Chapter Eight

”Come with me,” Troy whispers, running his fingers up and down my back in lazy patterns. ”It”ll do you good to get away from the cabin for a little while, angel. You”ve been here for days.”

I turn my head to the side, looking at him. His offer is tempting. It”s been nearly a week since I stumbled upon the cabin, but it”s too risky.

If I go back to the Stonehaven with him, his father might see me. Or someone else might. They”ll tell him who I am, and my carefully constructed house of cards will collapse.

I”m not ready for that yet. Every day, the connection between us grows more intense. His games get more twisted and more delicious. I know he feels something for me. I feel it when he touches me. But I don”t know if it”s enough yet.

If he finds out who I am, will he run?

The possibility is too terrifying. Because every day that I spend with him, I fall more deeply in love. I”m consumed by him—his touch, the filthy things he says to me, the unholy things he does to me, the way he holds me so tightly at night.

The thought of losing him is overwhelming—not because of the curse and what might happen with it, but because he feels like a piece of me. Something vital and necessary.

I can”t give that up.

”I”d rather stay here,” I whisper regretfully.

He narrows his eyes at me, suspicious. ”You”re hiding something from me.”

”Yes, a desire not to meet the man who makes you miserable,” I say, keeping my tone light. It”s the truth…wrapped in a lie. I in no way want to meet his father. The fact that he makes Troy miserable makes me even less eager to meet him.

”No.” Troy sits up, pulling me up with him. ”That”s not it. You”re hiding something, angel. I know you are. Tell me.”

”I”m not…”

”Don”t lie to me,” he warns me.

This is the part I hate. The lying. The hiding. The evading. He”s given me so much of him, telling me everything about him and his life, but there are entire parts of mine that I can”t share with him. I want to tell him everything, spill all my secrets, and pray that what he feels for me is enough to keep him here. But if it”s not…I lose everything.

”Maybe I don”t want my father to find me,” I say, wrapping the sheet around me and climbing from the bed. ”Did you ever think of that?”

”You”re afraid of him.” His voice is a menacing growl of sound.

I shrug, not sure how to answer that. I”m not afraid my father will physically hurt me. I”ve never been afraid of that. But he wanted to force me into marriage, knowing what it would do to me. He didn”t know Troy was my one true love, the only man alive capable of breaking the curse.

He has love—he has my mom. She isn”t a Rosewood, so she never endured the curse. But he doesn”t care about the curse or my destiny. He saw an alliance and dollar signs, and my future no longer mattered. That”s a kind of wound that scars deeper than the physical.

Am I afraid of him? I never was until the day he threatened to lock me in the tower, taking every ounce of freedom I had left.

I didn”t even get to say goodbye to my mom.

My shoulders shake, tears coursing down my cheeks.

”Thalia,” Troy whispers in horror, rising from the bed. His steps are heavy against the floor as he crosses to me, dragging me into his arms. His face is a mask of fury. ”Who is he? Give me his name, and I”ll end his miserable life.”

I sob, pressing my face against his chest, letting my tears soak his skin. I haven”t cried—not once since my dad shattered my illusions. Not once since I ran away. I hate that I”m crying now.

I”m the happiest I”ve ever been. But I feel so damn guilty, too.

How do you convince the love of your life that maybe fate isn”t such a bad thing?

I don”t know.

I wish I did.

”Don”t cry, sweet Thalia,” Troy pleads, crushing me to his chest. He rubs my back, being so sweet even though I don”t deserve it. Even though I”m lying to him. ”Please, angel.”

”I”m sorry,” I sob.

He scoops me up into his arms, carrying me back to the bed. I burrow into him, clinging to him as I cry myself out. He murmurs to me, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, telling me that everything is okay and no one is going to hurt me. Eventually, my tears run dry, and I lie quietly in his arms, listening to his strong heartbeat.

”Promise me something,” I plead, staring up at his handsome face.

”Anything,” he says immediately, brushing his fingers beneath my eyes to dry my cheeks.

”Promise me that, no matter what, you”ll never turn into your father,” I say, my throat raw. ”No matter what, you”ll never give into the darkness. You”ll stay Troy.”

I can”t explain why I”m asking, but if he doesn”t choose me—if he decides that this is all too much and he finds someone else to love—in twenty years, I don”t want him to be the kind of man who forces his children into the same desperate predicaments our fathers forced us into. If he can promise me that, then no matter what happens, I”ll always have some little piece of him.

His gaze shifts across my face as if he”s trying to understand why this is important to me. Whatever he sees there must convince him that I need this desperately because he cups my cheek, pressing his forehead to mine. ”I swear to you, Thalia, I”ll never become him. I”ll be your Troy, no matter what.”

Even though I don”t mean to do it, I start crying again.