The Weaver's Source

Chapter 78

I woke with a start, my heart low and my eyes stinging with tears. Cold loneliness filled me, mixing with the hot anger that I had been left alone. Abandoned. Starved. I knew why. Grigore had told me clearly he intended to leave me. To find his brother alone, to let himself fade away. He never wanted to live with me beside him.

"Grigore?" I called out, my voice rough from sleep and pain. I didn't expect him to respond. He wasn't there. He'd gone, left me.

But then I felt myself being pulled by strong arms, gathered up against something warm and solid. I blinked madly, confused as I gazed at Grigore's face, the roughness and scars, the stubble shadowing his jaw, his dark eyes roaming over me and his thumb stroking my cheek, his naked body warm against mine.

"You're not meant to be here. Why are you here?" I stammered, my heart torn between elation and aching pain as I softly felt his face, letting my fingers drift down his throat and press against his firm bare chest. "You left me."

"I've not left you and I've no intention to." Grigore said firmly, his features stern.

"But you left me. You did. I was in the dark and I called for you but you weren't there." I stammered, my voice cracking between anger and pain, tears welling.

"I haven't left your side, Lyra." He repeated, his tone rougher.

"You did. You will. You told me you're going to leave me behind. You did leave me behind." I babbled, my anger beginning to burn in my foggy mind. Why was he lying to me?

"Lyra, calm down. Breathe." Grigore instructed, his accent thick. "You're caught up with Daryl's emotions. Detach yourself."

"You told me you were going to leave me." I said sharply through my thickening tears, my mind floundering, unable to listen and understand what I was feeling. "You told me you wanted to go after him alone. You don't want me. You left me."

"Lyra." He growled, his eyes flashing.

I tried to push him away, not caring that it was like pushing at rock, unmoving. He wasn't here. I was abandoned, left in the dark, shackled and starved.

"You left me for Sorin! To die. Because you don't want me." I said sharply, closing my eyes, my mind a mess of pain and anger, my body recalling the darkness and curling stomach, the terrible loneliness. "Because I can't give you anything. I can't make you want to live."

I gasped when his mouth locked with mine roughly, his kiss deep and demanding. I tried to wriggle away, the anger not my own burning hotly, but he wouldn't let me go, his fingers keeping my face still, his song heavy and his taste sweet. My magic responded to him, warming me and heightening my sensitivity to him, making me quietly melt beneath him and stop my resisting swiftly. I became compliant, my mouth matching his urgency, soft moans escaping me as desire began to burn.

Grigore parted the kiss briefly, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I'm not leaving you."

I stared at him, my breath quick and heart fluttering, my head still not quite my own. "You told me you wanted to."

"Yes, I was clinging to something foolish; old pacts and fear."

"Fear?"

"Lyra, I told you before, all I've known is a life beside Sorin and hunting. Then Sorin turned on me and fled and the idea of hunting alone for another century didn't appeal to me at all." He kissed me again, deep and quick, tasting the magic on my tongue. "And then I found you, a woman who got into my head like no other, who fretted over my wellbeing, who grew flustered at the smallest interaction with me, who wanted to protect me." He paused, gazing at me deeply. "I feel guilt, Lyra, for wanting to keep you beside me, for not thinking about my final hunt for weeks. It's like I'm betraying my brother, replacing him. That's why I wanted to leave you behind, I just hid behind the idea that it was best for you."