Page 8 of Shifting Fate
“When were you born?”
He blinked, confused. “What?”
“Like, the zodiac?” I made another few passes with the needle.
“Oh. Scorpio all the way, baby.”
I chuckled. “Should’ve known.”
“What about you?”
“Cancer.” Before he had the chance to tell mejusthow compatible our signs were, I asked, “What’s your favorite color?”
He pouted. “Why don’t you take a guess?”
I pulled back and gave him a once-over, then smirked. “Black.”
“Hah!”
“What is it, then?” I shot back, raising a brow.
“Pink.” He framed his face with both hands, then ran his fingers through the faded orangish-pink strands of his hair. He tugged at the ends, then hummed. “I really should get my hair redone. I don’t know why I haven’t. Maybe I just haven’t decided on the right color yet.”
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
Pursing his lips, he thought about it for a moment. “Probably the west coast. I’ve been there a few times, and there’s nothing quite like the ocean. I miss it.”
“Why don’t you go back?” I asked.
“Amber Run is family, and I don’t see us packing up and moving to California anytime soon. What about you?”
“Mmm. Almost done.”
He craned his neck around, curiosity in his brown eyes. “Wait, wait, wait. I forgot to ask, what’syourfavorite color, Arias?” Another surge of longing crashed through me like a tidal wave. I was suddenly too aware of the way his warmth seeped into my skin, the way his leg was pressed flush against my hip.
“Purple.”
“Purple, huh?” I heard the teasing lilt to his voice, but he didn’t goad me. “Interesting.”
I finished patching him up and quickly put some distance between us before I did something I’d regret. Even though Dallon couldn’t smellme, his scent wrapped around me like a cloak. He smelled sogood, too, like tart granny smith apples.
It drove me crazy on a normal day, but having him right here? Touching his soft skin? God, it would be so easy to close the space between us and settle myself between Dallon’s thighs, to touch him, to taste him…
I jerked away with a shake of my head.None of that.I waved him off the counter and began cleaning up. Turning the hot water on, I washed the blood off my hands, scrubbing bubbles up to my elbows before rinsing them off.
“About earlier,” I began, remembering back to my outburst. “With the Dreads… I wanted to apologize. I overreacted.”
“No shit?” Dallon huffed. “I hadn’t noticed. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were actuallyworriedabout me. Hah.”
Oh, if he only knew the half of it.
I turned my head to the side to catch his eye. “I know I might not be the most outgoing guy in the world, but I don’t like seeing my friends get hurt, for any reason. I already lost my little brother to the Dreadhunters. I don’t want to lose you too.”
He frowned. “I thought Tristram said Findlay was still alive?”
I inhaled sharply, pushing the pain aside. “He doesn’t know. Not really,” I admitted. “But he refuses to give up, not until we have concrete proof that Finn’s really gone.” I slowly shook my head, my throat aching with emotion.
“Is Findlay his mate?”
