Perhaps he thinks kissing men in the forest is normal for me. There was nothing normal about that night—our reaction to each other was something else. Primal, even. I shudder at the memory, willing it to go away, pushing it back down along with all the others that could only ever hurt me.
I refuse to be hurt; I promised myself I was going to take control of my situation, and that’s what I’m doing. The coven is happy with the changes I helped implement, and next week, I’m starting a drop-in session for witches who are nervous about mixing with the shifters, hoping to integrate them better. Ava and Sarah gave me some great advice on how they’ve been helping women fleeing domestic violence to rebuild their lives, and a lot of the initiatives seem like they’d work well, integrating the covens, too.
So, I’m too busy to be bothered by Tristen’s words. Or the fact that he can’t stand being in the same room as me. Or the way his obvious and public rejection of me means that the pack either stares at me with pity or mistrust.
I was flirting with Nolan, or at least attempting to. But only because he was nice to me, and damn if it wasn’t a welcome change. He made me laugh and actually wanted to talk to me.
For a moment, I was actuallyalmostenjoying myself. It didn’t hurt that Nolan was so attractive. With his tousled brown hair, amber eyes, and strong features, I know he looks a lot like Tristen, a thought that pisses me off even as I acknowledge it.
Frustrated at my situation and the shifter that dominates my thoughts, I swing my legs out of bed. I’m due at the mandated training session in an hour—self-defense classes for witches that we hope will help them defend themselves better against the rogues if it comes to it. I’ve yet to be convinced that a few self-defense moves would help more than our magic, but it's better than nothing for witches with a lesser degree of practical magic. Or no magic at all.
I walk through the house toward the kitchen, not even bothering to put anything on over my skimpy shorts and tank set—I know he won’t be here. He never is. The house is so beautiful, and having it all to myself should be a bonus, but it’s torture feeling him everywhere, yet knowing he hates me. I’m not completely naive, though; his reaction to my flirting with Nolan contained an element of jealousy. It's probably just because it made him look bad as an alpha to have his luna looking at other men. And as twisted as it sounds, for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.
I put a fresh pot on and stand by the window, frozen in place, when I see Tristen at the end of the drive talking to acouple of his betas. He must only just now be leaving. I vaguely recognize the two men with him, but I can’t place their names. They both have gym bags with them, so they're probably heading to the training. As I pour my coffee and take a long sip, letting the caffeine flood my system, a thought formulates.
If he’s going to make my life hell, I can do the same. Misery loves company, after all.
Walking into the hall forty minutes later, I make a point of ignoring Tristen and walk over to where a small mix of witches, both from my coven and others, are warming up with the betas I saw earlier. I greet the other women and make a point of removing my sweater slowly to reveal the cropped tank I chose to pair with my yoga pants. Normally, I’d keep the sweater firmly on, but the fact that I can feel Tristen already looking makes it instantly worthwhile.
“Right, ladies, Emily,” one of the betas says, stepping forward and deliberately addressing me as luna. “I’m Sam. We’re going to start with some stretches before moving onto some defensive moves.”
“Okay, Sam,” I smile. “Are you going to be throwing us around? You look pretty strong.”
Some of the younger women giggle, and Sam blushes. “I, er, only to show you the moves.”
I laugh lightly, “Oh, don’t worry, we don’t mind at all. Do we?” I say, turning to the witches, who are all already swooning over the shifters and need no encouragement.
Tristen made an error. None of my sisters are whores—but witches are in touch with their sensuality. They enjoy their bodies and are connected to Mother Nature and the goddess in a unique way. They’re also hopeless romantics. The ironic part is that I also used to be a hopeless romantic, waiting for my princecharming—but Tristen destroyed that part of me in the forest that night, and I’ve felt nothing for another man since.
That doesn’t mean I can’t act the part, though.
As the session continues, I make sure to brush up against Sam, deliberately taking the time to note the hard muscles under his shirt and catching him off guard with quick moves that showcase my flexibility and the tight outfit I’m wearing. Sam seems nice, and if I actually cared, I’d probably be getting a thrill from this as he’s clearly not unaffected, though I'm trying very hard not to look it. I don’t feel sorry for him, though, because, judging by the reaction of the other witches, he’s going to be very popular, anyway.
We break to grab some water, and I walk over to where we left our bottles with one of the friendly witches from my cover, Savannah. She lets out a low whistle and smirks at me. “I see what you’re doing, Em,” she laughs. “Playing with fire, aren’t we?”
I take a long drink of my water, gathering my thoughts before replying. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” I shrug. “Just living a little.”
The willowy blonde witch chuckles. “This is a different side to you, I must say. That hulking alpha must be doing you some good. Not sure I’d make the wolf too jealous, though, he looks like he’s about to destroy Sam, and I have plans for him.”
I glance around, and sure enough, Tristen is openly glaring at Sam, who looks concerned enough to keep his distance from me and Tristen now. I sigh. He seems nice, and I genuinely don’t want him to get into trouble, especially if Savannah wants him in one piece. I decide to change tacks, and when we restart, I move to the other side of the group to work with another beta,Garret’s, group. Savannah gives me a wink as she moves in on a visibly relieved Sam.
Garret appears to be oblivious to the previous tension, and his group is lively with some witches I don’t know. I introduce myself, and it probably just looks as though I’m making the rounds as luna to get to know everyone. I continue my routine of ensuring Tristen has an excellent view every time I stretch in my tight yoga pants or have to ask Garret to show me a move again, making sure to point out how strong he is. Tristen has been overseeing the training and moving between groups, but is clearly making a point to avoid mine. I notice he’s standing with Ryan off to the side now, visibly raging about something, and I get a little thrill, hoping my attempts to make him jealous have worked.
Deep down, I know it’s foolish. I know I shouldn’t care. But he’s been ignoring me since I got here. The only time he cared about my presence at all was when Nolan was interested. Part of me wants to see if that was a one-off or if I can get a reaction out of him again.
As the morning wears on, I find myself looking around for Tristen more than I’d like to admit. When he finally joins our group, his eyes are hard, and his jaw is clenched. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was angry.
I’m surprised when he comes to stand directly beside me, leaning in to whisper, "What's going on, Emily?" His voice is so low that only I can hear.
My heart skips a beat at the sound of my name in his deep, rumbling tone. "Nothing," I reply quickly, trying not to show any reaction. "Just getting to know everyone."
He scoffs softly. "I can see that."
I turn to glance at him and don’t miss how his eyes are fixed directly on mine before looking down, scanning my body without even trying to hide it. I can feel my cheeks turning red, and I hate how he can still affect me so much. He walks off, and I feel my resolve faltering in his wake. Straightening my shoulders, I realize that several people have stopped to watch our interaction, and my embarrassment increases.
Having always been the outsider in my coven, deemed so unimportant, Marian just bartered me away like I’m nothing to them, the thought that everyone can see that Tristen has rejected me physically stings more than I want to admit. I guess that’s why Nolan’s attention felt so good.
For the rest of the session, I double down on my flirting. Garret is good-looking and clearly a bit of a player, because although he’s wary, it’s clear that he’s a natural flirt and can’t help himself. He’s careful not to overstep, but I find it easy to laugh at his jokes, and I know I’m monopolizing his time in the group with our increasingly playful joking around. Every time I look at Tristen, I see his face darkening further; instead of putting me off, it spurs me on.