I blinked. For a long moment, I couldn’t formulate words.
I watched him lean over the fold-out table, his long fingers pushing his coffee mug around lightly while he looked down at it, his lips turned in a frown. Seeing the distance in his gaze, my eyes took in the rest of him, maybe for the first time in months.
He looked different even from what little I remembered from our time together outside the Forbidden City. His arms and chest were more muscular than I remembered, his body thicker but lean-hipped. His face looked lean, too, his cheekbones higher than usual. He wore a white collared shirt, open at the neck, something I used to see on him a lot back when I first knew him, but not as much in the past few years.
Something about the white shirt and his tanned skin made his crystal-colored eyes stand out even more in his face.
Remembering that kiss on the deck, I fought a heavy flutter somewhere in my lower belly. I forced it back before it could bloom into anything more––much less turn back into the intensity of pain it wanted to become.
It still hurt enough that I winced, biting my lip without looking away from his face.
When he hadn’t spoken a few seconds later, I rose to my feet.
I felt him stiffen, a pulse of nerves expanding off his light when I walked around the table to where he sat. Hesitating a bare breath, I laid my hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t move away, or react at all really, I slid that hand past his neck and to his chest, inside the open shirt.
His skin tensed and shivered as I touched him, like my fingers carried an electric shock. He held his breath, staring down at his coffee mug, but when I started massaging him slowly, he caught hold of my hand, pulling it off him.
He looked up at me, pain in his eyes, his breath jerking in his chest.
“Gaos, Alyson… can we talk first? Please?”
I looked down at his face, unsure if he wanted me to move away.
He hadn’t let go of my hand, and now he was looking at me in the clingy top and the combat pants. For a moment he only stared. Then his arm wrapped around my good leg and thigh, pulling me closer to him.
When he looked up that time, the pain in his face and eyes were on the surface. So much so, pain rippled through my own light, closing my eyes when he met my gaze. When I opened them again, he was still watching my face.
“I want to make a new agreement,” he said, his voice gruff, as if he were still halfway holding his breath. “Can we do that? Can we talk about it?”
I looked down at him, frowning a little.
Cautiously, when he didn’t release my thigh, or loosen his hold on me, I reached out, fingering his long hair out of his face.
I noticed again how long it was. I’d never seen it so long. Thick and black, it nearly touched his shoulders, pushed behind his ear on one side.
Truthfully, it was sexy as fuck.
His eyes closed, right before a cloud of pain left his light.
He gripped my hand tighter before looking up at me.
“Allie.” Pausing, he searched my eyes. “Can we talk? Please. I won’t be able to do this on my own… and I really think we should talk first.”
Realizing he’d asked me that more than once, I felt another stab of pain.
Was I trying to seduce him to avoid talking to him?
Seconds later, I dismissed the idea. It didn’t feel that complicated, honestly. Truthfully, it didn’t feel complicated at all. My light was practically screaming for me to touch him, to wind into his. This wasn’t avoidance. It was an utter lack of willpower.
Biting my lip, I nodded.
When he didn’t let go of me even then, I gripped his hand tighter and stepped back, so he was forced to release my thigh. I stepped back a second time, coaxing him to follow me without speaking, tugging on his hand.
He got up from the chair.
Still gripping his hand, I walked us over to his bed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I patted the spot next to me, gauging his expression.
I watched his eyes travel over the bed, his jaw firming.
I could almost feel his thoughts, although I didn’t hear them in so many words. He was wondering how good of an idea it was, for us to talk here, on a bed. He was wondering how good of an idea it was, given how much pain both of us were in, how much we’d been touching one another already. He was wondering if he’d say no, or even try to talk to me, if I started touching him again.
He’d felt a little more solid with a table between us.
“Do you want to go back to the table?” I said. “We can, if that’s better.”
After another pause, he frowned, still not meeting my gaze.
Then he shook his head.
Still holding my hand, he walked over to the side of the mattress I’d indicated. He sat down, over a foot further from me than where I’d originally patted.
He didn’t let go of my hand.
I watched him place my hand in his lap, still holding it in both of his. I watched him focus down on my fingers, right before he began massaging the base of them, then my palm.
I bit my lip, fighting not to point out that he wasn’t making this easy, either.
I was about to say something, to try and break the silence, when he did.
“Are you going to tell me about the mark?” he said, his voice neutral. “On your thigh? It didn’t look like it was from an injury. It looked like a brand.”
For a few beats, I didn’t know what he meant.
I just sat there, halfway in a trance from his fingers, which continued to massage my hand.
Then I remembered.
“Oh.” I exhaled, watching him massage my hand. “Yeah. Dragon. Dragon did that in Denver. I forgot.”
Glancing up briefly, Revik hesitated, studying my eyes. Then, seeming to change his mind, he simply nodded. I saw pain touch his expression as he focused back on my hand.
“Your father said the reason we haven’t bonded fully isn’t all about our light.” His voice came out low that time, gruff. He gave one of his eloquent shrugs. “He said it’s not all about me being Syrimne… or you coming into yourself as the Bridge… or because our lights changed over the course of our marriage at all.”
