90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 31

Butcher's back stiffens. He turns to me slowly. My feet itch to run before our eyes clash. I hold my ground only because I'm hesitant to barge off into the snow empty-handed. I pray he'll be generous with the provisions we've gathered. If not, I don't know where I'll find food in this snow laden desert.

"West?" he smiles. Something selfish flares in his gaze. I take a tentative step back. "You're deserting me?"

"I'm going my own way. That's all."

The smile dissipates and a scorching fire flares in his rippling form. It's clear now, the unwillingness to let me go. I should have just run and hoped he didn't catch me. Selfish desire builds into his aura and I realize with agony that the death soldier hasn't retreated. He reaches for me. I stumble back, so fast I barely escape falling over my feet.

Butcher still secures hold of my upper arm.

"I'm sorry." When his eyes fill with regret it almost seems as if he means it. "But I can't let you go."

"What? I'm a prisoner! You would make me your prisoner?"

"If you think of it that way!" he snaps back.

"What you did to me...? Everything! And I—! Last night, did it mean nothing? I forgave you! You must let me go, if only for that! A life for forgiveness!"

I didn't forgive him, but he couldn't know.

"That's why I can't," he growls, boring his eyes into my soul. "I can't let the first with a heart deep enough to forgive me to just, disappear. You don't understand, you are the first who hasn't hated me. I want to—"

"So I must be your prisoner then? Because you can't deal with yourself—you, who made yourself! How selfish! How utterly selfish—how despicable!"

He smiles again. It's a smile I know all too well. The kind you make when everything is screaming inside.

"I'm a selfish man, Princess."

I shudder. He touches my cheek, staring past my face to whatever lies beyond my back. Vomit begins to dance and every hair on my skin revolts from the connection. Something in his stance forces me to stay. It's an unspoken command.

"Don't worry." He sounds like a broken wind-up toy. "I will no longer take what you don't offer. There will be no more sin."

Despite the fear banging away, I roll my eyes and scoff. I'd deserve whatever came for me if I believed him—this liar, this man who can't speak a single truth.

He lets his hand fall and swallows. 

"I swear, Princess. There will be no warmth, no notions of alliance, of romantic love. I expect nothing from you. If you want, you can go back to hating me."

The calmness in his eyes and lackluster voice strike hard. My eyes widen and I come to the conclusion that he's entirely serious. Many would take me for a fool for believing him this time. But I've begun to recognize there are moments for Butcher when a moral fabric does exist—like last night. He's showing me a piece of this cloth now.

"Forgive me. I just want something that reminds me I'm human. Something that offers acceptance, even if it's because of force. Forgive me."

The blood drains. I can't look him in the eyes anymore.

"It's never been this way. I've never hoped for—."

He swallows with difficulty. I watch as he fights for control—control of himself.

"Just, stay! Understand?"

"No," I growl. "No, I don't!"

"I'm a selfish man, Princess," he warns.