10. Chapter Ten

ROSE

It's four a.m., and we'd arrived home from my parent's house around two hours ago. My mates are asleep, each of them sprawled out in our oversize bed. The hallway is cloaked in darkness, save for a thin sliver of light spilling from beneath the bathroom door. My feet shuffle against the chilly stone floor as I wait for the shower to shut off and for its occupant to leave the room.

Kieran is in there, and I need to talk to him, but I don't want a repeat of the last time I waltzed into the bathroom when I shouldn't have.

Well, I do, but I fucked that all up the first time. And now, under the din of the water, I can hear quiet groans. There's no doubt what he's doing.

Again.

As far as I know, he's not seeing anyone else, but who knows? He's probably pent up with months of sexual frustration. Does he do that every time he's in there? He's got a door on his room now, so he has privacy there. But he chooses instead to do it right across the hall from where I sleep.

The hall lights up with the glow of my skin, an almost neon blue illuminating everything within a twenty-foot radius.

Think of other things.

Not the firm grip of his hand around his cock.

Astronomy.

Nor the strength in his forearms as he strokes himself.

Herbology.

Definitely not the piercing, and how it might feel inside me.

Level 200 bestiary classes.

The way he might say my name as he comes.

Wait, that was definitely him grunting my name. Fuck. I don't want him to know I've been out here, eavesdropping on him. I need this blue glow to go away. Now.

Think of magical elements; aetherium, ignatite, aquaral, ventaso, terranox, luxon, nocturne, frostel, voltis, druidium, psychite, spectral, chronox, magmara, celestine.

By the time I finish reciting the two lines of the table of magical elements, the hallway is dark again. The shower's still running, its steady hum a background noise to the quiet that's settled around me. As the sound of water continues unabated, the silence allows my thoughts to drift back to why I'm here in the first place.

Kieran has been gone for two days, and I need to talk to him about our summer plans and see if he's willing to pursue things with me. I don't have a lot of confidence he will be, not after he poured his heart out to me and I squashed it, but I've got to try. For all I know, it'll seem disingenuous, given the fact we need him.

I don't just need him, though; I want him. The idea of anyone else completing what we have hollows out my stomach.

I don't want anyone else.

Fatigue claws at me, but the moment I heard the door open earlier, I slipped away from the tangled limbs of my sleeping mates to find him. Now, I wait.

Eventually, my legs grow weary, and I settle down beside the bathroom door, leaning against the cool wall. My eyelids grow heavy as I listen to the persistent flow of water. He's been in there for over thirty minutes now, and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. My head droops, and soon I'm lost to sleep, my breathing deepening as I succumb to exhaustion.

Kieran

Wrapping a towel tightly around my waist, I take a moment to inspect the mural of tattoos inked across my torso in the foggy bathroom mirror. Each mark, a story of its own, a reminder of past pains and fleeting joys. And the roses. So many fucking roses, all out of reach, so I etched them into my skin.

The air, heavy with steam, carries the delicate scent of pineapple, a reminder of Rose as it's her body wash that clings to my skin now, its familiar fragrance filling the room. I can't bathe in her, so I choose to drown myself in her scent instead.

My fingers twist the snake bite piercings in my lips as I adjust them, then I run my tongue over the hoops. After fixing my eyebrow rings, I'm finally ready. I push the door open, and a cloud of steam billows out with me, momentarily blurring my vision as I step into the dark hallway. I take a step forward, expecting nothing but the chilly, familiar stone under my feet.

Instead, my foot catches on something unexpectedly soft and solid. Before I can process what's happening, my balance shifts. I tumble forward, arms flailing for something to grasp but finding nothing. The ground rushes up to meet me, and only too late do I realize what—or rather, who—I've stumbled over.

With a thud that knocks the wind out of both of us, I land heavily on Rose, and she lets out a shriek, her skin flashing blue. Pain. Our bodies are pressed together in a tangle of limbs and the surprise of sudden contact.

Always fucking falling when it comes to her.

She strikes out at my chest, beating on it until I capture her wrists, pinning them over her head until she realizes who it is.

"Kieran?" she asks in a hushed tone. She glances down at where our torsos are pressed together.

I've still got her pinned by her wrists, forcing her back into a deep arch. My wet hair dangles before my eyes, but I can still make out her outfit—a tiny tank top that barely covers her chest and shorts just as scant.

A deeper, more pronounced blue illuminates her body as she shifts under me, my towel having come undone and draping over us.

"What are you doing out here?" My voice is a raspy whisper, clouded with pleasant surprise. "Are you okay?" The heat of our sudden closeness sends a jolt through me, a confusing mix of concern and other, harder-to-name emotions swirling between us.

Definitely harder.

