Page 16 of A Touch of Iron
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Neither am I!” I shouted. “Do you think people only talk to you if they have romantic intentions? Grow up.”
“I’m just making sure.” He raised his lantern to look me over. “So what do you want to talk about?”
I huffed, clearly annoyed. “Why do you live out here?” I cut straight to the chase. He obviously didn’t like beating around the bush. Gods forbid he thought I was interested in him as a love interest. Gross.
He chuckled. “Why do you care?”
“Because I want to know whyI’mliving out here,” I declared. “We’re obviously being secluded for a reason.”
His expression turned serious, and he straightened. “I know my reason, but I don’t know yours. I can’t help you.”
“What’s your reason?”
“That’s none of your business.”
I deflated. “For the love of the fae,” I grumbled. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
“I won’t.”
“Okay!” I shouted. “For fae’s sake, you’re annoying.”
“So are you,” he countered. “I’ve known you all of two seconds and you want to know all my little secrets.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”
His gaze narrowed and he looked away. “Are you bored in that cottage all alone?” he whispered so low I barely heard him.
I peered up at his dark gaze and shrugged. “Sorta. Calypso keeps me company during the day for training, but the evenings and nights are too quiet. I don’t like it.”
He watched me for the longest ten seconds of my life and then sighed. “Did you really come all this way just to make a friend?”
I shrugged. “Possibly. It’s not like I can go into the village.”
Creed nodded. “Fine. Have you had dinner?”
I shook my head.
He waved me over. “Follow me. I’m sure there’s more than enough food at my place.”
“Are you sure your mother won’t mind?”
He froze. Eyes without a trace of warmth met mine. “How do you know about my mother?”
“Calypso told me,” I whispered.
He sighed loudly and swore. “Damnit. She can’t keep her mouth shut.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t have anyone to tell,” I admitted sheepishly. It sounded so pathetic when I said it out loud, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel it. But ever since waking up without a shred of memory for my old life, I hadn’t felt like myself.
Without another word, Creed thundered deeper into the woods, down the trail. Before I could second-guess the wisdom of my actions, I followed, jogging to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. Eventually we reached a cottage that looked similar to mine. A small fire was lit in the front yard with a black pot hovering over it, presumably full of soup. Two logs surrounded the fire, acting as crude benches.
“Oh – you already started dinner. Are you sure there’s enough?”
He nodded. “There’s plenty. Hopefully you’re not picky.”
I shook my head. “I’ll eat just about anything.”
He snorted. “You should be more careful about what you eat.”
