16. Catalina

16

CATALINA

My first instinct is to ask Thane if he’s drunk. A gift beyond measure? Don’t make me laugh. My whole life has proved otherwise. People don’t toss away priceless gifts. They cherish them. They hold them close?.?.?. kind of like he’s doing right now.

I almost push away. I actually press my hands to his broad chest and tense to do it. But I’m so incredibly tired. Tired of running from the disappointment that flavors the air of every room I walk into. Tired of trying and failing. Even tired of the hopelessness that comes with no longer trying at all.

My throat goes tight, and I swallow several times. I will not cry all over him as if he didn’t just give me the best sex of my life. My body still sings with pleasure from how hard I came. I’ll have to check later, but I’m pretty sure his tentacle-sucker things left marks on my body. I can barely wait to lie alone in my bed and trace my fingertips over them, reliving every moment of this encounter in excruciating detail.

“Are you in any pain?” Thane runs a hand down my spine, a physical reminder that this encounter isn’t over yet. I start to sit up, and his hand splays across my back as if he might hold me to him, but he releases me almost as soon as he tenses.

“No, I’m good.” I’m sore, but it’s a delicious kind of soreness.

“There is a healing cream the bargainer demons use with their humans. I can look into getting some if you’d like.”

“I’m fine. Promise.” I look down to find him watching me with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. It’s not cold or aloof. It’s not even hot with desire. He’s looking at me with something soft and almost tentative in his inky eyes.

It scares the shit out of me, but scrambling off him and diving into the water to put some distance between us is a dick move, and I don’t have it in me. Instead, I look away. “I know I said a lot in the mix, but it’s okay. I don’t need you do to any of those things.”

“Catalina.”

I don’t want to look at him. I’m afraid of what he’ll see on my face. Being with Thane feels so good and so bad at the same time, but at least it’s familiar. He’s cold and I’m needy, and that dynamic is one that I’ve played out again and again. If he changes the game on me, I don’t know how to adapt. If he’s nice to me, I may fall in love with him, and that’s a recipe for disaster.

Really, it’s practically my brand at this point.

“Catalina, look at me.” A pause. “Please.”

Damn it, why did he have to say “please”? I turn back to him, a puppet on a string. He’s still got that look on his face that I don’t understand, but he seems to be trying to mask it, his features falling into the familiar cold, forbidding lines. Relief pulls a shaky exhale from me. “What do you want, Thane?”

He seems to consider and discard several options before he says, “I would like to spend the night with you.”

My heart tries to leap right out of my chest. When it figures out that’s impossible, it dives right into my stomach. God, maybe I am going to cry. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

He doesn’t move. “Are you saying that because you don’t want to sleep with me?.?.?. or because you’re afraid I’m offering because I pity you?”

How dare he reach right into the very heart of me. I have spent so much time saying I don’t give a fuck what the motivation for something is as long as the result feels good. It’s the truth. It has to be.

But it feels like a lie right now.

“Catalina.” Thane doesn’t move, barely appears to breathe, but he feels closer all the same. “Let me hold you tonight.”

Something’s changed.

It can’t be the sex. No matter what the romance novels I consumed by the dozens as a teenager said, sex won’t make a partner fall in love with you. It won’t suddenly cause someone who’s saying all the wrong things—I can’t love you; I will never be with you; we can’t be together—to do a complete one-eighty.

My mother was right about that.

I don’t understand, and because I don’t understand, fear tries to take hold. Ironic that the fear caused by Thane’s words makes me inch toward him. Seek comfort he won’t give me?.?.?.

Except he does.

The second I move toward him, he gathers me into his arms and pulls me close. It surprises a sound out of me that could be a sob. Instead of setting me away, disgusted by my endlessly messy emotions, Thane pulls me closer. He smooths my hair back and runs his hands over me, almost like he’s trying to calm a wild animal.

Like he’s not sure how to do this any more than I am.

“Thane,” I finally manage. “I don’t?.?.?. I can’t.”

“Do you want to?”

Yes.More than I can say. Which is why I should move right now and get the hell away from this man who makes me feel such conflicting things. Maybe this sex didn’t change things for him, couldn’t change things for him, but I can’t deny the new shakiness that permeates every part of my being. “I can’t,” I say again.

Now is where he’ll call me difficult. He’ll point out that I am fickle and as changeable as the wind, first asking to be held and then all but yelling at him when he offers exactly that. He’ll realize I’m exactly as much of a nightmare to be around as everyone else has found. He’ll leave.

They always leave.

Except he?.?.?. doesn’t.

Thane smooths back my hair again. He doesn’t urge me to look into his eyes. He doesn’t ask me again. He just pulls me closer and murmurs against my temple, “I know. It scares me, too.”

I want to argue. No matter what he thinks he knows, we are not the same. If not for a tragedy, he would still be happily married to the love of his life. He may not be as beloved a leader as his sibling, but he’s respected. Even I could see that during my short time in the keep. And Embry loves the hell out of him. Respect and love, two things I’ve chased and never quite reached; even without his husband, he has both in abundance.

But I am so damned tired. And it feels good to be held like this, as if I am valued and cared for. It’s a lie. It has to be a lie.

I’m just not ready for the cold, hard truth.

Thane must feel me relax, because he exhales slowly in something I can almost convince myself is relief. “May I take you to bed?” A soft question. A request, not a command.

I nod against his chest. Apparently I do have some pride left, because I can’t force myself to say the words, but he doesn’t make me.

