“What about the sun?” she asked. “You said our sun has some power, right?”
“Yes. A small trace.”
“Can you try again when the sun comes up? Maybe it will be enough to make a difference.”
Adreeahbenwah was right. He did feel more power under her sun. The device had nearly worked. Perhaps even a trickle of magic would be enough to allow the rift to complete. “You may be right. We will try again in the morning. I will force my way through the rift if there is any chance I may fit.”
“What happens if you don’t fit?”
He considered lying to her, but tossed the notion away as a betrayal. “I could fail utterly and I would be forced to stay here. Or I may be killed.”
She bolted to her feet, a look of fear and outrage painting her sweet face. “Killed? You never said anything about this being dangerous.”
“There is danger in all things, Adreeahbenwah. The danger of staying here, losing my family and letting my sister’s killer go free is worth the risk of my life.”
She bowed her head and turned from him. Even without seeing her face, he could feel a deep sadness radiating out from her. It shivered through her spine and shook her narrow shoulders.
Toren went to her. He ached to see her smile again—to know she was happy. He had caused her pain, and while he was unsure of how he had done it, he wanted to punish himself for the error.
He gently turned her around to find liquid trembling in her eyes.
“Tell me what I did to injure you. I do not understand.”
“You act like it’s no big deal to risk your life. Well, I happen to think it’s a pretty f**king big deal. How will I even know if you made it home safely? It’s not like you can just pick up the phone or send an email telling me you’re okay.”
She was worried for him. She would not have been worried for him if she cared nothing for him. This sadness—these tears—were proof of her feelings for him. And while he hated her suffering, a small, fluttering joy began to take flight within him.
Toren cradled her face in his hands. “I will be safe. You and I are connected enough now that you will know this to be true.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I touched your thoughts. I connected myself to you in both mind and body. Part of me dwells within you, just as part of you is now within me. You will know if I die. You will not have to question my safety.”
“Oh, great,” she said, though her tone belied the words. “So now I get to be connected to a man I will never see again? Isn’t it bad enough that you made me care about you? Do you have to make things worse by doing some magical mojo that will keep me from moving on with my life?”
Toren had not thought of it that way. “I have done nothing to you, Adreeahbenwah. Our connection simply happened.”
“Well, however it happened, you can make it unhappen, right?”
He shook his head. “I am sorry. That is power beyond my ability, even if I were at full strength on my own home world.” Perhaps his mother was strong enough, but she was utterly out of reach and unable to help.
Adreeahbenwah stared up at him, a mixture of anger and grief shining in her eyes. “I don’t want to feel this way about you.”
“What way?” he asked before he could stop the question from flowing out of his mouth. It was selfish of him to push her, to demand more from her, but he had to hear the words. He had to know if he was floundering alone in this sea of emotion.
“Like I’m missing something when you’re not by my side. I went shopping for three hours and missed you the whole time. I’m not needy, Toren. I don’t like being made to feel that way. Especially if it’s artificial.”
“Not that, love. Nothing between us has been false. Had we been in my world, I would have been able to control the pace. We would never have progressed past a point that we did not both want.”
“But we’re not on your world. We’re on mine. And my life is already a huge mess. My job consumes most of my time, and while I’m good at it, it’s not what I want as the center of my universe. I never date. I’m afraid to even look at a man for fear of losing him the way I did William.”
“Is that the man you lost—the one for whom you still grieve?”
She nodded, her throat working as she struggled to find her voice. “My husband. He died. I don’t want to love another man the way I did him. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Any man would be fortunate to accept whatever love you are willing to give.” Toren would take even the smallest sliver and consider himself lucky.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” she snapped. “I don’t want just any man. I want you, but like William, you’re leaving, too.”
The grief in her voice left him aching for her. He shared her desire to remain at her side, but that was not part of his future. Family, duty and justice all had to come before his own personal feelings. The people he loved would not survive without such discipline.
Toren wanted to hold her close and offer what little comfort he could, but she shoved away from him and stood. Her fists were balled, her chest rising and falling too fast. “Don’t touch me. The more you do, the worse it will be.”
He could not leave her like this—not while she was angry and upset. “Please. Let me hold you, ease you.”
“No.” Tears hovered in her eyes. “There’s nothing you can do.”
She wasn’t thinking clearly. Grief seethed within her, so palpable Toren could feel it even at a distance. The thought of adding to that grief by leaving tore him apart and left him shredded.
