Cate Tiernan - The Calling

Hunter blew out his breath, a cloud of steam in the icy air. “Don’t be ridiculous. Heritage does not equal destiny.”

“For me it does. I can’t be with you anymore. We have to break up.”

There. It was out. I shut my eyes tight against the pain. It was worse than anything I’d experienced at the hands of Amyranth. I felt like I’d just cut out my own heart.

“We have to do what?” Hunter’s voice was carefully controlled, as if he were trying to convince himself he’d misheard me.

“I’m breaking up with you,” I said more strongly. I opened my eyes, but I still couldn’t look at him. I stared at the wooden slats of the dock below my feet and wondered what it would be like to drop through them, sink into the frigid water below. Don’t cry, Morgan. You will not cry. I took a deep breath and said the only thing I could think of that would make him go away. “I don’t love you anymore.”

“Really?” His voice was like ice. “When did that happen?”

“Things—things have changed,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry. I just don’t love you anymore.”

Hunter just looked at me. We both knew I was lying.

“Listen.” His voice was ragged. “I came here to tell you something else. I never really believed in all this mùirn beatha dàn stuff. I thought it was just romantic nonsense. But Morgan, you are my mùirn beatha dàn . I realized that when I thought I was going to lose you to Amyranth. I love you—absolutely, totally, forever. Know that.”

Oh, God. It hurt so much, the words I’d been waiting for, words that should have made me so happy. And all I could think was: Don’t tell me that now. Please. You can’t love me.

“Look at me, dammit.” Hunter was inches away from me now. “Look at me and tell me you want to break up.”

I raised my eyes to his and saw pain and grief and confusion—and love. No one would ever look at me with that much love again. I blinked back tears. “I want to break up.”

“Oh, Morgan,” he said. Then he took that final step toward me, and somehow our arms were around each other. He held me while I cried, and I could feel both our hearts breaking.

“I love you,” he said again, which only made me cry harder.

I don’t know how long we stood together like that. When we finally stepped apart, the front of his wool coat was spongy with my tears.

“I have to go now,” I told him. “Don’t call me.” Before either of us could say more, I turned and ran toward Das Boot. The wind rose, howling down the river, echoing our pain. But Hunter’s voice managed to carry over it.

“We make our own choices,” he called after me.