The Spirit Walker (BOOK ONE): The Ripple

Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Rare Apology

I pause at the bottom of the stairs, my fingers wrapped in a death grip around the banister, hesitating. The pull is there- stronger than it has ever been before. I can feel Calum in the dining room, even though I cannot yet see him. The scent of pepper and pine is thick and heavy in the air- so potent I can almost taste it.

I swallow hard, and somehow find the courage to step forward and follow that pull.

"I am not comfortable with that, Ness," Calum's voice rumbles, and a pleasant shiver runs down my spine at the sound. It makes me think of the way he sounded when he groaned my name, when he...

I push the thoughts out of my mind, my blood thrumming.

"Look, Calum, I know it's not ideal, but..."

I am the last to arrive to breakfast, so every eye is on me as I step over the threshold. Ness falls silent and both she and Arran tense in their chairs, their gazes riveted to Calum, ready to tackle him to the ground if he loses control.

He barely even looks at me.

His eyes skate over me, full of heat and fire, and then immediately dart away. He takes a bite of his breakfast roll, but says nothing. Not even a greeting. The tension bleeds out of Ness and Arran's shoulders, but my heart is in my throat as I find my habitual seat across from Calum.

The awkwardness at the table is so thick it could be cut with one of the little silver butter knives laid out by my plaid-rimmed plate.

No one speaks. My presence seems to set everyone at the table on edge- no one quite knowing what to say. All of the polite pleasantries people would normally resort to are off the table- everyone knows exactly how Calum and I slept. The ramifications of what we have done are too serious for even the people of Dhaoine-Tir to joke or tease about.

My stomach churns with nausea, but I butter a biscuit to find something to do with my hands and shrink into myself, ashamed and humiliated by my weakness last night. I take a bite, and it scrapes down my dry throat and sits like a brick in my stomach.

"Here is the itinerary, so far," Arran finally breaks the silence, and slides a piece of paper across the table to Calum.

The same table Calum had once so casually talked about fucking me on.

Vivid images of last night rise up in my mind- my legs wrapped around his head, his fingertips rolling my nipple, his talented tongue moving against me, his thick fingers inside me. I imagine him sweeping the table free of biscuits and serving ware and teacups, making breakfast of me instead.

I grab for my water and gulp it down, trying and failing to push the vision from my mind.

Calum's eyes cut to me, but he no longer looks amused by my arousal, as he once did.

He looks furious.

Suddenly, I recall the monster he became last night when Arran peeled him off of me, and I realize he could break me in half with very little effort if he ever wanted to.

Right now, it really, truly looks like he wants to.

I shrink back from his rage, my shoulders curling protectively around my chest, the sudden trembling of my hands making the ice clink against the sides of my glass.

Calum pushes back from the table so abruptly his chair clatters to the floor behind him. I flinch, and Elder Diyani rests her hand against my knee reassuringly.

I think I might throw up.

Calum turns to Ness, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticks, the cords of muscle in his neck standing out.