A Dark Heart by Margaret Foxe

words, or deny
how true they were. Nor could she deny how similar they were to the ones Elijah
had once spoken to her after his transformation.
    So this was how it felt to want to die.
    It was awful.
    "I want to be released from our agreement, Rowan," she said
quietly.
    He stared at her sharply. "You can't mean that."
    "I do. I've been thinking about it for some time. Ages, actually.
When the time comes, I don't wish to renew our Bond."
    "Your heart condition will return. You'll die ."
    She nodded. "And I will have lived longer than a hundred years. A
full life."
    She’d never seen Rowan look so furious, even when he’d discovered what
she’d done to Elijah last year. He resembled Brightlingsea at that moment, and
it was enough to make her quake inwardly.
    "My God, my God, you're serious. All because of this ... this
unending thing between you and that broken little boy!” he spat out
venomously. “I should never have pulled him from that damned fire!”
    "I loved that broken little boy!" she cried, pushing back her
shock at his angry outburst. "And I'm in love with him! Have you
not realized that yet?"
    He just stared at her, speechless, his mouth hanging open, as if she’d
managed to punch all of the fury out of him with those few words.
    “Oh, lud. You didn’t realize, did you?” she breathed, shocked now
for a much different reason. Was he really so blind? “How could you not realize
this?”
    Finally, he shook his head and cursed under his breath. "I suppose I
knew. But didn't want to believe it ... Bloody hell, Christiana. What a coil,
what a coil," he murmured.
    She sat down next to him, shoulders slumping wearily. "But he
doesn't love me. He'd rather die than accept a crumb from me. Literally. I just
don't understand. I've never understood."
    “He is not worth this, Christiana,” he said.
    She laughed bitterly. “You must want me to hate you, to say
something so bloody awful to me.”
    “I know what unrequited love feels like,” he said quietly. “I know you
can’t make someone love you. That’s not fair to either person.”
    “I don’t need you to tell me what I already know. And you needn’t worry
that I’ll throw myself at Elijah. I’m through with him as much as I’m through
with you,” she said coldly, standing up once more and gathering her suitcase
and gloves.
    Rowan stood with her, watching her with sad eyes as she walked towards
the door.
    “Christiana,” he finally said, before she could escape him. She stopped
but did not turn around, clutching her suitcase so tight her knuckles ached. “I
don't know if I can explain this in a way you can understand, but I must try. You're
infinitely dear to me. My own family … Well, they didn’t choose me. My
wife and children hated and feared what I became, what I could offer them. But
with you …” He sighed wearily. “Perhaps you were right and I shouldn’t have
done it. You were only seventeen, and I thought … I desperately wanted to think you were capable of making the choice that you made. You’re the daughter
I never had, and the sister I always wanted. Before you came into my life, I
was without hope or purpose. You saved me, as much as I saved you.”
    God.
    She struggled to fight back the sudden glut of tears welling in her eyes.
She didn't want to cry in front of Rowan.
    “What do you expect me to say to that?” she choked out.
    “Nothing,” he said, looking a bit helpless.
    “I’m not going to stay or change my mind because you suddenly decide to
tell me you care.”
    “I know,” he said sadly. “But forgive me one day, will you? I’ll be
waiting.”
    She was glad her back was turned so he couldn’t see the tears that finally
fell from her eyes as she walked out of his life. She just wanted to hold on to
her anger towards him, not feel this onslaught of bittersweet tenderness. And
grief. She had lost a brother last night as surely as if he’d died.
    He would be waiting a long, long time before she’d even think