He glanced up, his colorless eyes cautious.
“He said Kali didn’t know what she was when they met,” he explained. “He said their lights changed a lot. His too. He said this is part of mating with an Elaerian.”
He was studying my eyes carefully again when he added,
“They didn’t have any of the problems we’ve had, Allie. It didn’t prevent them from bonding fully. They never had to re-bond. Not even when her visions started. Not even when they were fighting about you. Their bond never wavered.”
Looking down, he paused, as if thinking, his narrow mouth a frown.
“He seems to think the changes in our light might have complicated things.” Still staring down at my hand, still massaging my palm and now my wrist, he shrugged, human-fashion. “Indirectly, yes. As we gained more memories of who we were, it made the disconnect worse, but he said it wasn’t the cause.”
I was watching his face again, maybe even more closely than he watched mine. He didn’t return my gaze, but continued to stare down at my hand in his lap. His light and fingers continued working patiently over the skin, muscle and bone.
I cleared my throat.
“Then what is the cause?” I said. “Why haven’t we bonded fully?”
Revik didn’t answer for a few seconds.
We were close enough now, I could almost feel him trying to find ways to soften his words. It didn’t help that he was still massaging my hand, which was distracting as hell.
He glanced up, meeting my gaze cautiously.
Studying my eyes, he sent me a denser pulse of warmth.
“He says we haven’t been honest enough with each other,” he said, his voice frank. “He said we hide too much from one another. That we keep secrets. That we haven’t, in his words, ‘cut the shit.’” Studying my eyes for
a reaction, he continued to massage my hand. “He says we don’t trust one another enough, Allie.”
Biting my lip as I returned his gaze, I nodded.
When the silence stretched, he looked back down to my hand, kneading the muscle and skin with precise fingers.
“I suspect it’s my fault,” he said. “Initially, I mean.”
Pausing, he shrugged.
“The rank difference between us intimidated me,” he admitted. “I was afraid if you knew too much about me, you would come to your senses and realize you could have anyone you wanted. I didn’t know who or what I was, but that’s no excuse, really. I didn’t trust you enough to realize you didn’t care about any of that.”
Waiting another beat, he frowned down at my hands.
“There were other things, too. Things I couldn’t tell you––”
I grunted, feeling a flush of annoyance that time.
When he gave me a questioning look, I pursed my lips, making my voice sarcastic.
“Things my mother and father made you vow not to tell me, you mean?” I said. “Things Vash ordered you not to tell me? Things the Council ordered you not to tell me? Those kinds of things?” Frowning, I shook my head. “I think you’re taking a little too much of the blame for this, Revik.”
After another pause where he studied my eyes, he nodded.
“I pointed that out to Uye––”
“Good,” I grunted.
“––and he agreed,” Revik added, talking over my anger. “He was also right to point out that I made these things worse, Allie.”
When I looked over, he met my gaze.
“There are things I still haven’t told you,” he said. “Even now. Even from as far back as when I was watching you in San Francisco. There are things I haven’t told you about my past.” Pausing, he added, “You said yourself that I was constantly surprising you with things from my past. You said you felt blindsided when I didn’t tell you things… that I kept things from you that you would have wanted to know. Things you sometimes found out from other people.”
Looking at him, seeing the caution in his eyes, I fought to relax.
I couldn’t really though, and not only because of what he was doing to my hand.
As stupid as it was, I guess I’d told myself on some level things would go back to normal now. I’d halfway convinced myself we could go back to how things were before this nightmare with Dragon, with Revik being in China, with me and Jem.
I knew how insanely unrealistic that was––and not only because I was pregnant.
Yet somehow, the magical thinking remained, however unconscious.
When he didn’t speak for a few seconds more, I turned over his words.
I felt my jaw firm once I had.
“You mean about Jaden,” I said, when he still hadn’t spoken.
Revik looked up, his crystal-like eyes sharper. “Jaden?”
I stared at him, frustrated, even as a part of me wanted to touch him, even now. “I’m not completely stupid, Revik. I know something happened with you and Jaden. Something you’ve never told me.”
Revik opened his mouth, as if about to speak.
Then he didn’t, nodding instead.
“Yes,” he said. “Something happened with Jaden. Something I haven’t told you.”
I grunted. “No shit.”
Pain whispered through my light as I looked at him.
Suddenly I was fighting tears, and a frustration so intense I couldn’t think through it at first. We were talking about Jaden. I was pregnant with another man’s child, and we couldn’t even be honest with one another about Jaden, a relationship I was so completely over I could barely remember what it felt like to be in it.
He hadn’t even mentioned Jem yet.
We hadn’t even come close to any of the hard conversations we had to have yet.
I had no idea if he even knew what Dragon had done to me in those caves.
Looking at him, feeling my emotions tilt my head into a place I wasn’t sure I was ready to go, it hit me that I was afraid. I’d been afraid for my marriage before, but looking at Revik now, I felt like I had in the tank with him that day, the last time he told me he wanted a divorce.
