Page 45 of Crimson Mate

Talia

It's been a week since Zachariah took me on our axe throwing date.

A week of throwing myself into hunts and researching and hanging out with the girls in a pathetic attempt to avoid him.

I’d laid every inch of myself bare that night, and I didn’t have the courage to stick around and hear how he might respond.

I half expected him to have cornered me in the last week, to force me to hear his side of the story. But the charming bastard was respectfully giving me my space, and I hated myself for wanting him to break the clear boundary I'd set up.

Hated that half of me appreciated the distance, the time to clear my head. The other half of mehatedthe distance, and I ached for him on a second-to-second basis.

It certainly didn't help now, standing with the girls on one of the little balconies that overlooks the training room, doing what they call one of their favorite pastimes—watching the assassins and hunters train.

Zachariah is facing off with Dagon, the two dominating one of the large cushioned mats in the left portion of the training room. Both are shirtless, their powers snapping here and there at each other right alongside their fists and legs.

Goddamn, Zachariah is fun to look at. His body is all carved muscle and smooth skin, sweat dripping down the grooves his muscles created.

Lachlan and Ajax were facing off on another mat on the right side of the training room, and Valor and Grace are watching that battle with rapt attention.

Annika stands on my left, her eyes trained almost exactly where mine are, except she can’t stop staring at Dagon. She isn’t even trying to hide it, and why would she, when she was among trusted female companions far away from prying eyes?

“I think you have a little drool happening right here,” I tease, pointing toward corner of her mouth.

She blinks out of her stare, laughing and shaking her head. “Can you blame me?Lookat him.”

I certainlycouldn'tblame her. Dagon is a fine specimen with tons of corded muscle of his own, although more ink decorated his skin than Zachariah’s. His dirty blond hair is cut just above his shoulders, and is tied back now, his strong jaw dusted with the hint of a newly grown beard. With crystal blue eyes to match, he would draw anyone’s attention, not to mention he’s powerful, confident, and on occasion funny.

Of course, all of that held no allure for me, especially as he throws a right hook into my mate’s—intoZachariah’s—jaw.

My heart clenches at the move, every instinct in my body urging me to jump the long distance and put myself between him and Dagon, even though I know Dagon isn’t a real threat to Zachariah.

Not only because were they brothers, but because if Zachariah willed it, Dagon would be on his back. He had that much power. Power I didn’t realize was such a burden to him until a few nights ago.

Still, it’s hard to watch him take a hit. Just the idea of him being harmed is enough to make my stomach turn.

“Dagon can be an absolute ass sometimes,” I say to Annika. “But he's genuinely a good guy. What's stopping you from pursuing what put that look in your eyes?”

Her lips part as she gapes at me. “Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that he's like this ancient, awesome, impeccable hunter? Or the fact that he despises me because of how much Olivia has been bugging him to spend time with me and see if the powers trying to surface in me are like his?” She shakes her head, blowing out of breath. “I wouldn't stand a chance,” she says resolutely.

“I wouldn't be so sure?—”

“Has anyone heard from Daphne?” she cuts over me, clearly stopping that conversation in its tracks. I respect the move, and deliberately back off. “She keeps dodging my questions about Halloween.”

Valor glances at Annika, and Grace gives us her attention too. “No, I can't get it out of her either.”

“Get what out of her?” I ask, feeling slightly out of the loop. I'd been pretty focused on Zachariah the night of the Halloween party.

“The demon king cornered her in a dark hallway,” Valor explains, and my jaw nearly comes unhinged at that statement. “Yeah,” she continues. “Xavier is a real piece of work, and he's had eyes on my cousin for a while, even more so now that she started college at Edgemont University. I can't tell if it's a passing amusement or something more intense, but she won't give me any details about what he said to her on Halloween. She's totally ignoring all of my calls. It's driving me crazy.”

“Do you think he's a danger to her?” Grace asks. “Because if so, I could totally read her mind and tell you what he said.”

Valor laughs, shaking her head. “While I appreciate that show of support, I wouldn't betray her trust like that. No, I just have to trust that if shewerein any kind of danger, she wouldtell me. I just hate this for her. I wanted her to try and have a normal life at college, but being so close to me and the family we come from, I guess normal was always out of the equation.”

“She's a smart woman,” I say, having met her a couple times. “And she trusts you. She'd let you know if something was off.” Valor nods, flashing me a soft smile. “Speaking of unsolved mysteries,” I say, arching a brow at her. “Did you and Lachlan ever figure out the whole transition thing?”

Valor sighs. “We’re still evidently not on the same page,” she answers, her eyes trailing to where Lachlan continues to battle Ajax in the training room. “Which is funny, because in the beginning, I was the one unsure about transitioning, and he was the one trying to convince me. And now we've switched sides. I get where he's coming from. He wants me to do it for the right reasons, but he doesn’t agree that doing it now and using some of the artifacts we've all found to try and throw off Conrad would be an added bonus.”

“But you're certain about transitioning eventually?” I ask, knowing it's a huge step.

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