“I'm okay,” I said.
“But you shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t brush this off like it doesn't matter, Ara. He is ten times bigger than you, and he—”
“I've got bigger things to worry about right now, Jase.” I rolled away, pulling the blanket up over my shoulder. “Just let it go.”
He swept my hair back, pressing his lips firmly to the side of my head. “I love you, Ara. I won't let this go. But we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Jase?”
“Shh.” He tucked me in a little tighter. “Just sleep.”
“No.” I rolled over and shoved the blanket back. “Let it go. Mike didn't mean to do that. He’s…I mean…look what I put him through. This was just the final straw, okay. He clearly can't take anymore of…well, me.”
He sighed and turned away, lowering his head to his hands. “I understand that, Ara, probably better than you might think, but he’s not just your friend anymore; he's head of security. No matter what you do or have done, he should have more self-control than to have slapped you.”
“It was a little tap.” I smirked.
He turned his head to look out from behind his hands. “You’re kidding me, right?”
I shook my head. “Jase. Go to bed. You look tired.”
He sighed. “I am tired.”
“Did you sleep at all last night?”
He stiffened a little. “What would make you think I hadn't slept?”
“You know already, Jase, you can read my mind.” I reached across and touched his arm. “How long have you been having those night terrors?”
His eyes narrowed and he studied me carefully. “You…so you did see that dream?”
I nodded.
He sunk back, exhaling.
“Are they always that bad—the dreams?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Ara, please don't—just…don't say you’re sorry. I'm sorry. I'm the one who—”
“No.” I grabbed his hand and tucked it against my locket. “All of that’s in the past. I know what you did for me. I know it was to protect me, Jase, I forgave you a very, very long time ago.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't. It hurts me for you to feel such deep regret. You’re punishing yourself for something you had no control over.”
He drew his hand away from mine. “I just…”
“Jase. It’s. In. The. Past,” I said slowly to make it clear as a bell. “Stop dreaming about it.”
“To do that, I’d have to stop sleeping.”
I rolled my eyes. “How ‘bout you come visit me in our sleep again instead. We’ll make some nice dreams for you.”
“I'm not sure it’s really appropriate for us to be alone like that, Ara.”
“I know. But I can't have you reliving that torture every night. I won't. Not to mention, if I'm slipping into your dreams somehow, I don't really want to be seeing that every time I close my eyes, either.”
He kind of laughed, looking boyish and sweet. “Okay. No more nightmares then.”
“Good,” I said in a business-like tone. “Now, I have question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“The mind-links?”
“Mm?”
“Did…” I tried not to smile. “Did you visit me—in our dreams—while you were supposedly dead?”
His smile grew. “Maybe. Once or twice.”
“I knew it.” I slapped my covers then looked back at him. “So…the yellow dress.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I…figured I owed you a new dress—since I ruined the blue one.”
“Ha! I can't believe you just said that.”
He shrugged timidly.
“And, what about the memories? Did you leave mind-blocks in place, or were you actually in those dreams with me, showing me all those things yourself?”
“Many of those were memories—things we did before…” His voice trailed off. “I never placed mind-blocks. I erased those things, but only enough to hide them from a human mind. As you grew stronger, your brain lifted the sheet.”
“Sheet? But you said you erased them.”
“Nothing can ever truly be erased from a mind. It’s like a hard drive—unless you have some pretty high-tech equipment, there’s always an imprint left behind.”
“Right. So, all those things you showed me about your childhood—”
“You asked. I answered.”
I nodded. “Did you want me to hate David?”
He laughed. “It’d be nice if you did. But, no. I did and do want you to know what he’s like, though.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked at my cheek and wiped his thumb over it. “You have such a forgiving heart that, well, now I'm sure you’d forgive David if he struck you in anger—and his strike would not be a tiny slap.”
“You only say that because you think I'm going to let Mike get away with it.”
“No, I say that because my brother can seem to do no wrong. I’ve seen him raise his voice at you, and you only blame yourself—tell yourself not to push him. Ara, that’s a recipe for a submissive nineteen-fifties abused housewife. I just don't want to see you crying on a kitchen floor, punished because the Pavlova sunk, and, sweet girl, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“You don't think very highly of him, do you?”
“I love my brother. I do. But I know him—inside and out, and he’s old fashioned. He doesn't see anything wrong with disciplining his wife. It’s not a personality fault; it’s a time corruption.”
“He’d never hit me, Jase.”
He softened, stroking his thumb gently down my cheek again. “Neither would Mike.”
I pushed his hand away. “And David would never even do that much.”“I hope not. And I hope, if he ever does, you would come to me—you would see it as an error on his part, and not just think yourself the problem.”
“I wouldn’t. Okay? I know it might seem like I let him get away with being all controlling and forceful, but if he ever did anything to me that I didn't like, I’d leave. I have a no-strike policy with men, Jase. If he hits me, even once, he’s gone, because that’s not love.”
“I hit you.”
My heart sunk. “Jase. Don't. Okay? Just stop feeling guilty. Look—” I sighed. “Okay, you hit me, you’re a bastard. I hate you.” I grinned.
