“Say it!”
Gasping, I jerked back from the mirror, clasping my hands over my ears. Aric’s roar was so sudden, so real, I closed my eyes. He’s not here. He’s not here. I could smell it, the roasted meat. Shudders overwhelmed me as my knees knocked together.
Nausea rolled through me, driving me to my knees. My stomach clenched, and everything I drank came back up, burning my sore throat. I stayed there, shaking as I kept telling myself that there was nothing left in me to throw up.
“Bri? You okay in there?”
Wincing, I lifted my head. “Yeah. Just…just getting in the shower.”
There was a pause. “Yell if you need me.”
“Will do,” I shouted weakly, shifting back from the toilet as damp warmth curled around me. I let my head fall back.
“I’m okay,” I whispered. “I’m going to be okay. No matter what.”
That’s what I told myself.
That’s all I could do.
Chapter 17
Showered and dressed in the soft pants and shirt Ivy had found, I was back in bed, utterly exhausted while Ivy went off in search of food.
I didn’t tell her about the puking thing because, despite the round of throwing up my guts, I was hungry.
I had no idea how I knew that when the knock at the door came, it wasn’t Ivy, but some inherent sense told me that it was Caden. A disconcerting mix of anticipation and dread surfaced in me. I wanted to see him, yet I didn’t—the latter for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because I wanted him to be here.
I wanted him to be here for me, and that was wrong. I knew that, and I still wanted it, which was one of the reasons he shouldn’t be here.
And the other reason? I knew how he was likely going to look at me. After seeing what I looked like and then throwing up my guts, I really didn’t want to face his mournful gaze.
Caden entered, and I focused on either his chest or his legs. He’d changed. Gone was the black shirt, replaced by a pale blue one, though his jeans were still dark. Maybe he’d showered, too.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, stopping just inside the doorway.
“Better.” I fiddled with the bedspread, finding a stray thread and tugging at it. “The shower really helped. Now I just need to get the million knots out of my hair.”
“Do you think you can eat something?”
My empty stomach rumbled despite my praying to the porcelain gods for a small eternity earlier. “I think so.”
“Good.” I saw his legs move back toward the doorway, and then he returned, caring a tray.
I sat up gingerly. Or at least I started to sit up, but the stiffness around my ribs protested once more.
“Here.” The King placed the tray on a small table that sat behind the couch. “Let me help.” He reached for me—
My body recoiled as it had been trained to do when hands that could become claws or fists got too close. I tried to stop it, but it was a reflex beyond my control.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Caden said.
“I know.” I closed my eyes and then opened them. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t, Brighton. Remember?” His voice was soft. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Okay?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Do you want me to help you sit up, or do you want to do it yourself?” he asked. “I’m hoping you’ll let me because I don’t want to see you in pain.”
I glanced at him and saw that all those thick, golden strands were pulled back from his face, and the whole situation struck me as funny even if I didn’t laugh.
The King of all the Summer fae was serving me soup in bed.
Weird.
“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, lifting my gaze to his face. His expression was devoid of any emotion. “You don’t owe me—”
“Did you forget that I can scent your emotions?” Caden interrupted, and Christ, I sort of had. “That I know what you’re feeling? That I knew the whole time I was in here earlier?”
“Okay. Do you want a gold sticker or something? The kind with a little smiley face on it?”
He cracked a grin. “God, how I missed your attitude.”
I frowned.
“I know you think I’m here because I feel guilt or a responsibility to you. I don’t even have to have my ‘super special fae abilities’ to know that. You said it, but I can feel it. Your distrust of my motives, and your fear that I pity you is like burnt rubber.”
My frown started to increase. “Now I really do feel like I need to apologize for offending your sensitive nostrils.”
One eyebrow cocked. “I need you to understand something, Brighton. I’m here right now because I want to be. I’m here because I need to be—let me finish,” he said when I opened my mouth. “That need is not drawn from some sense of guilt or remorse. Don’t get me wrong, I feel a whole lot of that, but it is not what drives my actions.”
“Then what does?” I challenged, feeling the prickle of irritation, which was far better than anything else I was feeling. I latched on to it, wrapping the anger around me like the fuzziest, softest blanket. “You’re engaged, Caden. Something you failed to tell me before you fucked me, both literally and figuratively.”
“I did not fuck you. Not literally. You did not fuck me.”
“Oh, okay. What then? We made love?” I coughed out a harsh laugh. “Pretty sure you don’t make love when you’re going to marry someone else.”
Caden’s jaw hardened. “This is not the time to talk about this.”
“Damn right,” I snapped, pushing myself upright because arguing while lying prone in a bed really made me feel like I was at a disadvantage. It cost me, though. The flare of pain told me it was time to investigate that pill bottle that had been sitting on the nightstand after I’d stepped out of the shower. “There’s no point talking about any of this at all.”
“Oh, there’s a whole lot of points for why we need to talk about this.” Making a sound under his breath, he stepped forward and then halted. “Can I help you?”
“No.” I moved again, gasping. I slumped back, my heart pounding from the exertion of sitting up and failing.
Caden crossed his arms. “Do you not want me to help because you don’t want to be touched or because you’re angry with me.”
Both, but mostly the angry part at this point. I was being ridiculous. To eat, I needed to sit up. And I needed to eat because I was hungry, and I needed to get my strength back. “Fine. Whatever. You can help me.”
“You sure?”
I shot him a dark look that promised murder.
He smiled at me, and it was a real one. The kind that softened the beauty of his face and brought fire to his amber eyes.
My breath caught.
I hated myself.
Caden chuckled under his breath, but then he moved toward me. I braced myself, but when Caden carefully slid an arm under my shoulders, I didn’t freak, so bonus points there. He lifted me up, helping me lean against the fluffed pillows.
“Thank you,” I muttered, about as gracious as a spoiled child.
“You’re very welcome.”