Page 45 of Dark Embers

“Meh,” I said with a shrug.

Brett held his hands up in surrender, and he looked like he was about to leave when a rare expression flashed on his face. “Have you told the general about the Arya thing and you giving up?”

I cringed at the memory of my epic fail of a date. I damn sure hadn’t said a word to my father about it—I’d decided to take a “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach with Arthur; he hadn’t asked, and I had no idea what I would tell him when he did.

I hadn’t gone into detail about what happened with Niko and Brett, and, not for the first time, I wished I could open up to them about it. But that would mean telling them about my family’s curse, and I couldn’t share that with anyone.

“Here’s the thing,” Brett said when I didn’t answer. “You two being at odds is really fucking up our group dynamic. You’re clearly obsessed with the girl, so why don’t you man up and fix it?”

Whoa!This conversation had taken a complete one-eighty. And in a direction I never would’ve thought Brett would venture. Niko, maybe, but not Brett.

“I amnotobsessed with her,” I lied. “And I’m trying to fix it.”

“By avoiding her at every turn?” he quipped. “You know it’s girls who’re supposed to play hard-to-get, right? It doesn’t really work unless you have a vagina.”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I understand vaginas pretty well,” Brett countered with a smirk.

I cut him a flat look. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

Brett chuckled and stood up off the couch. “I’m just saying, fix your shit, or we’re gonna have to split up the group. No one likes it when Mom and Dad fight.”

I frowned at his ridiculous analogy of me and Arya, and he shrugged and sauntered out of the room with his surfer boy swagger.

Picking up my book, I disappeared into my studies once more.

I understood now why the naga hypnosis hadn’t worked. Imprinting wasn’t a psychological condition but a chemical one, so I couldn’t just be compelled into not wanting her because those desires were bodily needs, like the need for oxygen. And I couldn’t just erase my memories of her because those synapses in my brain were fused with her pheromones.

What I needed to figure out was how to unfuse them, how to nullify that chemical dependency on a cellular level. If only it were as simple as detoxing from a drug. I’d take heroin withdrawals over this misery any day.

After an hour of reading, I snapped the book shut, finding nothing of value in its pages. I tapped my cell phone screen for the time, and the numbers nine-o-nine illuminated. I was too wired to even attempt to sleep, which was a struggle all its ownthese nights. So, I decided to change into workout clothes and hit the gym, hoping to exhaust myself into a coma.

I walked into the gym, surprised to hear the telltale thumping of someone punching a bag. The last thing I’d expected was to find anyone else in here, especially at this time of night. Hadn’t everyone else gone home?

As I entered the open area, I felt the tickle and tug of that possessive thread inside me before my eyes fell on her.

The raven-haired beauty looked over her shoulder at the sound of the door swinging closed, spotting me before I could snap out of the trance her appearance never failed to produce and decide to run.

She rolled her eyes and went back to throwing punches like I wasn’t even here, though the smack of her mitts was audibly more forceful than before.

I should have left. I urged myself to turn around and head right back out that door, but my legs wouldn’t obey. The aching longing in my tissues and bones was a dull hum at this distance, and no part of my anatomy was willing to abandon her proximity.

Well, if she was going to ignore my presence, then maybe I could stay. Not like I had anything better to do, and I could savor her company in silence without repercussions for as long as she would let me.

I went to my usual treadmill and set my gym bag down on the floor beside it. Niko routinely gave me shit about being picky with my gym equipment, but this was the only treadmill that didn’t have any issues—one had a glitchy screen whose numbers weren’t always correct, one had rough spots on the handles fromoveruse, and the tracks on the others were either too loose or too tacky.

This one was just right—my Goldilocks treadmill.

I stepped onto it and began to move my feet, tapping the speed up until it was at a pace that made me work for it. While I tried to keep my eyes fixed on a spot on the wall across the room, I couldn’t keep them from straying to steal glances at my reluctant gym partner.

She looked fierce as she swung punches at that leather bag, even if her form could use some improvement. The beads of sweat basting her face took nothing from her loveliness. If anything, the ferocious expression she wore made her even more provocative—a force to be reckoned with.

Also, I was glad to see her training on her own. After how close she came to losing in the Simulation Room, she really needed it. I suddenly remembered it had been my intention to train her myself, but that had been before I messed everything up. The realization had guilt and regret seeping through me, slowing me down.

Whether I remained imprinted to her or not, I still cared about her safety—you know, as a friend. I still wanted to know she could defend herself if she ever needed it. And honestly, there weren’t many students at this school who could match my skill in combat, who would make a better trainer for her than me.

Also, if she kept hitting the bag like that, she was going to sprain her wrist.

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