Cathy was about to ask what he meant when she caught sight of four canvas bags lined up against the wall. Each one was crammed to capacity with books.
“Aodhan, no,” she said, stomach lurching. “You can’t.”
“No?” He slid down the ladder, landing with a thump. Unceremoniously discarding his armload of books, he picked up two of the bags. “Sorry. I should have asked how much free shelf space you had in your house first. I’ll get rid of these.”
She grabbed his wrist as he moved to pitch them over the side of the platform. “Are you insane? You can’t just throw your books around!”
“Why not?” The faint light of the fae light glittered in his eyes. He had a reckless, feverish air, like he’d watched his own house burn down and now had nothing left to lose. “No need to keep things organized now, is there? It’s not like I’ll be coming back.”
“Stop that!” Cathy intercepted the bags as he moved to hurl them again. She backed away, holding them like hostages. “Stop. Just stop. Aodhan, we have to talk.”
His shoulders slumped. That unnerving, manic energy drained away, leaving him looking gaunt and tired. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” She put the bags of books down, carefully propping them against the wall so that none of the precious contents spilled out, then took his hand. “But I would like to understand. Talk to me. Please. Why are you doing this?”
He smiled again, with all the cheer of a skull. “Because you are my knight, and I am your steed.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. We both knew that we’d have to part one day. You can’t give up everything for me. You just can’t.”
“You don’t understand.” His fingers were lax in hers, cold to the touch. “I answered your Call. That can’t be undone. I am your steed, bound and sworn. Where you go, I must follow.”
“But you didn’t want to be Called!” she cried. “This shouldn’t have happened! You said you’d designed a ritual to prevent it. You said—”
She broke off as his exact words came back to her. Are you sure it works? she’d asked him, and he’d replied: I’m here, aren’t I?
“It didn’t work,” she whispered. Guilt choked her, as though fate had fastened that cruel collar around her neck rather than his. “You tried to block me out. But it didn’t work.”
His bleak expression softened a little. He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her, tucking her under his chin.
“I don’t regret that,” he murmured. “Yes, my ritual failed. Not from any underlying flaw, but because you were in danger. You needed me, and both the magic and my own conscience wouldn’t allow me to turn my back and leave you in peril. So I came. I will never regret that. Never.”
She buried her face in his chest, feeling his heart beating in perfect time with her own. “When did you know?”
“That you were my fated rider? Since before we met. Motley didn’t send me to find you. I was already on my way, long before Cuan contacted him to ask for my help.” He let out his breath. “Goddesses, I’m as bad as the high sidhe. I’ve never lied to you, Cathy. But I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the truth, either. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Aodhan. I never meant to Call you.”
“I know.” He tipped her head up so that their gazes met. “It’s not your fault, Cathy. None of this is your fault. Fate’s a damn bitch, that’s all.”
She reached up to cup his face, tracing the strong, beautiful lines of the body he’d made for himself. Aodhan turned his head to kiss her palm, and her heart tore in two. He’d lost everything because of her—his freedom, his home, his independence—and yet still there was nothing but love in the soft caress of his lips.
“Can you…” She had to stop, swallowing the pain in her throat. “Could you still do the ritual? Sever the bond, even now?”
A shadow crossed his face. “There’s no way to know for sure without actually performing it. But based on my understanding of the underlying theory… yes. I think so.”
“Then go!” She fisted her hands in his robes, trying to tug him back toward the doorway. “Go to your workshop. Do it now.”
“Cathy.” He caught her wrists, holding her still. “I already tried. I went down to my workshop, while you were busy taking care of Kevin. Even laid out the ritual components. But I couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “I’m safe now. It’s all over. You don’t have to worry about protecting me anymore. There’s nothing stopping you from freeing yourself.”
“You stop me!” His voice rose, roughening with anguish. He cupped her face in his hands, fingers clamping tight, as though terrified she might slip from his grasp. “Goddesses, Cathy, you don’t understand. Every moment, every breath, part of me is listening for your call. Hoping for your call. Herne, when you rode me, when your light wrapped round me—it was glorious. I have no defense against you. When you’re close like this, filling my senses and my mind and my heart, you are all that I want. Breaking that bond would be like picking up a knife and plunging it into my own chest.”
“But you didn’t get a choice!” she cried. “No matter how the bond makes you feel now, it isn’t right. You don’t want a rider, you never did.”
“No.” His mouth curved in a smile, though his eyes stayed dark and sad. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “But you claimed me, and now I am yours. Always.”
She would have argued further, but his mouth closed over hers, silencing the words. His tongue slid between her lips, forceful and demanding. If she’d claimed him, now he claimed her; ruthlessly, driving out any other thought.