It feels like I'm in one of those cheesy scenes from a porno where two enemies end up accidentally having sex when they fall on each other. Except, she's still more clothed than I'd prefer.

"I…" she starts to say, but her words are swallowed by the lump in her throat. Her body goes rigid under me, her ocean eyes darting from mine to my still-clenched hands around her delicate wrists. An unexpected vulnerability whispers through her gaze, and like a surgeon's blade, slices through the mask she usually wears. Soft with surprise, her lips part slightly and the words she was struggling with seem to hang in the air, suspended between us.

"I was looking for you," she finally manages to choke out.

With a slow deliberation, I release the grip on her wrists, my hands sliding back down her arms, tracing the delicate goosebumps that adorn her skin, before they find a home on her hips.

As her eyes widen in surprise, the door swings open, filling the hallway with bright light. Chaotic shouts and commotion take over.

"Rose!" The voices are alarmed and furious. Within moments, strong hands grab me, yanking me off of her.

I barely register who's who before Mekhi's words cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Get the fuck off her!" His hands shove against my chest, sending me stumbling backwards. I'm still fucking naked as my back hits the opposite wall, and I slide down, landing hard on my ass, smarting from the pain. I always underestimate this witches' strength. I need to stop thinking of him as human.

"Stop! It's not what you think!" Rose's shout pierces the tumult, desperate and clear. She scrambles to her feet, her expression one of fierce protection—over me, unexpectedly. Her arms flail towards her mates, signaling them to calm down.

Theo and Jax hover near, their postures tense, ready to jump back into action at any sign of threat. The professor looks like he wants to kill me. Jax, less so.

"Did he attack you?" Mekhi grits out between clenched teeth, ready to wage war against a fae he'd never dream of beating in a fight. It's not an even match. Gotta hand it to him, though.

Their eyes dart between Rose and me, confusion starting to seep into their expressions as they take in her urgency to explain rather than cry out in distress.

Rose shoves herself out of Deakan's arms to scoop up my towel and walk it over to me. "He didn't do anything! I fell asleep sitting here, waiting to talk to him. He tripped—that's all that happened!"

I push myself up, wincing at the ache in my tailbone. The misunderstanding hangs heavy in the air, as thick as the steam that still lingers. My gaze meets Rose's, her cheeks flushed, not just from the fall, but from the rush of defending a truth only we know firsthand.

Ignoring her outstretched hand, I steady myself against the wall as I snatch the towel from her and wrap it around my waist with slow deliberation. They watch every move, their eyes weary with residual suspicion.

They think I'd attack Rose. After all we've been through, after all the bullshit, their doubts cut deeper than any physical wound.

After everything, I'm still on the outside looking in.

With my emotions boiling just beneath the surface, I storm away from them, my strides echoing off the cave walls as I make my way through the winding tunnels. The ache in my tailbone fades behind the sharper sting of betrayal. I throw pointed glares over my shoulder at Jax and Deakan, my so-called best friends, their faces masks of regret as I pass. Their hesitation to defend me, after everything we've shared, sears deeper than any fall.

As I round a corner, I nearly collide with Bennett, who's stumbling out into the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What the hell's going on?" he mumbles, squinting in the nascent light, his curly hair tousled and standing on end.

"Not now," I snap, my voice harsher than I intend. His brows knit together, a frown forming as he steps back, hands raised in a peace-offering gesture.

"You look like shit, man. What happened?" There's genuine concern in his tone, but I'm too riled up to appreciate it.

"Just go back to bed," I grunt, brushing past him, not willing to unpack the mess that just unfolded. The hurt from the misunderstanding with Rose and the others gnaws at me, urging me to put distance between myself and the reminder of where I don't seem to belong.

I never should've fucking stayed here. Should've gone the other day when I'd planned to.

As I push forward, the familiar cool, damp humidity of the cave does little to soothe my frayed heartache. Reaching my room, I slam the door behind me, the sound a dull thud in the otherwise silent space. I toss the lock and add a sealing charm to it so no one can pick it.

Alone, the full weight of the evening's accusations presses down on me, and I lean against the door, my head bowed, fighting the emotion welling up inside.

From the corridor, muffled voices carry the echoes of a heated discussion. I can almost picture Rose, her face flushed with anger and then concern, possibly defending me still, even as I walked away. The thought does little to ease the sting of isolation that settles like frost upon my heart.

A sudden silence falls upon the cave. It's almost deafening in its intensity, the echoes of the argument seemingly swallowed by the cavernous space. Climbing to my feet, I push off from the door, crossing my room to stare out into the inky dark. The stalactites glisten with a perpetual moisture, reflecting the muted light from the complex matrix of phosphorescent fungi and fae lights strung across the ceiling, forming constellations of ethereal blue. I yank on a pair of elastic athletic shorts and throw on a hooded sweatshirt and tennis shoes. A moment later, I'm slipping out through a hidden exit at the rear of my room, my need to clear my head stronger than the desire for solitary confinement.

