Page 37 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

“What are you thinking?” The moment the question slips out, his scent retreats as swiftly as it had intensified. It’s as though he’s returned to how he was before our bond.

He gazes into my eyes. “I sense a combination of awe and uncertainty from you, but, interestingly, no regret.”

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Regret was indeed absent from my emotions, and its absence surprises me. This newfound intimacy between us, as startling as it is, feels right, even if I’m not ready to admit that to myself.

“How did you cut off your emotions from me? One moment your scent was overwhelming, tangled with what you were feeling, and the next it vanished,” I inquire.

“It’s how you shield your feelings when you don’t want to get hurt or when you’re controlling your magic. But don’t go too extreme. You don’t need to construct an impenetrable fortress around your heart. It’s more like closing a window,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. The thought of him trying to unravel the maze of my emotions is already making me cringe. I reflect on the barriers I’ve erected around my heart over the years, those protective walls that have seen me through tough times. Visualizing a window, like he suggested, I imagine it closing. Taking a deep breath, I focus, trying to find some semblance of calm.

“Is it working?” I ask quickly before I lose focus. Gods, this is going to be exhausting trying to guard how I’m feeling all the time.

“It’s working.” He nods.

“Did my scent intensify when you felt my emotions? Like the emotions were carried to you with my smell, and at first it was hard to decipher if it was what you were feeling or what I was feeling?”

“Yes. It was how you always smell, only more intense.” He moves to the table and begins pouring two glasses of whiskey.

“What do I smell like?” I ask. I know I smell of honeysuckle, but I want to know how I smell to him, especially with it being more potent now.

“You smell of young roses, fresh dew, and honeysuckle…” His voice trails off, and he takes a prolonged sip from his glass. My cheeks flush with warmth. I want to approach him, to feel the touch of his skin against mine. Yet, the haunting memories of that night surge back to the forefront of my mind. Did he reject me because of my past? Because of the violations I’ve endured? Or did he truly believe I was yearning for Nyx?

He moves closer to me, offering the glass of whiskey. A sudden rush of emotion from him pierces my chest — sympathy. Damn. I’m clearly failing to shield my feelings.

“Don’t pity me,” I snap, snatching the glass and emptying its contents in one go.

He clears his throat, swiftly shutting down his emotions once more. “I apologize. I’ll become more adept at guarding my feelings. It’s... I hadn’t fully understood.” He hesitates, shaking his head as if dispelling a thought, then gently retrieves the empty glass from my grasp.

“Understood what?” I urge, narrowing the distance between us.

He tenderly brushes tangled strands of hair from my face, tucking them securely behind my ear. “Your pain. It isn’t fleeting or superficial. Beneath everything, there’s a profound sorrow, a persistent ache. I hadn’t realized how deep-seated that hurt is.”

I swallow hard, struggling to keep the sudden rush of emotions at bay. “You see, that’s the thing,” I whisper, my voice shaky, “so few people ever really see beneath the surface. I’ve become so good at wearing masks, at hiding the scars. But with you, with this tether, there’s no hiding, is there?” I meet his gaze, searching for understanding. “Maybe that’s what terrifies me the most— the thought of someone truly seeing me, all of me. Not just the broken parts but the strength that’s kept me going.”

His green eyes search mine, assertive and piercing. “Lyra,” he says, voice firm and grounded, “from the moment I saw you, I recognized that fire in you. Even tethered now, I don’t feel the shadows of your past. I feel that relentless strength, that fiery spirit that you’ve honed from every challenge thrown your way. I don’t pity you. I admire your strength and resilience. I only wish I had been here for you sooner, to shield you from everything you’ve had to endure until now.” He steps decisively closer, his body emanating a heat that beckons me.

His fingers tenderly brush my cheek, compelling me to look up at him. My eyes, heavy with anticipation, look up to find his. “Colton,” I murmur, his name lingering on my lips, laden with desire. We are mere breaths apart, the touch of his hand on my face sending waves of electricity through me. A yearning consumes me, a hunger to feel the pressure of his mouth on mine, to savor the taste of him.

He releases my chin, taking a step back. “We should get some rest. It’s late.”

I search for anything from him, but he’s much older and stronger than I am. From many years of controlling his Fae magic, he’s obviously going to master blocking me out a lot quicker than I am. There’s nothing to be found. Whatever he’s feeling is trapped behind that window in his chest. He tears off his shirt and climbs into bed next to Chepi.

I go into the bathing chamber and clean up, my body hot with unfulfilled desire. Why doesn’t he want me? He’s just toying with me. He flirts and teases, but every time we get close he falls back out of reach. I don’t understand. I blow out a breath, stripping off my clothes and donning a nightgown. I crawl into bed and turn away from him, pulling a pillow to my chest and closing my eyes.

I feel heat in my core, and my skin is flushed. I want to… “Whatever you’re thinking right now…stop. Or I won’t be able to control myself and it’ll be a long night.”

Colton moves behind me, tugging my back against his chest. Gods, I need to keep my walls up and my window closed. I don’t know what emotions I was projecting, but I have so much built-up sexual tension in my body right now. I want Colton more than I’d care to admit, his strong arms wrap around me, and I wish he was touching me lower.

“Stop reading my emotions if you can’t control yourself,” I snap.

“I’m not intentionally sensing them. It’s how this works. You project, and I can’t ignore it. You’ll get better at controlling it. We both will.” His fingers splay across my stomach, drawing me close until I’m nestled against his solid chest. Normally, we’d only gravitate to this closeness once one of us drifts into sleep, but tonight carries a different weight. It’s clear why — we’re navigating the unfamiliar waters of sensing each other’s raw emotions. But this bond, though new, is something I’m determined to master. In due time, I’ll perfect the art of shielding my feelings from him, revealing them only if I need to. After all, I got the impression this tether is more for him being able to locate me if I’m in trouble anyways.

Rest eludes me. My mind is relentless and won’t shut off. Perhaps tonight is the opportunity to broach topics I’ve hesitated to discuss with Colton. He may be powerful, but he is still adjusting to this new bond, just like me. Maybe it’s the ideal time to gauge his true feelings. Catching him off guard with my questions could give me a genuine glimpse into his emotions, should his shields momentarily falter.

Pushing his arm away, I flip over to face him. “Look, I’m not tired, and I’m certainly not ready to sleep.” A huff escapes me, and an amused smirk dances across his face.

“You appear rather adorable when flustered. What has you so riled up?”

“Colton, it’s maddening. One moment, you’re close, and the next it feels like you’re a million miles away. It’s as if you’re constantly torn between emotions. What are you truly feeling?”