Giving me a small smile, Kas had led me out of the kitchen to the dining room.
It’d felt strange eating at the large table still set for a party of monsters. The polished knives and forks glinted, placemats with their leather and ribbon were pristine.
There’d been no salt or pepper, no butter or other condiments to increase the flavor of the basic soup he’d made, but it’d been the best meal I’d had since arriving here. Mainly because Kas ate with me, silent and wary, but at least he stayed by my side.
Eating our meal in the extravagant dining room had allowed my mind to run wild with ghosts of the past. I studied the empty walls where mirrors used to sit, ready to refract the light cast by a few bulbs that hadn’t burned out in the chandelier above the table. Light bounced off the crystal bumblebee napkin holders, and the scent of bygone dinners seemed to swirl around us.
It truly was a decadent mansion; if only it hadn’t kept children trapped and allowed such sick monstrosities to take place.
Kas finished his dinner before me. He’d swooped to his feet, bowed stiffly, and spoke more words than he had all day. “Thank you for your help...with the wood.” He raked a hand through his unruly, long hair, keeping his eyes anywhere but on mine. I hated that he’d pulled away again. I wanted to go back to the garden where something had built inside him. Something had unfurled between us. A decision had been made in his heart.
The sex between us had been wild and real. I’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted me. I’d been prepared to give him everything, but then his mind had gone and ruined what could’ve been. Again.
I pushed my empty bowl away and smiled up at him, weary from physical labor but also drained from emotional trauma. “You’re welcome.” It took so much control not to grab his wrists and force him to stay with me. To tell him how I felt, what I would do for him, that he only had to drop his guard and we could be together.
But I held my tongue because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, having him switch from kissing me with passion, thrusting into me with need, to a man who didn’t see me, hear me, feel me, had reminded me that for all my daydreaming of domestication and futures, he was still unsafe.
I still risked my life living with him.
I still hadn’t freed him from his past.
Inhaling heavily, he’d looked around the room as if something would give him whatever answers he was looking for. Goosebumps had spread down my back, wondering if he’d been thinking of us just as I had. Had he come to the conclusion that I was trustworthy? That I was strong enough? Was he ready to talk to me? Could we possibly spend the evening together like any other couple, cuddled by a fire, enjoying each other’s company, before slipping into bed together?
Even as such fantasies filled my head, his gaze landed on mine and shot them dead. He flinched, unable to hide the anguish inside him, the confliction, the toppling mess of his psyche. “You’re...you’re no longer chained to me.”
I glanced down at the chain I’d wrapped around my ankle, a link-snake that formed a chunky anklet. My head tipped up as I glanced at his waist where I knew the other half of our broken chain remained locked around him, the small length tucked in his back pocket. “No, I’m not.”
He stiffened. “Will you leave? Tonight?”
My back straightened into steel. “You honestly have to ask that question?”
He shrugged, dropping his stare again. His usual guarded personality had dimmed. I didn’t know if it was from the firewood chores draining him of whatever health he’d regained or if whatever had happened between us in the gardens was worse than I realized. Either way, he was...subdued.
Quiet.
It made me afraid.
Standing, I reached for him. “Kas...please. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
He stepped out of my reach. “You should leave. While the weather still holds.”
I reared back, pain slapping into my heart as real as if his palm had just struck my cheek. “It wasn’t the chain keeping me here. We both know that. I thought we’d both realized I stopped looking for a way to get free a while ago.”
He sniffed, his scruff soaking up the meager light, his shadowed eyes darker and complex. “All the same, if you leave in the night, I’ll-I’ll understand.” He cleared his throat. “Whatever promises you made me, consider them broken.”
“Are you talking about the promise I made to help you prepare for winter or the one where I promised to remember what you forget?”
His nostrils flared as he backed toward the door. “Both. You’re released from both.”
My hands balled into fists. “And if I don’t want to be released? If I want to stay here and help you? If I’m prepared to stay during the winter? If I’m ready to jot down everything that we do and keep a diary on every interaction we share, what then?”
“Then I’d say you sound as if you need a new hobby. You should go home. Back to the family you keep saying is missing you.”
It took a few seconds to get my temper under control. I inhaled and exhaled, schooling my tone into something that wouldn’t end in a fight. “I made the choice to stay, Kas. In the bath, I told you I chose you over my brother.”
His eyes flared, followed by a bolt of hunger and pure concentrated need.
My body reacted to his.
The air positively sparked as if candles sprung to life between us.
But then he shut it all down again.
He shook his head as if he couldn’t bear the thought that I’d put him first. As if he wasn’t used to such a thing. As if he felt guilty that he’d become so, so important to me.
“Don’t,” he whispered, taking another step toward the door. “Don’t put me first.”
I followed him. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? I promised you I’d help you get better.”
His hand struck up, barring me from chasing any further. “I’ve changed my mind.” His face twisted as if he swallowed something painful, as if his heart had forgotten how to beat. Rubbing his chest, he growled, “I think it’s best if you go. I don’t need your help anymore.”
Without waiting for me to reply, he vanished into the darkness of the foyer, disappearing into a mansion that’d watched too many children been broken down, twisted up, and spat out into despair.
I swayed to go after him.
I locked my knees and forbade it.
I’d let him go, nursing the new wounds he’d given me, dragging myself to the bathroom where I’d endured an icy shower. I hadn’t cried while I dressed in a powder-blue nightgown with a lace collar and spaghetti straps. I didn’t give in to the pressure as I shrugged into my hoodie and crawled under my stolen blankets to lay staring at the stars.
And even now, even with hours between this moment and that, I still refused to give in to the crush of agony that Kas was so skilled at delivering.
I sighed for the millionth time.
Enough, Gem.
Just...enough.
I sat up.
On nights like this at home, I’d get up and either scroll through some climbing forums or go for a climb. I had a twenty-four-hour pass to my local bouldering gym. I’d often haunt the slabs and be found repeating routes at six in the morning when other people would arrive for a session.
God, I want to climb.