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I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me, and I know it’s hurting her too.
Maybe… I need to let her go.
My beast whines.
Fates, can I do that though?
I must. We can’t keep doing this.
I stew over what to do all night and the next day. By the time the sun has begun to set, and I make my way through the forest to my cabin, I still haven’t made up my mind about what I’m going to do.
I’m empty handed when I arrive at the cabin. Tonight, I don’t bother with trying to butter her up with her favorite food. I don’t have any plans other than to try to talk with her. And if that doesn’t work…
I push through the front door with a huff and head straight to the basement, hitting the lights on my way. By the time I reach the bottom she’s looking at me, but it’s not an expression I’m familiar with. There is no malice. No hate. Not even curiosity reflects in her golden eyes. She just stares.
Without a word I cross to the bed and hit the lever that loosens the chains holding her so she can sit up. While she pushes herself up to sit against the headboard, I pull the chair beside the bed. That’s when I see the mess from the previous night.
I let out a heavy sigh.
“You left me so I could barely move, I don’t know how you expected me to clean that up,” she quips, folding her arms across her chest.
I hang my head, because she’s right. I’m not angry with her over it anyway. I’m angry with myself for how I left.
“I know,” I say as I bend to clean the mess.
When I finish, and take my seat once more, she’s staring at me with the most curious expression. Almost like she can’t believe that I just did what I did. It makes my heart jump a little that we might be able to have a conversation without it turning into a fight. As soon as I think it, I know that I can’t get my hopes up. If I can trust Izzy—Isabelle—to do anything, it’s to do the opposite of whatever I want her to.
“Alright, Isabelle,” I begin, leaning over with my elbows braced on my thighs. “I think we can both agree that this isn’t working.” I wave my hand between us.
She kicks her chin up but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t look away either.
“I’ve told you what I want. I’ve been crystal clear with you, but I’ve never asked what you want, just assumed that you would want the same things as me. Obviously, that’s not the case. So, I’m asking you now,” I take a deep breath and look into her eyes. Holding her gaze with mine. “What do you want?”
Her mouth opens and I expect one of her snapping responses, but then she pauses, and nothing comes out. Moments pass as she considers her words. Confliction flickers across her face and then she drags her eyes away from mine.
So quiet that I almost don’t catch it, she whispers, “I don’t know.”
She’s purposely keeping her gaze on the wall beside her, but I don’t miss the slight tremor running through her hands as she clutches them in her lap.
My heart speeds up as I realize I’m seeing another glimpse at the real Isabelle.
I make my decision as I stand up and reach behind her to release the chains binding her completely. Then I fish a key out of my pants pocket and reach across her to unlock the cuffs. At my light touch, she jumps but then her expression turns to confusion as I unlock her.
“Wha—what are you doing?” she asks as the irons drop, one by one, into her lap and at the foot of the bed.
When she’s completely free, I sit back down in the chair beside her bed.
“You’re free to go,” I say.
Her amber eyes narrow as she rubs at her wrists that are red and raw from the alloy. Seeing her hurt like that has my beastgrowling, and it’s all I can do not to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. The only thing stopping me is the fact that she might not be here when I return. I may be choosing to let my mate go, but I will spend every second with her that she’ll let me until that happens.
“Why?” she asks when I don’t elaborate.
“Because I don’t want a mate I have to chain by my side. I want you to be with me because you want to.”
Emotions I can’t name flicker across her face as her eyes dart around the room. Looking everywhere but at me. My heart squeezes at the way she’s purposely avoiding meeting my eyes.
Minutes pass and she doesn’t move. I expect her bratty side to surface, for her to tell me to get bent before disappearing. Instead, she just sits on the bed and absently rubs at her wrists. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to have a peek into what she’s thinking.
