Page 85 of Poison Sun

I messed up. Big time.

“You’re a blood witch.” His voice is low and controlled, but there’s an undercurrent of betrayal that cuts deeper than a blade ever could.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “Blaze, I?—“

“You lied to me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I say, even though it kind of was.

“All this time.” He starts pacing, running his fingers through his hair so it gets that wild look I love so much.

When he faces me again, a heat wave ripples over his skin, as if he’s quelling a furnace that’s stirring in his blood.

“And last night, too,” he says. “It was a lie. All of it.”

There’s venom in his voice when he says those final words.

The worst part?

I deserve it.

Because yes, it was my right to keep my secret for as long as I wanted. But to allow last night to happen without revealing the truth about myself first? To initiate the intimacy between us when there was so much more I needed to share?

It was wrong. I knew it then, and I know it now.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, even though it isn’t anywhere close to enough. “It’s just… my sisters are blood witches, too. This isn’t just my secret—it’s our secret. And you and I just met. I had no idea what you wanted with me. I didn’t even know there were any blood witches other than me and my sisters before I met you. I’m a clairvoyant, and I had absolutely no idea this was coming.”

“Wait,” he says. “You’re a what?”

“A clairvoyant,” I repeat. “I can see the future. Kind of. When it wants me to see it. And it’s not usually super clear. But I can use my blood to scry for it.”

He’s staring at me like I’m an alien that landed on Earth.

I don’t blame him. That was a lot of information at once.

“That’s… a lot,” he finally says, echoing my thoughts.

“I know.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes,” I jump at the opening. “I wanted to. Eventually. I just didn’t know when…”

I can’t bring myself to continue.

Because he’s looking at me like he hates me.

“Telling me before you slept with me would have been a safe bet,” he says, and his words might as well be knives to my chest.

“I know,” I repeat, and I glance at the ground, quickly forcing myself to meet his eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

It’s not good enough. But we’re standing in the middle of the Valley of the Vanished, so close to the Witch Langwerda’s cottage that I can taste it. This isn’t exactly the right place and time for a confrontation and explanation about my blood witch abilities.

“Look,” I finally say, since he’s not exactly jumping to accept my apology here. “I understand that you’re angry with me. You have a right to be angry with me. But can we talk about this later? At a better time?”

Given the death glares he’s continuing to give me, I brace myself for a blast of fire heading my way.

I won’t hurt him.

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