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I drain the rest of my glass and set it down, the weight of the night pressing down on me. I tell myself that this ache, this need for him, is all in my head.
Deep down, I know that’s a lie.
Mal is here. And as much as I hate to admit it, I just wish he’d come find me.
25
FREYA
I stand justoutside the guest house, my heart pounding in my chest, scowling to myself.
Why should I be the one to go to him?
And yet here I am.
Maybe it’s a masochistic streak in me. Or a pathological pathetic-ness. Maybe I’ve just had one too many glasses of wine and this is an all-around terrible idea I should sleep on.
Maybe the real problem is that Mal keeps thinking I want more from him.
The building is quiet, dimly lit, and such a contrast to the mansion behind me. Itissecluded, separated from the main house by a series of little walkways through old trees, bamboo groves, and gardens filled with little shrines. But it feels secluded, too, almost like it exists in a separate world.
I should turn around. Walk away. Go back to the safety of the mansion and pretend this pull toward him doesn’t exist. But I know I won’t.
My hand trembles as I grip the handle and push open the door without knocking.
“What are you doing in here, Freya?”
I gasp, electricity jolting through my body as his voice rumbles from the darkness. I shiver, allowing my eyes to adjust to the low light.
Mal is standing with his back to me, his broad shoulders tense, his body still. He’s by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that look out through the trees at all of Kyoto below. The lights are off inside, but with the moonlight coming in, I can see that the guesthouse is a big, open, double-height great room with a balcony around the perimeter of the second floor, almost like a traditional karatedojo.
When I don’t immediately answer, Mal turns to me, his silhouette dark against the lights of the city and the moonlight behind him. The trees outside the window wave slightly in the breeze, and as the moonlight shifts, I realize he’s shirtless, the white gleam from outside illuminating his grooved muscles and heavy tattoo ink.
My bottom lip retreats between my teeth as I feel the sharp icy-blue glint of his eyes pierce the divide between us and right into my soul. Then I shrug. “You weren’t out there.”
His eyes lock with mine, and just like every time before, my breath catches. There’sso muchunsaid between us, so much tension crackling in the air. I don’t know how long we stand there, staring at each other, but I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears.
“I’m not going to tell them,” he finally growls, his voice quieter.
“Tell who what?” I frown, stepping closer.
He clenches his jaw as his eyes flick away from mine. “You know what I mean.”
I stiffen. He’s talking about Kir and my family—the people I love most. The people I’ve been terrified would find out the truth about where I came from, and my father, and everything else I’ve tried to bury.
Mal looks at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I know what it’s like to finally find something close to family.” He swallows hard. “I’m not going to destroy that for you.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my heart clenches. I wasn’t expecting this sudden admission and rare glimpse into the man he is underneath the layers of darkness and control. He’s spent so long keeping me at arm’s length, and now, just for a split-second, I see it. His vulnerability.
I don’t know what to say. My mind is reeling with a mixture of emotions, but all I can do is stare at him, the tension between us palpable.
“So where does that leave us?” I finally ask, my voice quiet but firm.
Mal’s eyes harden. “There is no us,” he growls. “Our arrangement is terminated. You’re free to go.”
The words hit me like a slap. But I stay rooted to the spot, my gaze locked on his. “I’m still here,” I whisper.
He steps toward me slowly. “I’m giving you a fucking out, Freya,” he snarls. “You think you want the monster in me? Trust me, youdon’t,” he rasps. “You haven’t seen the worst of me.”