Revik’s eyes jerked up.
“I don’t want a divorce, Alyson.”
He gripped my hand tighter in both of his, squeezing my fingers until I looked at him.
Meeting my gaze, he shook his head, once, adamant.
“I don’t want a divorce,” he repeated. “That’s the last thing I want, Allie. That’s the last thing this is about. It’s the opposite for me.”
“You know I’m pregnant,” I blurted. “I know you know. They told me Jem told you. They told me you were both shouting about it.”
There was a silence.
Then Revik nodded. “Yes.”
“Is that what this is about?” I bit my lip, hearing that fear reach my voice. “Is that what you talked to Uye about? You don’t think you can live with that?”
He shook his head, slow. “No, Allie. It’s not about that. I want to talk about that, too. I just wasn’t sure if we should start there.” Pausing, he looked up, once more studying my eyes, his own preternaturally still. “After talking to Uye, I wondered if we needed to start further back. I wondered if we needed to start from the beginning.”
I frowned, more confused than reassured.
The beginning? The beginning of what?
Our first lies to one another?
Realizing my emotions were a lot more volatile than they should be, especially with how calm Revik was being, it hit me that the pregnancy was likely throwing me off balance, horomone-wise. Not only that, I couldn’t read him very well. Unlike when I’d been pregnant with Lily, my blindness extended to Revik this time, too, at least when it came to his lower light, the part I interacted with on the ground.
Realizing that blindness was making me insecure with him––more insecure, anyway––I fought to think, to calm my light.
“You miss Jem,” he said simply.
When I looked up, my jaw hard, he waved me off gently with his fingers.
“That’s not an accusation, Allie. It’s a fact. Your light has been using Jem’s to compensate for the pregnancy. Now, with me here and Jem gone, your light’s confused. You’re confused. You can’t read me, and you don’t have Jem here to help you, so it’s making you distrust me on some level. It’s normal. This is normal when you are pregnant… do not feel badly about this.”
Swallowing, he reached up, fingering my hair cautiously out of my face.
“What do you want?” His voice turned gruff. “Do you want me to take you to Jem? Do you want to talk with him here first?”
Tears came to my eyes. I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “No, I don’t want that.”
He gripped my hand, flooding my chest, my belly with warmth.
“Allie, it’s all right. I expected this. I expected it, okay? I really meant it when I said it wasn’t an accusation.” He went back to massaging my hand in both of his. “Uye seemed to think this would be temporary, if we were able to talk, to open to one another again. He seemed to think this role would transfer to me, if that’s what you wanted.”
My pain worsened, blinding me.
Something about him qualifying everything he was saying, him asking me if I wanted Jem here, him not assuming I wanted him to be the one I shared the pregnancy with, made me want to hit him. I knew he was trying to do everything right. I could feel him trying… making an effort to give me space, to not assume.
I wanted to hit him anyway, for even asking me the question.
I couldn’t make myself speak, though. I couldn’t say anything.
Revik might have felt that, too. He fell silent, his fingers still working patiently over mine.
Tears continued to run down my face. Guilt nearly overcame me when I realized I could feel what he was talking about. I could feel the part of my light calling out for Jem, wanting Jem there. I
hated myself for it.
Revik slid closer to me.
Before I could look up, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me up against his chest. I felt my muscles tense, but I wanted him to hold me. Hell, I wanted to hit him, too, but I wanted him to hold me. That feeling in my chest worsened, the self-doubt, everything I’d tried to do and be over the past few months flashing behind my eyes.
Dragon in those caves. Jem when he told me he was confused.
Even in those moments, I never forgot what I was doing, how I got there.
The longer I thought about it, the more that dense feeling in my chest worsened.
How was it Revik could do this to me still? No one else could.
Jem couldn’t. Even at my most confused with Jem, I never felt like this.
Even when things were at their worst while Revik was gone, I’d done my job.
I’d done all of it without him––for months––yet this base terror around losing him never seemed to lessen. Since I’d known him, some part of me had been terrified he’d leave me if I said or did the wrong thing––
“I’m not going anywhere, Allie.” Revik gripped me tighter, pulling me deeper into his chest and side. “Allie, I’m not going anywhere. We need to start there. We both need to start there. It’s why I want us to make a new agreement.”
His voice dropped lower, until it was nearly a murmur.
“Allie, I swear to the gods I’m not going anywhere. It never crossed my mind to walk away. I was terrified you might do that to me. I never once thought about doing it to you. I think we need to acknowledge this fear as part of the problem between us.”
Pausing, he made his voice quieter still.
“I think this fear is from our not having completed the bond. It’s from that lack of trust Uye was talking about. It’s why I want us to find some way to start over with all of this. I hoped we could make an agreement… to lay out everything, so it’s crystal clear to both of us what we want. I think it will be easier to trust one another if we see all of it. No more filters. None of our fears changing the story or omitting things we need to see to understand one another. I want us to see all of it through each other’s eyes, so there’s no mistaking it for something it’s not.”
Thinking about his words, I nodded slowly.
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