Macy POV
Silence falls over the ballroom. Fae stand with their hands over their mouths and tears in their eyes. No one dares utter a sound for fear of Cassian's wrath. The only one who dares make any noise at all is Roland.
He is broken. His daughter was lost to him before, but not dead. Now, she lies at his feet, and there is nothing he can do to save her. All hope and joy has drained from his face, and for the first time since I met him. He looks old. The wrinkles around his eyes look deeper, and his skin appears sallow.
Guilt overcomes me, and I curl myself into Winston's chest. If only I had stayed inside. It is my fault she is gone. Why do I have I always do the opposite of what I am told?
Feet begin to shuffle, and the ballroom slowly empties. I don't dare to meet their faces as the attendees leave. Goddess knows what they must think of me.
"Take her to her room," Cassian sighs.
"I think I am owed some sort of explanation," I retort.
Edward takes my hand. "Not now, Crazy. Don't be hard headed when they have just lost someone they loved."
I bite back any smartass comment I have brewing in my mind. The tangy taste of blood covers my tongue, and I realize I have been biting my cheek. I nod in Edward's direction and let him lead me out of the ballroom.
My wings and feet drag the ground as we walk the distance to my room. I move on autopilot. When we reach my room, I don't remember how we got there. Edward pushes the door open and lets me step inside first. When they don't follow me, I know they are waiting for an invitation. How do I beg them to stay after how I have acted?
"Don't leave me alone," I whisper.
Winston rushes in, but Edward still hovers in the doorway. "Is that an invitation for both of you mates?"
"Don't be that way, Edward," I whisper. "I don't want to fight. Not tonight."
"He's gone," Edward says, stepping into the room. "Who are you going to replace us with now?"
"That isn't fair," I reply. "Destin was thrust upon me. I didn't choose anyone."
"Did you fuck him?" Edward demands to know.
"What?" I gasp. "Of course not."
"Whatever," he growls. "I am not staying here."
"Please stay," I say, closing the distance between us.
My fingers burn to touch him. The need to feel the bond between us is overwhelming. I need to know it is still there, even though we do not always get along. I give in to the urge and trace a delicate finger along his jaw. The sparks between us are electric.
I let my finger trail down his arm, and I close my hand around his. I expect a fight when I pull him into the room, but he doesn't. I close the door behind him and hold my breath. When Edward doesn't continue to argue with me, I exhale.
His clothes are tattered and barely covering his body. The symbols still line his arm from the bond between us, and tears fill my eyes. He hasn't abandoned me yet.
"You need a shower," I whisper as I begin to remove what is left of his clothes.
His jaw ticks irritably as I touch him, but he doesn't stop me. He keeps his eyes straight ahead and a cold expression on his face. He isn't going to forgive me, and I am not sure that I forgive him. But I won't deny us the mate bond. Not tonight.
When I have stripped him down to nothing, I look over my shoulder at Winston. He is lounging on the bed, watching us. "Are you coming too?" I ask him.
He shakes his head no. Winston knows we need to repair what has been lost between Edward and me. He is giving us the space we need to work things out. I blow a kiss over my shoulder, and he pretends to catch it in the air. His goofy grin is so adorable that I almost run back and kiss him, but I need to stay the task.
"Will you help me with my dress?" I say to Edward. "There are so many buttons in the back."
His jaw is tight, but he doesn't deny me. His fingers work quickly to undo each button. The dress begins to loosen around my shoulders, and I let it fall to the ground. It is mostly still in one piece, even after Arabella attacked me. It is not like I would ever wear it again. I don't want to keep anything reminding me of this night.
Edward doesn't stop at my dress. He unclips my bra, leaving me in just my panties. Slowly, he walks around me and drops to his knees. He pulls my panties down slowly, letting his knuckles graze against my skin. I reach for his head, but he is back on his feet before I can. He is staring at me. His face is still somber, but there is heat in his gaze. Blush rushes across my skin, and I keep my eyes on the ground. It just occurred to me that I must look different. What if he doesn't like this version of me?
Two fingers slide under my chin, and he tilts it so our gaze meets. "You are wounded."
"It is just a scratch," I whisper.
"It doesn't look like just a scratch," he replies.
I had forgotten it was there, but when Edward runs the pad of his thumb over it, the pain fresh. I jerk away from his touch, and the corners of his lips turn down. "Let me heal it."
"No," I shake my head. "Leave it."
"Why?"
"Because I need the reminder to stop being disobedient," I groan.
Edward snorts and wraps his hand my neck. He gently pulls me forward, and heat pulls between my legs. "You could never be obedient. You are a wild card. We didn't call you Crazy Macy for nothing."
The breath from his words fans across my lips, driving me crazy. If he doesn't kiss me soon, I might combust. I attempt to swallow, but he tightens his hand around my throat.
"You want me to kiss you," he smirks.
I blink, and he lets me go. I stumble forward, bracing myself against the wall. My arousal is coating my thighs, and I know he has to smell it. I squeeze my thighs together to alleviate the need, but it doesn't help.
His hand runs down the middle of my back, between my wings. All of the air leaves my body as he steps closer to me. The warmth of his body presses against mine and press my back against him. Though, it doesn't have the reaction I planned for.
Edward sputters as if he is choking on something. I spin around and smack him with my wing. "Oh shit," I stifle my laughter.
He falls back, and when I try to help him up, I step on the end of my wing and fall on top of him. "Oops," I cringe when my knee brushes his crotch.
Clumsily, I try to right myself, but I keep getting tangled in my wings.
"Stop moving," Edward groans.
I freeze with my legs on either side of him. His cock brushing against my core. My eyes widen. It has been so long since I had sex with Winston that I can barely remember what it felt like. Resting his hands on my hips, his fingers dig into my skin.
"Can you control those wings?" He asks seriously.
"Nope," I reply.
He pauses, and I am sure the moment is over. His eyes are locked on my face, but he is staring through me. I wish I could read his mind.
"Fuck it," he says, thrusting his hips up.