The Heartwood I don't feel the rain or the sun

It was always him asking what he could do—how could he make up for all the awful things he had done and all the lies he had told her, but it just didn't feel like enough anymore. Why couldn't he just be honest with her and why would he never believe her when she said his life didn't have to be this way. Even with everything that he had done, Simmik still believed he was deserving and capable of obtaining a better life. And if she wasn't so broken herself, she might push harder to make him see what she could see. But it was hard for her to work on others when her own mind was poisoned by what had happened to her. 

It did help to be given a name for this attacker—but how could she be sure he was telling her the truth? His words seemed genuine, but then he always seemed genuine—that was why it hurt so much when she found out more lies. I'm just—confused. She shook her head and sighed. You act like you care about me but then I find out that I never even knew your real name. She stood and took a few steps closer to him. Why send someone to spy on my pack? she asked outright. If you want some kind of allegiance, then why do that? It just didn't make any sense. It was going to be hard to persuade her pack to trust him after everything had happened, and she certainly had no plans to try if she was struggling to trust him herself. 

Her eyes narrowed at his explanation; it didn't help his case any to say it was easier for him to be bad. It made things even worse that he knew they were bad and still did them. She might have told him how cowardly it was to do things just because they were easy, but then he was raising his voice. Simmik stiffened, her ears flattening for a few moments until he seemed to calm once more. When he spoke again, his words were softer, and they stirred that familiar twinge in her chest. She closed the distance he had put between them and positioned herself right in front of him, her gaze searching for his. I don't want to hate you Don—Kynareth, she answered quietly. How I feel about you is— she swallowed nervously—quite the opposite. No matter how angry she was with him, her feelings never seemed to lessen their hold over her. But that doesn't have to be your destiny; you don't have to die hated. You can rule and be powerful without making others fear you. It was as if he refused to even try because it was ingrained in him that he could never be any other way, and that was just bullshit.