“What happened to you?” Tink asked quietly.
I met his gaze, words rising to the tip of my tongue. I could tell him, but I didn’t want to dump this on him. And I wasn’t sure what I could even say. My head was a mess of thoughts, and that darkness in me was everywhere, infiltrating my every cell. I felt cold. “A lot,” I said.
“You aren’t . . .” He lowered his chin, and I knew what he was going to say. I wasn’t the same. I wasn’t. “I know . . . how the fae can be. I know they can be cruel.” His eyes closed, and I tensed. “I know what they are capable of, but I know . . . I know you are strong. You will be okay.”
The breath I took got stuck in my throat, and I suddenly wanted to climb out of my skin and become someone else. But that wasn’t possible. Even if I could have, I never got the chance. A knock on the door woke Dixon, and Tink rose, walking to answer it.
I held my breath, hoping that it was who I thought it was but praying that it wasn’t at the same time. But it was. It was Ren. He looked like he’d showered and changed. The gray Henley he wore hugged the lean lines of his body, and the sweats hung low on his hips. He was barefoot.
Ren’s gaze swung right to the bed. He stopped just inside the door, not moving, and he didn’t look away.
“I’m sleepy,” Tink announced suddenly. He rose before I could say a word, then scooped up the sleeping kitten. He leaned over, kissing my cheek. “See you in the morning.”
Tink was surprisingly quiet as he exited the room, not saying anything to Ren as he closed the door behind him. There was no doubt in my mind that he was a bit worried about my mental state, not that I could blame him.
I was a bit worried myself.
Sitting up against the stack of pillows, I clenched the comforter as Ren approached the bed, his steps slowing.
He sat down on the edge, and those eyes, so green and so warm, so human, met mine. I had to ask myself once again how I could have ever mistaken the prince for him. The eyes had been the same color, but that was it. When I’d seen him in that horrible place, his face had been battered. Now, there was no sign of those bruises or cuts, but he was haunted. I saw it in his eyes.
It struck me then that this was the first time Ren and I were together, both of us in a stable and safe environment, no one tied up or chained, since I’d told him I loved him and that I was the halfling.
So many things had happened since then.
Too many things.
And neither of us was the same.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ren exhaled slowly as his gaze roamed over my face. I had no idea what I looked like, and it was only then that I realized I was still in the robe that was now covered with tiny, gray cat hairs. My jaw ached, and I knew it was probably bruised, and my hair was a wet, curly mess.
“Your eye,” he said quietly. I didn’t get what he was saying at first. “It looks like a vessel burst in your left eye.”
“Oh.” I blinked, having no idea that had happened. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He tilted his head to the side and then his gaze flicked to my neck. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. There was a damn accident on US 11, and it slowed us down.”
“It’s not your fault.” I crossed my arms, staring at the paisley design on the bedspread. “And you did get there in time. You stopped him.”
“It’s my fault.”
My gaze lifted, and I found him staring at me. “What?” I said.
“All of this.” He gestured with his arm. “It’s my fault. I handled things wrong. I got caught up in my head and wasn’t paying attention. Walked right into a damn trap. And because of me, that bastard was able to get his hands on you.”
The tightening around my chest increased. I couldn’t believe he was blaming himself. “Ren, you can’t hold yourself responsible for any of this.”
“Yeah, I can. I left you that night when you told me what you were. My head was fucked up. I should’ve known better than to go after the fae when I did. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind, and I got myself captured.”
I looked away, drawing in a shallow breath. “Then isn’t it really my fault? I blindsided you, and I didn’t even tell you about the prince. I . . . I kept that from you. If I had warned you about him being around, you would have been better prepared.”
“I didn’t give you a chance to tell me about him,” he said, and paused. “I wish you hadn’t waited to tell me. I get why you did—why you felt you couldn’t. I’m a member of the Elite—was a member, anyway.”
“Was?” I whispered.
“Not officially an ex member, but I’ve been MIA for weeks. That’s not going to go over well with those in charge.”