He rocked his jaw, swiping his thumb across a tear on his cheek. “You were just so small and precious. Every strike felt as if you’d snap, shatter, like porcelain. I—” He cleared his throat, his voice breaking. “I hit as softly as I possibly could, but I—”
I placed my hand over his, bringing him back from the world he’d slipped away to. “Don't go there anymore. Just, when you think about it, go to a place where we were happy, instead.”
He flipped his hand over under mine and wound our fingers together. “Only if I can take you there with me.”
I nodded, tightening my hold. “I will go anywhere, do anything to make you okay again. It kills me that you’re stuck in that torture without me, Jase. I'm okay. I'm here. I'm alive, and I…” I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn't let myself say it. Not ever. “I care about you. A lot. So, please, just…just don’t go back there anymore. Move on. Leave it behind where it belongs—in the past.”
“See—” He moved forward and sat closer, tucking my hair behind my ear. “This is why I love you. Look how easily you can heal my heart. See how effortless it is for you to take my terrors away.” He shook his head looking down at his hand. “I just…I don't know where I’d be if I’d not found you.”
I laughed. “What do you mean?”
He looked up from our hands. “No one has ever cared so much before—to want to take my pain away and see that I dream of things that don't leave scars when I wake.”
I stroked his dimple with my thumb. “I'm sorry you never found a girl who would see you the way I do.”
His hand tightened even more on mine. “But I did find one.”
I smiled softly at him, attempting to hide the sympathy. “Yes, but, I want you to have love—like David and I do. I want you to find your eternal person.”
He chuckled. “Eternal person?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I found her. I'm just waiting for her to realise we were made for each other, then I get my happy ending.”
I pulled my hand free. “That won't happen.”
“I know.” He cupped his hands in his lap, nodding. “But eternity is a very long time. I can hope that, one day, you’ll feel the way I do.”
“If you really do care for me, then you won't think like that. Because, for all the confusion I have in my heart, I only want David.”
His head bounced in a kind of nod—to himself, I think. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. Then I hope you never love me. I hope you and David live eternally happy lives together.”
“Liar.”
We both laughed.
“I'm trying, Ara. I do want what's best for you. And if that's my brother, then, in my heart, he's who I want you to be with.”
“Then you should stop touching me like your girlfriend. If he saw that, he’d be really pissed.”
“Yeah, I know.” He moved his hands off my body. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?” He sat back on the chair beside my bed.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn't you demand I give your ring back?”
I frowned. “I didn't know that was an option.”
“Ara, you never sit by and let things happen if you don't approve. If you wanted that ring, you’d have stomped your foot until I gave it to you. So, why didn't you?”
I stared at him for a second. “You're reading into it too much.”
“Am I?” With a boyish grin, he reached for my hand, pressed my wedding band into my palm and folded my fingers around it. “Or are you just not telling me what you really think?”
I rolled over again, slipping the ring back in place. “Go away, Jason. You don't know anything about me.”
“Oh, don't know anything about you, huh?” He pulled the blanket away, his voice light with humour. “I know your ticklish spot.”
“No!” I squealed, jerking around as he dug his fingers into my ribs. “Stop!”
He laughed, his voice deep and gentle, while his strong fingers forced my body to thrash about in a very unladylike manner, wriggling and screaming. But he seemed so young and so human when he played this way that I really didn't want him to stop—and he knew that, so he didn't.
“See?” Breathless, a little puffed-out, he pinned both my hands beside my face and leaned right down. “I know more about you than anyone else in this world, Ara-Rose. And I know you didn’t ask me for that ring because you liked the fact that I had it. You liked knowing how it made me feel to carry it—as if I owned a part of you my brother never would.”
“What part?”
“The truth.”
I stiffened; he smiled, and his eyes slowly travelled from my face to where his legs rested between mine, Arthur’s button-down shirt rising up to reveal I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
He released my hands and pulled the shirt to cover me. “What happened down there tonight, Ara?”
“Where?”
“In the training hall. Why were you down there—practically naked?”
I swallowed, and the pictures of everything that happened flashed across my thoughts before I could stop them.
He swept my hair off my brow, frowning. “Whoa. Ara, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“What?” I looked up, half panicked.
“That’s what you were doing down there tonight? Arthur? Really?”
“I…” I blinked a few extra times. “You saw that?”
“Sweet girl, I saw everything.” He backed off me a little, resting on his knees, his hand on my open leg. “So that's what the dagger’s for—that’s what David wants it for?”
“And that’s why he hasn't been coming to see me.” I grabbed my locket. “He can't bear it. He’s wanted to tell me so badly, but he knows I’ll fight him on it. He’s planning to just disappear.”
Jason moved forward quickly, dropping his hands beside my shoulders, and looked down into my eyes, an intense stare swallowing all the animation from his face. “No.”
“No, what?”
He bit his lip, shaking his head. “No. I won't let this happen.”
“What?”
“I'm not letting you do this to yourself.” He reached down and started undoing my buttons. “I won't see you suffer my uncle’s touch then hate yourself for the rest of eternity.”
“I have to.” I cupped my hand over his. “I can't lose David.”
“But you can lose me,” he said, and rolled the shirt off my shoulder, opening my bare skin to the night.
“Jase—” My hand slowly came up to rest along his face. “If you father the heir, you’ll be going to your death.”