Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(51)

I nod and sniff, pretending I don’t have tears on my cheeks. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. It’s so dumb. And it never does any good, anyway.

“Grand, then we’ll meet back—”

“Can you just answer one question?” I interrupt. “Why was I in your bed?”

Confusion fills his features.

“I saw you with that pixie, Niamh,” I say, slowly, unsure as a look of realization appears on his face. “I know why you had to be with her, to fix your burns from the fire and everything. So, were you and I in the bed together, because . . . I mean, was that some sort of kinky healing thing you did to me?”

He steps back, and revulsion scrunches his features. “Feck, no!”

I blink at his biting tone. He’s definitely disgusted at the idea, grossed out at the thought of me in his bed for anything other than sleep.

My throat clenches again, and all I can do is whisper, “Oh good.”

“I would never link with you to that level without your permission,” he says. “Hibernation is a private and mutual process. Things can occur that you aren’t fully aware of. I wasn’t pleased with Aelia putting me under with the pixie without my consent. I wouldn’t do something like that to you. To anyone.” He pauses and seems to consider before adding, “There was a moment, though, in the wood, when . . . I believe I almost . . . well, I nearly kissed you, I think.”

His confession jars through me, and I rack my brain, trying to find the memory. Trying to figure out how we could have gotten into a situation where this beast of a guy would ever in a million years kiss me.

I come up empty.

“I wasn’t fully in control,” he says. “But you needed the energy. And in the moment of a feeding . . . magnetism, attraction, can sometimes happen.” He quickly adds, “But it’s not real, it’s temporary.”

“I see,” I say, even though I don’t. He fed himself to me and that’s how I healed. I took life from him. It kills me that I can do something so monumental, so bizarre, and have no memory of any of it.

“And the fact that I’m weaker than you,” he continues, “while you’re ignorant about how to control your subconscious . . . It was bound to happen eventually between us.”

“Wait.” I roll his words over. “What was bound to happen?”

“A feeding, a moment where your control slipped. The transition eventually requires that the Emergent feeds off the trainer as they learn. Sometimes that can become volatile when only one party is . . . practiced in the process. And, like I said, you’re likely stronger than me.”

His casual tone seems a bit forced. Obviously, he’s not a fan of some of the requirements of his task with me.

I decide to try and get him to lay more cards on the table, since he’s suddenly being honest. “It seems to bother you,” I say, “that we almost kissed.” It bothers me too, but mostly because I don’t remember.

He waits for a second before responding. “Control is important to me.”

I have no idea what to take from that. I suppose it’s why he didn’t want to do this, train me—the possibility of losing control. But I need to figure myself out, to know what I am and what it means. It doesn’t matter how he feels about me, or if we almost kissed. And an almost kiss means nothing. Especially one that I have no memory of.

“Why don’t you go get dressed,” he says. “Be back in an hour, and I’ll show you the books I have, and you can ask me whatever you wish. But we need to start the training. Sound good?”

I can tell he wants me to be agreeable, but I’m still not sure I can go along with all of this. It’s tough to settle with myself that I need to stay in this madness and fake it, like I’m perfectly fine with what’s happening. How can I, especially after last night? A guy tried to kill me. He overwhelmed me and trapped me and . . . I was completely useless. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. Or pissed at myself.

I swallow the pain in my throat and ask, “What is this training, exactly?”

Faelan’s at his closet, slipping a shirt over his head, his movement tense. He takes a second, like he’s thinking about how to answer. “Things will be different with you,” he says finally. “Traditionally, we’d start with focusing techniques, but we’re short on time, and your power seems to be overwhelming you, even overwhelming the torque.” He motions to my necklace. “We need to skip kindergarten and move right into you learning control. Like I said, control is important. Even more so for you.”

I nod absently, not sure how to absorb everything. “Okay, I’ll get dressed.” But then I remember. “Except I have no clothes.”

“Aelia filled your closet earlier. Your wardrobe is more than overstuffed now.”

I have a full closet. I’m not sure I’ve even had a closet of my own before, let alone a full one. “Wow, okay. I wonder what she put in it.” Probably the same stuff that was in her own. Ugh.

Faelan looks confused. “She put clothes.”

“As long as there’s yoga pants,” I say.

“Those are the stretchy things, right? That’s unlikely.”

“Well. Then I quit,” I say, dryly.

He blinks but then surprises me with a smile, a small dimple appearing in his upper left cheek.