He gathers me close, and then we’re moving, easing into the cool embrace of the water. I close my eyes. It’s easier this way. To let him guide. To pretend nothing has changed.

It takes less time than I anticipated before we surface again. I shiver as warm air kisses my wet skin. That’s enough to summon my curiosity, and I lift my head to look around.

We’re in a room I’ve never seen before. Part cavern and part constructed room, it’s a peaceful space. The high rock ceiling overhead has lights strung on lines in a number of directions. There are two decently sized pools tucked into one side and a massive bed that looks more like a nest, its sides curved into almost a bowl shape, on the other side. Several tables are filled with the kind of knickknacks a person collects over their life, trinkets and shells mixed in with what look to be expensive jewels.

“This is your room.”

Thane’s arms tighten around me. “It is.” He turns us toward a small door I hadn’t noticed previously. “The bathroom is through there.”

I take the offered olive branch and nod. “I’ll, uh, go clean up.”

It’s not until I’m in the bathroom with a closed door between me and Thane that I start to shake. I brace my hands on the rock countertop and let my head fall forward. “You are being ridiculous. No reason to be a baby.”

The words sound horrifyingly like my mother’s. I shake my head, hard. “Get your game face on, Cat. You just got your mind blown by a fucking kraken-man, and he’s being nice to you. This is a good thing, not cause for alarm.”

Maybe I’ll believe that tomorrow. Right now, I’m feeling too raw. Ironic that all I want is to go back into the bedroom and cuddle with Thane until I feel better. Being around him is the very thing causing me this anguish, but I crave his presence all the same.

I use the toilet, take a few minutes to shower with fresh water, and then there’s no reason to keep hiding in the bathroom. I check the tattoos Azazel gave me back at the beginning of this. Ramanu said something about magical birth control, and I think it’s linked with the demon-bargain tattoo? I can’t remember the specifics. I make a mental note to ask Thane, but the thought dies when I walk back into the room.

Thane was busy tidying up the already tidy space while I was talking myself off the edge. The strings of lights overhead are illuminated, and I’m delighted to discover they’re a range of soft colors, varying from red to yellow to orange to white. They give the space a warm feel that I like a lot.

He turns as I approach, and though he’s obviously trying to keep his expression locked down, he stares at me as if he’s relieved I didn’t crawl out a window and escape. Which is just ridiculous.

For one, there weren’t any windows.

“Hey.” The second I say it, I feel silly. Thane just fucked my brains out. “Hey”is the best I can do?

“I took the liberty of calling for food.”

I try not to wilt at that. I don’t have anything against fish, but there is a lot of fish in every meal I’ve eaten for weeks. A lady can only take so much. Still, it’s nice that he thought to feed me, so I attempt a smile. “Perfect.”

Thane opens his mouth, and it’s everything I can do not to tense. I’m not ready to have whatever conversation lingers in his inky eyes. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. But he doesn’t ask what I’m worrying about or talk about sleeping together again. He just motions to the short table I missed when I was taking the room in. “Do you play?”

It’s a trap, but it’s a good one. Choosing between a difficult conversation and literally anything else, I’ll choose the latter. But I have a weakness for games. There’s an intimacy that comes from playing with others, and when I once said as much, my girlfriend at the time laughed me out of the room, but I stand by it.

Reason enough to say no, but I approach anyway. “I play a lot of games. I don’t know if I play this one.”

His lips curve into something that’s almost a smile. “I can teach you if you’d like.”

“Okay.” I sink into one of the two chairs available and wait for him to do the same. The curves of the chair that keep me sliding to the middle actually cradle his bottom half nicely. I jerk my gaze away before he can catch me staring, turning my attention to the board.

It’s composed of squares like checkers or chess, but the colors are bit different—navy blue and pale gray. I examine the pieces laid out on my side: the gray. They almost look like chess pieces, but they’re not quite the same. “This looks both familiar and not.”

“According to the bargainers, it’s not far off from your chess.” He explains the rules. It’s so tempting to get lost in the low cadence of his voice, but I force myself to pay attention. He’s right: it’s pretty close to chess. The pieces look different, and the knight’s movements aren’t the same pattern, but most everything else is the same. They have different names than I’m used to, but it’s easier to think of them in the familiar terms.

I ask a few questions about gameplay, but I have it down. “Do you play often?”

“Not anymore.” He waits for me to move one of my pieces and then does the same with one of his pawns. “This set was a gift from Brant. We used to play most nights.” He’s not smiling anymore, but he just looks sad instead of closed off. “He would be irritated that I haven’t played in far too long.”

“Brant, irritated? Surely not. He seems like a saint.” I don’t mean to sound bitter, but it’s as if I have no control over myself. I shake my head. “Sorry, that wasn’t kind.”

“It’s okay.”

We fall into an almost-comfortable silence as we play. I’m not great at chess. I never had the patience to play out a strategy. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have the adaptability to abandon if it started failing. No matter how long it’s been since Thane played, he’s obviously very good at it, because he kicks my ass in less than a half hour.

His hand falls away from his queen, which he just moved to pin my king in place. “Would you?.?.?. like to play again?” The hopefulness in his voice makes my heart give a worrisome lurch.

It’s a lost cause. I already know it. I was going to fall for this man from the moment he set himself in my life like a tower I could never hope to scale. The fact he’s giving me intimacy now is just the last nail in the coffin. “Yes,” I say softly.

He resets the board quickly and motions for me to make the first move. It’s not until I do that he says, “He wasn’t perfect. Brant, I mean.”