“And you took my words at their very worst without allowing me the chance to finish. What I meant is that I will never be able accept the thought of losing you.” He kept his mouth close while he spoke, warming my skin with his breath. “My every instinct is to protect you, yet one day I might be expected to stand by and let you die. The idea terrifies me beyond reason, and if that makes me a coward, then so be it. I love you too much to feel differently or to make peace with that part of your gift. In that alone, I meant we could never reconcile our differences. Nothing else.”
His words should have calmed my raging emotions. Instead, they clamped like a fist around my already aching heart. Henry loved me—so much, in fact, that he would never be able to fully accept my gift. In an attempt to remove the trees from our path, Henry had exposed the rest of the forest. And the mountain on the other side. Clear as day, the future stared back, unblinking and devoid of hope.
A fresh sob shook me. “You’re going to leave me.” Just like Julian’s father left his mother.
Henry started in surprise, then pulled me closer as though fearing I would try to escape again. “Where did you get such a foolish notion?” He traced a kiss along my tear stained cheek. “I’d sooner cut out my own heart.”
“Maybe not today, or even in a few years, but you’ll leave eventually, when my gift proves too great a burden.”
“How can you say that?” His voice vibrated with pain and disbelief. “Do you think my feelings so insincere?”
“No—”
“Then what?”
The truth danced before me, smirking in triumph. “You think I’m unnatural, and can’t accept what it means to be leath’dhia.” The words spilled out as new tears wet my cheeks.
“I see,” he said softly. Then cupping my chin, he turned my face until our eyes met. “What if I swore upon my soul to never leave you? Would that quell these doubts?”
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head despite his hold.
Grief marred his beautiful face. “You are quick to condemn me. I pledge my innermost love, and you cry ‘inadequate.’ I swear to never leave, and you cry ‘impossible.’” His voice cracked with emotion. “Fear does not qualify as proof, Selah, nor does it give you any more power than me to foresee the future.”
I drew breath to protest.
“Tell me this,” he said, cutting me off. “What if one of the gentlemen had accepted my challenge to duel tonight? Would you be pleased with my decision?”
I bristled from the suggestion. “Of course not. You promised not to participate in such a barbaric display of male bravado.”
“Not so,” Henry said, his voice once again level. “I pledged not to duel without profound cause, and the insults you bore tonight were cause enough in my mind.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! A few mean words could never justify your death.”
The fire cracked, sending a shower of sparks into the air. I jumped slightly, but Henry held my gaze firm. “I respectfully disagree with your assessment of just cause,” he said.
I clamped my cheeks tight to keep from screaming. Henry wanted to discuss dueling while our once-bright future burned out quicker than the fire. “What does it matter? So you have some bad habits. I’ve no doubt your stupid honor would survive if you didn’t insist on waving a sword at every offense. My duty as Brigid’s descendant is not negotiable. It cannot be ignored regardless of your love or my desire to live. Don’t you understand, Henry? You may think now that you can live with the uncertainty, but it will drive us apart when you can no longer accept that my duty must always come first.”
“But what of dueling?” he persisted. “I’ve dueled in the past and may have cause to duel again in the future.”
“That’s different. You just like to fight. I can’t change what I am.”
“Any more than I can,” Henry countered. “Do not assume that my stupid honor is any less precious than your duty to heal. It is the very core of a gentleman and at times the only thing that separates men from savages. Like it or not, dueling, on rare occasion, is a part of keeping that honor intact. It is a part of me, and something you will never be able to change without jeopardizing the man I am.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “And hopefully, the man you still love.”
“You know I love you. That will never change.”
“Can you be at peace with dueling?”
“Heavens, no!”
He raised a tawny brow. “Then by your own admission, you can love me without fully accepting every part of my character. Is that correct?”
“I guess so, but Henry—”
“But nothing, Selah! If you are capable of unconditional love, then I claim the same privilege—to love you deeply and indelibly regardless of duty.” His hand dropped from my chin, and I stared at him, confused.
Henry sat motionless. Tension webbed his face, rippled just beneath the surface of his skin. While waiting for my reply, his body spoke a more visceral language. One hand gripped my waist while the other rested possessively on the flat of my stomach.
Could Julian have been mistaken? Perhaps the tragedy between his parents was not indicative of all marriages between humans and goddess born. I knew without doubt that Henry loved me, regardless of our argument the other night. So why had I been so sure that Julian was right? Why had I decided to believe him over Henry tonight?
A new truth began to edge its way forward. Is it possible?