Page 140 of Claimed

‘Also… yes.’ Her honesty is quiet. It hurts more because she does not wield it like a weapon. ‘But you’ll be allowed counter-arguments later.’

My throat works around words that five centuries should have made easier. ‘Fuck. I am sorry.’

She gasps and the bond between us goes bright with shock.

‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ I say, because I am a coward and arrogance is an old, comfortable shield.

‘I’m trying to decide whether I’m hallucinating from blood loss.’

‘You are not.’

‘Shame. Hallucination-you might be easier to manage.’

My mouth touches her hair before I can stop myself. ‘You were afraid of me. Don’t deny it, little hunter. I know this.’

She does not answer quickly. When she does, the words are steady enough to devastate. ‘Yes. At first.’

My arms tighten, then ease because she is wounded and I will not make another prison out of my body. ‘You were right to be.’

Her head lifts. ‘No.’ Her voice cracks. She swallows and winces. ‘I was right to be afraid of what you could do. That’s different from being right about who you are.’

I look down at her.

The spell has restored more of her face now. The changes are not dramatic enough to erase Eira. They sharpen her into herself. The bones I remember from the girl in the bedroom. The mouth that belongs wholly to the hunter. Lyra’s hidden blood and Eira’s open defiance in one staggering woman.

‘You lied to me,’ I say. ‘Let me hunt you.’

‘I did.’

‘You stood in front of me while I spoke of my mate.’

Her eyes close briefly. ‘I’m ashamed to say that was probably the worst part.’

The simplicity of it cuts through me. ‘Why?’

A laugh trembles out of her and breaks halfway. ‘Because I wanted to hate you for wanting her.’

‘You are her.’

‘I know. And I’m also Eira. I built her… survived as her. But every time you wanted Lyra, I wondered whether Eira was just a distraction. Every time you touched Eira, I wondered whether Lyra would ruin it. There was no version where I didn’t lose something.’

The bond carries her fear with the words. Fear of being claimed by fate, of becoming the cure for a curse. Fear that my desire for the mate would erase the hunter. ‘Listen to me,’ I say.

Her gaze lifts.

‘I wanted Lyra before I understood the cost of wanting anything. I hunted her because the mark demanded, because fate wrote hunger into my blood, and I believed survival required her.’ My hand moves to her cheek, thumb brushing the tear track there. ‘But I wanted Eira against reason and strategy and every vow I made to find the woman who had fled me. I thought wanting you was betrayal. But I craved you anyway.’

Her mouth parts but she does not speak. Words aren’t needed. The bond snaps, vibrates with the force of unsaid words. And I choose to let the truth stand without armour.

‘I fell for you twice,’ I say. ‘Once as a fate I did not yet deserve. Once as a hunter who made this war for survival worth it.’

She makes a small, wounded sound.

I lower my forehead to hers. ‘And I nearly destroyed you, my beautiful hunter, before I understood they were the same woman.’

Her hand lifts slowly to my jaw, her fingers trembling, and I turn into the touch like a starving thing.

‘I ran because you scared me,’ she whispers. ‘Six years ago, you scared me so badly I remade my whole life around escape. Then you found Eira, and you scared me in a completely different way.’