I'd built this tunnel so that it comes out of a small cavern on the other side of the dense tree line, a private pocket of nature untouched by the fae. I needed a way to get out undetected to go to Espero without them asking too many questions. Here, the grass is dew-soaked and would be chilly under bare feet, the moonlight fractured by a dense canopy of leaves overhead.

As I trudge deeper into the jungle, the ambient sounds of fossibeetles and nocturnal creatures blend with the faint whisper of the wind through the boughs.

"Where are you going?"

The sound of bare feet slapping against the wet, squelching mud reaches my ears, and I spin around to face her. My heart lodges in my throat as I prepare for a confrontation. But what greets me isn't what I expect. Instead of a fierce glare or clenched fists, she looks crestfallen and defeated. Despite the pang of sympathy, I can't let myself get sucked into her web. I brace myself and try to maintain a neutral expression.

"How did you know I got out?" I ask, my tone even and controlled despite the clusterfuck inside me. But my non-answer doesn't make her very happy.

She sinks to the ground, her chest heaving with exertion. Her hair is a mess, clinging to her skin. Sweat glistens on her forehead and her breath comes in ragged gasps as she sprawls out. Normally, she's got endless energy at night because of the moons, but it's overcast, which dampens her abilities. I stand above her, my arms crossed over my chest protectively. She looks up at me, her eyes ablaze with anger.

"Chaos watched you leave and told me about your stupid hidden exit."

I curse under my breath at that sneaky bastard. Should've known he'd figure it out. He spends so much time stalking the skies above Sanctuary.

As if remembering that she's livid with me, she struggles to her feet and takes a step towards me, giving my chest a hard shove.

"Don't be a fucking coward," she spits, flecks of spittle flying from her mouth. Her voice is filled with venom as she grits out each word through clenched teeth.

I take a defensive step back as she shoves me again, sending me stumbling into a nearby palm tree. Her rage is a living, breathing thing as she continues to berate me.

"What?"

"You heard me." She shoves me again, and I take another stumbling step back as I round the palm tree. A bird takes flight out of where it was perched on a limb above us somewhere. It makes an agitated huffing sound as it bounds off to another hideout. "For weeks, I've tried to talk to you, and you've completely shut me out!"

She makes to push me again, but I'm expecting it, so I swing her around, so she's trapped in my arms, her back to my chest, with mine resting against the rough bark.

I lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear as I struggle to find the right words. She and I both know she's bested me nearly every time during Spar Games practice, but she's not putting up a fight right now.

"You want to talk about a fucking coward?" I growl in her ear, my hand cupping her neck to tilt her head back, so it rests on my shoulder. "Or are you too busy fucking every time you shower to look in the mirror when you're done?"

She sucks in a sharp breath. Good, I hope that stung.

"When are you going to get it through your head that I want nothing to do with any of you anymore?" Lies.

This time, all the air whooshes from her lungs.

"You don't mean that."

"I do," I hiss. I don't. "You forget you walked away from me. I bared my whole fucking soul for you, only for you to climb right back into bed with my best friends and leave me in the dust. No more, Rose. I'm done."

Her mates have made it perfectly clear what they think of me tonight. It just helped me remember why I need to cut them off now. All of them. Especially after they rub it in my face day after day, night after night, when they're buried in her, and I'm left having to listen to what I can't have.

I watch as tears spill from her giant blue eyes, and her eyelashes cling together as they blink rapidly to dispel the moisture, but the deluge comes anyway. I hate that I love the way she looks when she cries. But maybe it's because these tears are for me. That she feels something for me.

Conflicted. That's what I feel right now.

What would she do if I dragged my tongue across her face and drank those tears?

They're mine.

A part of me revels in it. The thought is intoxicating, heady. I want to taste her pain, her longing. I want her to know the sliver of agony she's caused me. Wedge it right between the ribs where it can fester like it has in me.

"Stop lying to me." Her words come out broken, choked by sobs. I can feel her shaking against me, can feel her throat swallow under my palm, but I refuse to offer comfort. "To yourself." Her pulse thunders against my tattooed fingers.

Me. I've done that.

"You mean like you did? When I told you I'd burn the fucking world for you, and you looked me in the eye right before you shut the door in my face?" I'm the one trembling now, with barely suppressed rage and grief. I don't notice that I've tightened my hold on her throat until she swallows again.

But I don't loosen my grip.

Her eyes widen at the pressure, a hint of fear flashing in their depth before her gaze hardens. She knows she can get out of this. But maybe we both need this.

Maybe we both need to dance on the edge of this blade before we fall on it.