Page 126 of Elysian

Withering

It took me a moment to take in his abrupt response. I opened and closed my mouth, at a loss for words.

Then anger swelled forth. He dared to tell me ‘no’.

“You are a moody, cruel bastard, Cassiel Draven.”

My words whipped through the chamber like a lash. His eyebrows shot up toward his forehead.

“After everything,” I began, setting the journal on the edge of the bed. I slowly approached. “You continue to decree?” I reached his side. “After all you have done to me?”

His lids slit open, fury angling at me.

“Angry?” I spat. “Well, in your weakened state, you cannot stop me.” I threw myself on top of him. His eyes widened. With a firm grip on his shoulders, I lowered my mouth to his skin.

His hand closed around my neck, and he pulled me back with a forceful yank. I hovered a finger’s length from his mouth. I panted, my knees digging into the mattress.

“No.”

His heated stare spat anger, yet his grip remained both firm and gentle. His arm stretched beside my cheek. I lunged to sink my teeth into his skin. Pinches stung my scalp as Cassiel wound his hand into my unbound hair.

“Damned redblood, listen!” I fixed him with a hard look, hovering on the verge of discomfort.

“No,” I bit out.

His lips twitched down at the corners. Panic filled his face. It shuttered over quickly, and his expression smoothed.

“I will have to make you then,” he leaned close and captured my lips in a kiss.

His tongue swept into my mouth, plunging with force. I placed my palms on his chest and my thumb collided with the thick liquid dripping from his sternum. Desire always hovered on the surface with us, but I could not let his mouth confuse me. I was unsure if biting his tongue would complete the bond, but it was worth a try.

My tongue barely managed to graze his when he pulled back, his fang slicing my bottom lip. Red tinted his mouth.

He deflected with cruelty or with his body—whichever kept him from having to speak. He’d done both in the span of heartbeats.

I do not know how to express what I feel . . .

His words from the fog came to mind. All of his behavior clearly showed how inept he was with feelings.

We stared into each other’s eyes. My mind raced with understanding. His mother had abandoned him as a boy. Then he was found by Vaner in whatever body he wore, and he had honed Cassiel into who and what he was.

For someone who valued strength, could he blame me for his deterioration? Was that why he refused?

“You will not use your tactics to change the conversation,” I said, a bit breathless from the kiss. “Tell me the truth. How long have you seen the effects of the withering?”

A beat of silence, then, “A while.”

“And you said nothing?” I scoffed. He refused to look at me. “Do you resent me for how I have weakened you?”

He drew back as if I had struck him. “You foolish girl.” He glanced away, and he exhaled in a harsh gust. “It is . . .” he trailed off and cleared his throat. His hand fell off my shoulder and rested on my waist. His nostrils flared with an exhale.

I remained silent, watching him expectantly.

“Do you care for me?” he asked abruptly.

The breath in my throat halted. I focused on the pulsing where the red and gold met in his eyes as I closed my mouth to try to speak again, but nothing came out. My chest felt tight and my face stiff. I did not know how to respond.

“I . . .”