Page 128 of Bittersweet & Strange

Rhys is going to take me back up that mountain whether I want to go or not, and after everything that has happened today, I don’t have the strength to fight him again.

Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.

There’s nothing I can do to stop him.

I stand abruptly and push past him, needing space before I say something I can’t take back. I’m devastated, exhausted, and probably not thinking clearly anymore, but when I shake my head, the decision belongs entirely to me.

Rhys ignores it and straightens. “We’ll stay here for the night and let Étoile rest in Mara’s stable. First thing in the morning, we’ll return home.”

Home.

I walk toward Dad’s chair and run my fingers over the blanket draped across the back, tracing the worn fabric he wrapped around himself on cold mornings when he drank his tea and criticized my cooking.

“I’m not going,” I say quietly.

Rhys doesn’t even bother responding, and his silence makes my anger burn hotter. He doesn’t think this is a conversation. As far as he’s concerned, my compliance is mandatory. Whatever I want ceased to matter the moment he decided we were leaving.

I turn toward him with one hand still gripping the back of Dad’s chair. “Rhys…”

Something in his expression changes.

“You came and got me,” he says sharply.

My mouth closes. I can’t dispute that.

“You rode all the way back up that mountain and came to me because you needed me, Boone. You asked for my help, climbed onto my horse, and brought me back here knowing exactly what I am and exactly how I feel about you.” His voice rises as he closes the distance between us. “You had to know that if you came back to me, I would never give you up again. And after tonight, why the hell would you even consider staying here?”

His gaze sweeps contemptuously around the cottage before returning to me. “Quite frankly, I can’t understand why you were so desperate to return in the first place.”

I suck in a furious breath.

“It’s home,” I snap. “Something you know nothing about.”

The instant the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve gone too far.

Rhys crosses the room before I can move, both hands closing around my arms as he yanks me toward him hard enough that my chest collides with his. I have to tilt my head all the way back to meet his gaze. Whatever exhaustion I saw in him moments ago has disappeared, replaced by something furious and absolute.

“If I have to tie you to my saddle and carry you back up that mountain kicking and screaming, so be it.” His fingers bite into my arms. “You can spend the rest of your life locked in your room for all I care, but you are coming back with me.”

Terror wipes away every trace of anger.

I freeze in his hands and stare at him, searching his face for some indication that he doesn’t mean it. That grief and exhaustion have made him cruel and he’ll take the words back once he realizes what he’s said.

He doesn’t.

He would absolutely do it.

After everything that happened today, after watching Lucien bind me to a saddle and drag me away when I screamed for him, Rhys would put me on another horse against my will and take me somewhere I don’t want to go.

“You wouldn’t,” I choke out.

His expression gives me my answer. Something inside me gives way.

I can’t do it again. I can’t beg someone else to let me choose what happens to me. I can’t survive another set of hands holding me when I’m trying to get away. I especially can’t do it with my father’s blood still drying under my fingernails and his empty chair sitting close enough to touch.

A sob tears out of me before I can swallow it. Whatever anger remains disappears under the grief that comes crashing back twice as hard. I bury my face against Rhys’s shoulder because, impossibly, horribly, he is still the person I reach for when everything hurts too much to bear alone.

And I sob.