Chapter 93
I rush into the restroom, slamming the door behind me, fighting back the tears that blur my vision. My breath comes in sharp bursts, my chest tight and constricted, like I’m being squeezed from the inside. How could he? How could he keep doing this?
The door swings open, and I whirl around. It’s Wake, of course. Of course he followed me.
"You can’t be in here!" I snap, my voice raw and sharp. The anger surges, barely restrained, bubbling up beneath the surface.
Wake, unfazed, steps further into the small space. "You’re angry," he states, as if I need a reminder. His voice is calm, controlled, and it only fuels my frustration more.
I whirl on him, my body trembling. "Of course, I’m angry! And I’m hurt, Wake." My voice cracks on the last word, and the tears threaten to spill over again. “You keep telling me you trust me, that I’m your mate, but you’re still holding back.”
"I’ve told you what I am able to," he says, as if that’s supposed to comfort me.
“No, you’ve told me what I’ve clawed out of you,” I counter, my hands gesturing wildly. “You’re a grown man who claims I’m supposed to mean something to you—you can tell me whatever you want if you actually wanted to! You’re the one choosing to keep these ridiculous rules even though it’s my life that’s in danger.”
Wake’s jaw tightens. “Your life is in no more danger than mine has been for the last twenty years since the gods placed you in my path; everything that has happened to you needed to happen.”
The words make my blood boil. “Why?” I shout, my voice bouncing off the tiled walls. “So I can keep being used by your people when I’ve got no say because I don’t know what the hell is going on?” I feel the helplessness clawing at me, threatening to pull me under. "You say you want me to help, but how can I when I don’t even know what we’re up against?"
Wake’s eyes flash with frustration, matching mine. “This is why I told you we need to find your grandmother. She can give you more of the answers you need.”
I scoff, throwing my hands in the air. “And how long is that going to take? And how much can she really know when she hasn't been part of your society in over a hundred fucking years? Looking for her is an incredible risk, and it’s one we wouldn’t need to take if you would just trust me.”
“This isn’t about trust,” Wake says, his voice low, but there’s an edge to it. I can see the strain in the way his shoulders tense, the tightness in his jaw.
“It is, Wake, whether you want to acknowledge it or not,” I argue, the words coming out faster, harder. “And I don’t know how to prove to you that I am worthy of your trust more than I already have.”
Wake’s face contorts, the frustration there mixed with something more desperate. “Phoebe,” he says, his voice dropping, quieter now, like he’s pleading with me. “I cannot tell you what you want to know.”
There’s something in the way he says it—something that cuts through the indignity I feel and finally takes hold.
“You…” I start, my voice softer, more tentative now. “You can’t tell me. As in… you’re unable to tell me. Physically unable.”
His eyes close briefly, and he exhales slowly, a heavy sound that feels like a confirmation. When he opens his eyes again, the pain is there, buried deep but unmistakable.
“Delphinium said she’d made vows that she couldn’t break when she told me to ask you about the clans,” I say, piecing it together. “Was she being literal? Do your people take unbreakable oaths?”
Wake nods. “We do. To speak out of turn is to cause pain. To break an oath is to die. We are only permitted to speak freely to clan members. Some things, we can only speak of to relatives. Only Heirs have the power to overturn an unspeakable oath. As I have said, I am not one yet, and you don't have the knowledge yet to do so.”
I stand there, rehearing every harsh word I'd spat over the last ten minutes, my anger melting into something else—understanding, maybe. Definitely a good dose of shame. The frustration doesn’t leave me entirely, but the sharpness of it dulls as I realize I’ve been pushing him, expecting things he literally cannot give me.
“I’m so sorry I jumped to the worst conclusion, Wake,” I whisper, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “I think I sometimes find it hard to believe that you have faith in me, but my insecurities are no excuse to fly off the handle.”
Wake steps closer, his large hands gently cupping my face, pulling me toward him. His touch is warm, grounding. His eyes, when they meet mine, are full of sincerity, of something deeper than words can convey.
“If they were mine to tell,” he says, his voice low and reverent. “You would know the secrets of this universe and every one beyond. I trust you with my life, Phoebe.”
I stare into his eyes, his words stealing my breath. There’s no hesitation there, no wavering. He’s telling me the truth, and it hits me with a force I wasn’t prepared for.
Without thinking, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. The kiss is fierce, born of passion and understanding, the raw emotion of the moment surging between us. His hands slide from my face to my waist, pulling me in closer, and I melt into him, losing myself in the heat of his embrace.
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