others, how it had driven her whenever her brothers had been hurt, especially when the brother in question was her twin.