Alaric's lip curled as he yanked his sleeve from Rowan's grasp.
Still not ready to give up, Rowan ran in front of him and blocked his path. "We don't share blood, but I am your brother. Look me in the face and tell me you hate me. Tell me you really think I am so vile that you can't stand the sight of my skin or bear my touch on your sleeve. Say it."
Alaric's hands clenched into fists at his side. His dark brows furrowed as his own unspoken turmoil washed over his face. Rowan knew the conflict all too well, the guilt over daring to think differently than you were supposed to.
"Please…I'm your brother," Rowan said. "I love you. I won't let you be alone anymore."
Alaric's mouth twisted as Rowan grabbed his hand and curled his fingers around the clenched fist. Skin to skin. The one who was supposed to be the most impure, touching the one who was supposed to be the most pure.
