“But it’s not assimilation you truly fear, is it?” I said it softly, my gaze searching his. Looking for the emotions he was never going to reveal, but that I nevertheless knew were there. The hum of them echoed through the deeper parts of my being, warm and precious.
For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said softly, “No.”
“Then for once tell me the truth, Azriel. What is it you truly fear?”
His hesitation was longer this time.
“What I fear,” he said eventually, “is us.”
Chapter 11
Of all the answers I’d expected, that certainly wasn’t one of them. I reached for him, but he stepped away from me.
“You do not understand,” he said, his mismatched blue eyes glowing with a fierceness that was part determination, part desperation. “I have a task to achieve, one that is vitally important to both our worlds. I cannot let emotion get in the way or cloud my judgment.”
“But this isn’t about emotion—”
“It is, and we both know it.”
His words should have made me want to dance. Instead, they scared the hell out of me. Because he was right. Whatever this thing between us actually was, it was certainly more than just sexual attraction. It had the potential to be something far deeper, far stronger. It was something that could change both our lives, in ways I couldn’t even begin to see or imagine.
But he obviously could, and that’s what scared me.
I licked suddenly dry lips and said, “If you’ve feared this all along, then why did you give in to desire in the first place?”
“If I was without flaws, I would not be a dark angel.”
“But it’s only made things worse.”
Because now we both knew just how good we were together. And we were both aware that what we’d shared was only a beginning, that there was a whole lot more left unexplored between us.
“I understand that now, but I cannot undo what has been done.” He paused, then added softly, “Nor would I want to. When all this is over and we resume our separate lives, I will at least have something to cherish, even if it is only a memory.”
Tears prickled my eyes. Goddamn it, I did want an end to the madness. I did want life to resume normalcy. But at the same time, I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without Azriel’s presence in it.
Which only testified to just how much I’d come to care for my stubborn reaper.
“We both hunger for things that should not be,” he said, his voice gentle. “But for the sake of our worlds, it cannot be.”
It was very tempting to just say fuck our worlds, what about us? I’d always been one to fight for what I wanted, but this was a very different situation. What I wanted—what he wanted—really didn’t matter in the bigger scheme of things. It never had.
God, I wanted to scream about the unfairness of it all. But that wouldn’t help anyone. I guess I just had to pull on my big-girl britches and deal with the situation as best I could.
“That is all the fates can expect of either of us,” he agreed softly.
“The fates need to be fucking shot,” I muttered, then thrust a hand through my hair. “I guess I’m going to bed alone, then.”
“I guess you are.” His words were as flat as his expression, but behind the facade, frustration burned, and it was every bit as deep as mine.
I forced myself to turn around and climb into bed. Drew the covers up and told myself to sleep.
Which I did.
Eventually.
And not before a very long battle against the urge to get up and claim what we both desired.
* * *