But he could not stay. His duty had to come before the grief of one single human woman—no matter how much that woman meant to him. If he stayed, he would forget his obligations and be happy, but he would do so at the expense of his parents and siblings. A vile killer would roam free to strike at the heart of another family, to lie and unjustly punish others for his own crimes.
That was something Toren could not allow.
His presence here was upsetting her. He could not yet leave, but he could not stay here and make her suffering worse. It was better to go out into the wilderness surrounding this place and cut his ties to her now. Before he no longer could.
Chapter Seven
Toren had been gone for hours. The cabin seemed empty without him. Or maybe it was just Adria that felt empty.
She paced the braided rug in front of the fireplace, struggling to find some sense of calm. He’d said he’d be safe. He’d said that he could protect himself against any wild animals that might happen by. His world was a dangerous place, and it was his job to ensure the safety of its inhabitants. The way he’d said it told her that he knew his way around a dangerous situation—not that there was all that much out there to be afraid of.
She’d given him her favorite comforter from home to keep him warm. He didn’t seem concerned about the cold, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him out there alone, shivering.
A chilly rain began to fall, and Adria’s fears gathered until they sat frigid and hard like ice in her stomach. It was well past midnight, but she couldn’t sleep. Agitation grated along her insides, chafing her raw.
What if he forgot again? What if he wandered off and got lost? Would he even remember to come back here? Would he remember that he needed to go home? What if he simply fell and hit his head?
What if he died?
The thought sent her into a flurry of motion. She could no longer hang around here and torture herself. She had to know he was okay. Whatever connection they had was not nearly enough to reassure her that he was safe.
She hadn’t thought to bring a raincoat, and an umbrella would get tangled once she was in the trees, so she slit a trash bag open and draped it over her head and shoulders.
The solid weight of her flashlight brought her comfort, its trusty beam cutting through the darkness with ease.
Thunder growled in the distance. Wet branches slapped against her cheeks. She waited for a break in the rumblings before calling out Toren’s name.
She didn’t go far into the trees. She wasn’t that stupid. She kept the lights of the cabin or the lake in sight as she made a large circle around the area.
Her voice was growing rough from the strain of yelling. Despite the plastic bag, she was soaked from her feet to her thighs. Her face was nearly numb from the cold, and her hands were frozen into claws around the bag and the flashlight.
“Toren!” she yelled again, her voice losing its strength.
“Adreeahbenwah?” His deep, questioning tone cut through the thunder, sounding as sweet as church bells.
She turned and saw him crouched under the low limbs of an evergreen. His eyes glowed pale blue within the shadows. He rose with slow, powerful grace, moving toward her.
Relief swept through her, making her spine feel limp. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t even injured. He was safe and whole.
She didn’t know how she was going to stand the fear of not knowing his fate once he left. If a few hours of not knowing made her feel like she was being torn apart, she would never survive the rest of her life not knowing if he was safe and happy—even if she did know he was alive.
He leaned over her, his hair stretching out to shield her from the blowing rain. “You should not be out here.”
“Neither should you. I was worried.”
“I told you I would be fine.”
“What if you forget again?”
“I will not. I have been concentrating as you instructed. A string of constant reminders flow through my thoughts so I will not lose hold of it. Elina’s memory burns bright within me.”
Until now. She’d interrupted him all because she was too selfish to sit around and wonder if he was okay. What if he lost hold of his concentration because she was needy enough to force herself back into his presence?
The wet chill sank into her bones. A shiver gripped her body, shaking it hard before it let go.
His brow creased, but in this light she couldn’t tell if it was anger or concern. “You are cold.”
“I’m okay. I’ll go back in and warm up by the fire.” She wanted to ask him to come with her, but he’d made his decision to go the rest of the way alone. She cared enough about him to respect that, no matter how much it hurt to walk away.
Adria cupped his face, soaking in the sight of him. “Good night. Stay safe. Remember Elina.”
She turned slowly, giving him every chance to stop her. He didn’t. He stood silently behind her, letting her go.
Walking away from him was a harsh punishment for her selfishness. Every step was harder than the last. She trudged through the mud, her shoes squishing with chilly water. Her clammy jeans clung to her legs, dragging against her chafed skin. Her fingers ached around the flashlight.
She didn’t dare turn around and look back, even after she was well out of sight. If she did, she worried she’d rush back like some lovesick schoolgirl and beg him to stay.
Toren was leaving. For good. The same way William had left. Now was as good a time as any to get used to being alone again.
She would leave before dawn and make sure she didn’t have to face him again. No more good-byes. With one last peek over her shoulder, and with only the empty crater looking back at her, Adria slipped back into the cabin.