Not now, maybe. But she did. She should. “Loathe? Or detest? Ohhh,despise.” Funny word, that.Despise. “That’s a good one. Youdespiseme.”
“And you think that’s a good thing?” she breathed.
Having this woman despise me was the best thing that ever could have happened. “If you didn’t hate me so much, I would’ve seduced you that very first night and never gotten the chance to know you.”
Her lips tugged down into a frown. “You don’t know me.”
Didn’t know her. Was she serious? I may not know everything, but I knew what mattered. “I know you love your sister and would do anything to get her back. I know you didn’t care for your husband. I know you hate mourning dresses and like hydrangeas.” That day at the market, she’d touched them differently. Her eyes had glazed over just a bit, and her smile had changed. I’d bet my castle they were her favorite. “I know you don’t complain, even when you’re in pain.” Her heels had been hurting during our trek to the faeries, and not once did she whine or ask me to heal her. “I know you whimper when you find release.” The sound. Just thinking about it made me hard. “And sigh just before you fall asleep.” I’d heard her. The night we’d snuck into the inn. The day she’d fallen asleep on my shoulder. I’d felt it against my neck in the shifted cottage. “I know you are stubborn, but not too stubborn to admit when you are wrong. You fear the dark. You loved Padraig like a father. You are a wasp when you’re hungry and can’t handle your stout for shit.”
I could go on and on. But I wouldn’t because there was no feckin’ point.
“Most importantly,” I said, taking her hand in mine, allowing her warmth to seep beneath the surface, “I know that you are the type of woman others are willing to die for—myself included.”
She stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I had. Hopefully, I’d find it in the morning.
“Right.” Reluctantly, I let her go. “Wake me if the murderous witch shows up.” If I was to die, I’d love a good night’s sleep first.
I curled onto my side and closed my eyes. Who knew a floor could be so comfortable? Sure, it was cold and hard. But it was also close toher.
“Tadhg?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why did Fiadh curse you?”
I didn’t want to tell her. But when you were saying goodbye, you told the truth. “I told women I loved them so they’d come to bed with me.” Left them in the middle of the night or early the next morning to avoid the inevitable tears, never to see them again. “And one of them happened to be a hateful witch who doesn’t know the meaning of forgiveness. She ripped away my magic, leaving only a pittance, and cursed me to be used by women the way I had used her. And then she took my lies and cursed my lips so that I could never escape.
“I deserved all of it.” Every single curse. “I have done terrible things, things that would make you hate me more than you already do. But I am not the man I was.” I’d changed in the last two hundred and fifty years. I was still far from good, but I wasn’t the man I used to be. “I don’t want to be a catalyst for death. I don’t want to be used and cast aside like I am nothing. I have served my time, and now I want to be free.” Unfortunately, what I wanted didn’t factor into what I received.
“Here.” She gave me the ring and told me I deserved to be free.
For the lives I’d stolen, I deserved to be right where I was. Still, I appreciated the gesture, even if it couldn’t save me. “It doesn’t work. I tried, but I couldn’t lie. Or say no.”
There was no sense keeping the thing when it was of no use, so I gave it back. “It was my mother’s, you know. She enchanted it to keep me safe from curses.” If only I had cared enough to keep it on my finger that day.
“Was your mother a witch?”
My mother wasn’t just a witch, she was a feckin’ saint. “She was called Bronah. She married my father Midir when they found out she was pregnant.” They never should’ve wed. My father claimed to love my mother, and yet he was never faithful. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her and he feckin’ knew it. “My father was never the same after she passed and didn’t know what to do with me.” I remembered him looking at me as if I was some sort of foreign being. Thank heavens for my governess and our cook Eava. Without them, there’s no telling what would’ve happened to me. “He had more interest in women than raising a child. Luckily, I had this ring to keep me out of harm’s way. Fiadh knew about the ring and must’ve tailored the curses to bypass the spell. She asked for it that day, said she wanted to see how it looked on her finger. I hadn’t cared . . . about the ring. About Fiadh. About anyone but myself, really.”
Keelynn stared down at the green stone. I liked that when I was gone, she would have a piece of me, of my history, with her. Although she probably wouldn’t wear the thing after her curse wore off. Maybe one day she’d look at it and think of me and our time together with some semblance of fondness.
“I love you,” she whispered, pressing kisses to my hair, my ears, my cheeks.
Although I knew she was only able to speak those words aloud because she wore my ring, my heart still constricted. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I want to.” Her lips grazed my cheek. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t—” The lie left my head feeling as if it would shatter. I couldn’t say I didn’t want to be with her because I did. More than life. “I’m too drunk to be of any use to you.” To be anything but a disappointment. At this stage, and with her looking like that, I wouldn’t last pissing time.
“I don’t want to use you.”
Then what did she want? I was good for nothing else, especially in this state.
“Come here.” She helped me to my feet and brought me to the bed. “Take off your shirt.”
Shirt off. I could do that.