Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) E.E. Everly (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖

I couldn’t outrun it.

This urge was the reason I craved physical contact.

Why didn’t I stay in Gorlassar? I plagued myself with this question—would plague myself with this question until the world died, and I with it.

Was I considering Caedryn as a life mate? The thought made my spine prickle. I was beyond reason.

Why was I considering him? Did I want romance?

Don’t be idiotic.

“You’re anxious,” Caedryn said as he entered his bedchamber.

I stopped pacing. “What are we doing?”

“I’m going to bed. You’re pacing.” He disappeared into an adjoining room to change.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m tired—”

He straightened the hem of his shirt as he emerged. “I thought you’d been sleeping rather well. I know I have been.”

I squeezed my fists by my side. Only because of me. “Are you toying with me?”

He paused, ready to grab his comforter. The serious expression in his eyes stroked the base of my neck. “I never toy.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“Another truth you’ve learned about me.”

I clenched the bedpost, wrapping my hands around it, squeezing, imagining I was choking Caedryn for one dismal second. I dropped my hands. “Stop. I can’t deal with you like this. Don’t make a joke out of…” I didn’t know what I was trying to say. Our relationship? Us? My feelings? Was I having feelings?

“We should go to sleep,” he said. “You might say something you regret.”

Touch me, you stupid fool! He was lucky a bed stood between us. “I’d regret? And you’d regret nothing? Why should I go to sleep just to wake with you touching my finger the way you do?”

“Niawen. What do you want?”

He looked as though he didn’t know what I was talking about, but I knew well that he did. “How could you not know?”

“You’re upset because I’m not doing something.”

“You’re not touching me!” That sounded inane.

He blinked. “You want me to touch you?”

I almost jumped across the bed to jab him in the eye.

Never had I begged someone to touch me. Everyone touched me. Strangers at the festival brushed my body so often I would have thought they were assaulting me. Some of them had, thinking I hadn’t noticed. Men always wanted to touch me, and here Caedryn was doing his best to touch only my accursed finger.

“A touch must convey the right sentiment,” he said.

“You’re not letting me in. I can’t read what this pinkie touch means. Please tell me. Open your mind to me so I don’t have to beg.”

“You’re begging?”

“You know I am.”

“Niawen, it’s not a good idea.” His facial expression, the fervor in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrow, the almost indecipherable shake of his head pleaded with me not to make him open up.

I didn’t soften. “You better have a good reason.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He paced on his side of the room, glancing at me and looking away again and again. “You can’t see the flush of your cheeks, the forceful way you hold yourself. The rise of your chest with each inhalation before you fire your words in my direction. The way your sleeve slips back from your delicate wrists as you gesture wildly at me. You carry so much fire, but your eyes are desperate.”

“Do you want to see desperate?” I charged around the end of the bed.

Caedryn backed away and lifted his hand. “Please, Niawen, stay back.”

Frustrated, I bellowed, “I’m sleeping in my own room!”

“Let me explain. You deserve an explanation. I just didn’t want to tell you.”

“We couldn’t carry on like this forever.” Please, free me from purgatory.

“No, we couldn’t. But I thought you’d be patient.”

“I’ve never been patient.”

He smiled. “I know, woman, I know. I was hoping you’d sense I needed your patience.”

He needed me to be patient with him? Oh. Oh. Oh. I’m so foolish. I was pressuring him too much, too fast. “I’m so sorry.” I turned away, ashamed, and rubbed my forehead. Why was I determined to force his hand?

“So how do I phrase this without horrifying you?” He stepped closer. I felt him—his heat, his emotion and waves of his essence.

I urged myself to remain calm as I faced him. “You can’t horrify me. Just say it.”

His eyes raged. I had cracked his control—the stoic, passive indifference he flung at me daily. “Fine! It’s just… I can’t believe you’re forcing the truth out of me!”

What did I do?

His words fell with panicked breaths. “This is a conversation for lovers, for those who’ve spoken for each other. For those who’ve bonded.”

The heat in the room jumped several degrees.

For lovers. I was deep in a dragon’s den filled with flaming hatchlings. Too late. I plowed ahead. “I don’t care. I don’t cower from intimate details.”

“Yes, you aren’t delicate.”

I stared Caedryn down. I forced light into my eyes until I was sure they burned like wicked embers.

Caedryn’s mouth opened slowly after he tore his eyes away from mine. “You’ll abhor me when I tell you.”

“Out with it! You are killing me.”

He only nodded. Once. And then swallowed. “When I express love, it’s more forceful, more impassioned than I intend.” He took a breath. “Bordering on violent.”

His words doused my fire. “What do you mean?”

“Violent passion.” Caedryn kept his eyes on the thick carpet. “You couldn’t understand. No, you haven’t been with a man.” He swiped his brow. “Please, don’t make me tell you more. You shouldn’t hear this.”

I sank onto the end of the bed. My fingers clutched the fabric. “In Gorlassar an emrys is intimate with only the one they’ve bonded to. Who’ve you been with? Who are you bonded to?”

“I’ve bonded to no one.”

“But you must have!”

“I’ve