A Storm of Flames and Deceit

29. Shackled

Nephele

I hardly have a moment to think about the betrayal twisting in my gut before Eris follows after me, hastily buttoning himself into a pair of pants. "Neph, wait," he grabs for my wrist. "Please. Please don't go." His voice is nearly broken on the please, the plea so unfamiliar with him.

I don't know how he could tell I was about to winnow away- probably this bond that exists between us. I'm not sure where I even meant to go... probably to see Cress like I always do when I feel trapped and need to go somewhere.

Anywhere.

"Why not?" I challenge, taking my wrist back. "I shouldn't have to stay here and take you lying to me anymore."

"I'm not lying," he insists, raking his fingers through his hair. "I don't have a gentle bone in my body, Neph. I don't want to hurt you."

I scoff openly, a tear of frustration slipping down my cheek. "And here I expected flower petals and vanilla scented candles for my first time," I roll my eyes. "Eris, I've had wet dreams where you run a knife down my body as foreplay. What makes you think I want you to be gentle?"

He blinks, mouth dropping open the slightest bit. "A knife?"

I groan. "That's not even the point," I cross my arms. "The point is that you are lying to me. Tell me what's so wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," he retorts instantly, appalled at the very suggestion.

A disbelieving laugh tumbles from me. "Yeah?" I challenge, another tear slipping down my cheek. "Here I am, practically begging you to fuck me, your wife- your mate for fuck's sake- and you won't do it. Even though I'm telling you that it's what I want, you insist that it isn't," I taunt incredulously. "So what is so wrong with me?"

"You think I don't want you?" He gapes, blinking dumbly.

"Tell me what I'm meant to think," I demand. "It's like you're scared you'll get sick of me. Scared I won't be enough for you."

I didn't know his face could express such shock, like his lips were repelled from each other and forced into gaping at me. "You truly think that?" He repeats, and I have to look away, jumping out of my skin when he reaches to brush my tears away with his thumb. "Nephele, you are everything to me."

I glance up at him as he holds my cheek so gently I could shatter, waking every contradiction between his words and his actions. "And the truth is..." he hesitates, his first instinct never being honesty. I want to be mad at him for it, but how can I be? It was his upbringing that brought him to hide away behind his carefully crafted walls. "I can't forget."

I blink, not understanding. "Forget what?"

He adverts his eyes, chewing on his lip cautiously. "The night of our wedding," he replies quietly. "The consummation."

"The consummation?"

He nods, sweeping away a curl that clings to my face. "The look on your face when I...," he shivers, looking half sick. "When you thought I was going to..." He can't even speak it.

I had no idea it affected him so much. I had hardly thought about that night after it happened. "The fear in your eyes when you looked at me," he shakes his head uncomfortably, as if a thousand beetles were crawling across his skin, burrowing into every pore in his walls. "I don't think I could handle ever bringing that look into your eyes again. I-"

He hesitates, looking back at me slowly, as if mortified with the admission. With the vulnerability of speaking it. I blink up at him, my tears at a halt. "You don't want me to be afraid of you," I transcribe from the words he could give me, the horror on his face.

He settles, nodding as his thumb continues to brush across my skin, like my touch were medicinal. Nearly everyone who knew Eris was afraid of him, I realize then. Even his mother and brother had admitted their fear of his grey bits, the part of him that will do anything for his court, the people he loves.

"Eris, I could never be afraid of you," I murmur, laying my hand over his. "Sure, I may have feared the mask you dawned in that mere moment months ago, but I never feared you- the true you. The you that you've tried to lock away and hide, but that I've always seen. The light. The dark. The grey. I see it all, Eris, just as you see all of me."

I smile up at him, even as a tear falls from my eye, a different source to this emotion. "You can't scare me off, Eris," I murmur, flushing beneath his touch. "I'm not afraid of what it means to love you."

He looks puzzled, approaching whatever solution lies between us as he peers into his own head. He looks like I had just spoken to him in a language he didn't realize anyone else spoke, some frequency that resonated deep within him perhaps.

"You run away when you feel trapped," he whispers, stepping closer. "And I... I couldn't blame your for that. It survival of the fittest at this point with what you've been through," he hesitates, trying to articulate what he feels. What I feel. "I guess I just didn't want to... crowd you, do too much too fast."

I soften a bit. It's something that I hadn't even noticed about myself, that tendency to run before I can feel trapped, run from my feelings, my responsibility, the truth. Hell, only moments ago I had intended to run from here, if only for a few hours... just to avoid. But he could see it so vividly, convinced that he had run me off. "A room with just you and me is never crowded," I reply. "I could be trapped in that damn cellar for damn centuries longer, but if you were with me, I could never feel shackled."

He looks briefly frazzled by it, those words holding an even greater weight then I love you somehow as he brushes my hair back from my face, intention in his eyes. "You mean that?" He murmurs. I nod quietly, unable to speak, swallowing as I gaze up at his lips as he lowers his mouth onto mine.

His lips are sweet, soft as an apology, whispering without sound. He holds me by the waist, not to push me further than the kiss, only to be close to me. I slip onto my toes, pressing my body against his as I throw my arms around his neck.

He pulls back quietly, only a breath away as he gazes into my eyes. "I'm sorry, Nephele," he mutters, stroking my hair, as he kisses my brow. "I love you. I'm sorry."

I smile, shutting my eyes, feeling tranquility lazily pour over my body like honey. "I love you too," I whisper, twirling my fingers in his damp hair.

"Let me make it up to you," he murmurs, wiping what dried tears linger on my cheeks away. "Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night."

I raise a brow up at him, a broken giggle. "But you hate going out..."

He shudders dramatically. "I do," he agrees, kissing my nose. "But you love it, and I love you."

I snort quietly, shaking my head. "Okay."

"Good," he smiles, tipping my chin up to face him. "So about this knife wet dream..."

I narrow my eyes up at him, scoffing as I shove him away, trying not to laugh.