I sat down and dug straight in, smiling as he watched me eat every mouthful. “I didn’t mean to, you know.” At his raised brow, I explained, a little embarrassed, “The weight loss. I just…” I shook my head, unsure if now was the right time to delve into it all. There would never be a good time, I surmised, so I sipped some water and confessed, “I wasn’t well.”

“You were ill?”

I peered up at him beneath my lashes. “Not well in here.” I tapped over my heart, then my head. “And here, I suppose.”

Scythe lowered his giant mound of stew-soaked bread, nodding once. “I had wondered if it was something like that.”

I ate another mouthful, then said, “I’m not proud of it, but I couldn’t…” He waited while I searched for the words. “My life, everything I’ve ever known, was totally obliterated. I had to learn how to make sense of what it’s become.”

He seemed to know I wasn’t merely referring to him—that he was only a small yet ginormous part of it. “I couldn’t escape it,” I said softly. “What he’d done and the repercussions. But I was expected to accept it. To move on and live with it.”

“You don’t have to accept anything you don’t wish to now,” he said, vehement and too still as he watched me. “You never have to again, Aster.”

I nodded. “I wish that were true, and I desperately want it to be.” Scythe scowled, and I attempted to ease his alarm. “I want to stay,” I reassured him. “I do, but it won’t be easy.”

“So be it,” he stated instantly. “For I’m not letting you go.”

Cracks within my heart re-stitched, but my stomach tightened. I gave my attention to my meal.

After a minute, Scythe did, too.

We ate in silence. Lost to the fear and the need to tell him everything, it grew harder to even look at him. But I didn’t need to look to know he never once removed his eye from me.

Knowing there was so much more trapped within me, Scythe said, “If it troubles you, it can wait, Aster. I’m not going anywhere.” He rose from the table. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

I watched him, unable to comprehend how I’d found a male so domineering yet so patient at the same time. But I understood. My wolf had demons of his own, just as Olivianna had warned in this very cottage. I wanted to learn them. I wanted to know every facet that made him who he was, and to let his darkness touch my own.

But I wouldn’t force it—force him.