Page 155 of The Immortal's One
His words are a punch to the gut. The air is knocked out of my lungs.
My eyes search his, desperate to find proof that he doesn’t mean what he says. But his face is tight. Determined. There’s not a flicker of uncertainty in his once-again hazel eyes.
“You’re lying,” I murmur, then clear my throat and demand, “Why?”
“I am not lying.”
“Youare!” My chest heaves with rapid breaths. I lose my composure.
Memories of our kiss burn through me, dousing me with a fresh wave of desire—desire I don’t want to resist. There are so many things I need to figure out. I need to know what really happened to Des’s past soulmates; if the rebellion was really behind their deaths.
I need to know what it will mean if I accept there’s a connection between us, and what being linked to an Immortal means for my future…
I’m not ready to make any decisions. I just want to know the truth.
I want to know how Des expects me to resist the string that’s wrapped around my chest, pulling me towards him with irresistible intensity ever since the moment his lips touched mine.
“You’ve experienced trauma,” Des says with no emotion, his eyes distant. “It’s messing with your judgment.”
A surge of irritation rips through me, followed by pain. My arms fall to my sides.
“Why are you doing this?” I blink back angry tears and clench my hands into fists. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”
“Because there’s nothing to say.” He jerks his chin toward my house across the street. “You’re back where you belong, Darcie. You’ve wanted this since I brought you to Greece. Go inside. Enjoy your freedom. Don't stand out here saying something that will embarrass us both.”
I suck in a sharp breath, the sting of his words stabs harder than I expect.
Wow.
Just… wow.
I was wrong. So wrong.
I don’t feel anything for this man, this Immortal whose mood swings leave me with emotional whiplash. The same guy who can barely look me in the eye when it matters.
You’re lying, my subconscious accuses me.
I scoff.I don’t really care.
“You’re right, Des.” My eyes narrow, annoyed when my voice wavers. I take a breath and continue, “Forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks, but he nods once. “Agreed.”
I don’t deserve this.
Anger gives way to fatigue as energy seeps out of my body. All I want to do is walk into my house, wrap myself in a warm blanket, and forget all this happened.
I unclench my hands and force myself to say, “Thank you for saving me.”
“Of course.”
I wait for him to say more. I don’t know why. You’d think I would’ve learned by now.
When people tell you who they are, believe them. Des has said I’m not hisOne—that he’s not interested in a connection. He doesn’t care.
It’s time I believe it and move on.
I let go. “Goodbye, Des.”
