Page 46 of Broken Rejected Mate

“I’m so sorry,” Opal breathes, shaking her head. “I didn’t—can you bring it back?”

Sarina giggles, turns, and meets my eye. Then she seems to realize she’s been caught, her eyes going wide as she snaps back around, the picture of nonchalance.

“Of course,” the caster says, shaking his head and re-animating the cloud. Once again, the crowd cheers.

Someone calls out, “Hey, what’s the prize? She lassoed the cloud!”

“Oh, uh,” the caster looks around, as if needing help. “…Free cloud drink?”

Sarina cheers, which incites even more cheering, and I decide that’s enough, smiling at everyone and taking her by the shoulders.

“I swear,” my mother says to Emin. “I really wasn’t trying to hit it.”

“I know, Opal,” Emin laughs, in a tone that tells me he knows exactly why that happened, too. “Nobody is going to arrest you for cloud murder.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“Maybe just cloud slaughter?”

Sarina erupts in another round of giggles, and when I glance at the three of them—Emin, my mother, Sarina, laughing, cheeks flushed, so, so happy—it feels like a fever dream.

A fever dream that I might like to stay in just a bit longer, even if I know it’s not real.

***

It’s dark, and I’m drowning in the scent of Emin Argent.

Once again, I’m in his closet. Climbing out, going through the window. Stumbling down the street, getting to my house. Stuffing my bag full of clothes. No idea where I’m going to go, but with the knowledge that I have to leave.

When I open the back door and try to take my first step into the yard—

“Veva.” It’s Emin, but not as a teenager. Now, an adult. And I realize I’m an adult, too, breathing hard, glancing past him at the trees pushing up against the property line.

“Move,” I say, trying to step around him. He doesn’t move, but he’s still in front of me.

“Don’t go,” he says, and when I close my eyes, I feel his touch everywhere, caressing. I’m like the stone, and he’s the caster, imbuing me. “Veva, don’t run away.”

I want to stay, but then I look past him, see Sarina already disappearing into the forest, and my entire body fills with panic. I have to go with her—I can’t let her get away. Can’t let her run away like I did.

If she goes, I know where she’ll end up. At the border to the territory, maybe trying to get back to camp? Jerrod Blacklock’s men with their hands on her body, hoisting her up and over their shoulders. She struggles, screams, and they laugh at her.

Gasping, I wake up in a cold sweat, body shaking. The dream has never gone like that before.

“Hey,” Emin says, running his hand over my hair, his voice thick with sleep. “Hey, love, are you okay?”

Love.

I shouldn’t have, but the moment Sarina fell asleep, I snuck out the room and into this bed with him, slotting my body to his. Sliding out from under his arm, I try to calm my shaking hands.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “I’m okay, I’m just—I’m going to go back in. Before Sarina wakes up.”

Emin blinks sleepily, looks at the window—which is still dark—then returns his gaze to mine. We stare at each other for a moment, then he says, “Okay.”

I slink across the hallway and slide back into bed with my daughter, lying on my back, forcing myself to breathe. The dreams have never been real, have only ever been a repeat of that day. I always, always wake up from them.

But something about that one was different.

I roll over onto my side and stare at Sarina, telling myself she’s okay until I drift into a restless, uneasy sleep.

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