Page 84 of Curse of Thorns
Caelynn
My wraith groans. “Charminglover of yours.”
“He’s not my lover. And I didn’t choose him, magic chose him for me.”
He chuckles bitterly. “If you could sever the mating bond, would you do it?”
I jerk away from him, stomach in my mouth. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I didn’t think so.”
Is such a thing possible? And even if it were possible, why would I? To save myself some pain? No, I have grown quite accustomed to pain.
“Just because the magic makesitschoice known, doesn’t mean your choice isn’t also part of the equation. You do not have to love your fated mate.”
I bite the inside of my lip, shove my remaining things into my bag, and stomp out the last of the embers of our flame.
“He is going to get himself killed storming out there like that,” the wraith tells me.
I sigh and begin a slow trek down the hillside toward the open field. “The ground isn’t going to swallow him whole here, is it?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean it’s any safer.”
Rev’s silhouette is visible in the distance, but so long as I can see him, that’s okay with me. This valley is so flat and open I can see for miles.
The faded glow of sunlight is just now lightening the sky and already the valley is mostly clear of its wraith inhabitants. There are several still slinking to the tree line on both sides and two or three visible wraiths wafting in the shadows below the mountains, but none anywhere nearby. Even so, I pull shadows around my body so I’m less noticeable.
“You see,” my wraith says, “smart. Unlike that fool.”
I roll my eyes and continue my march, keeping a close eye on the shifting shadows far in the distance. They dance at every edge of this place.
I ache to catch up to Rev, but I know better. He needs some space, and I could probably use it too. The truth is, being near him is hard. Looking him in the eyes and knowing the male I love hates me, for good reason, and I will never have the opportunity to change his mind—hurts really bad.
So, I keep my distance and just watch. If he needs my help, I’ll leap in. If he doesn’t, I’ll leave him to wallow in his own delusions.
Rev is nearly halfway to the mountain range when something massive shifts up ahead, over a hundred yards off our trajectory but close enough that my stomach sinks. “Oh shit,” the wraith says.
I stop, breath caught in my throat. A roaring beast, at least triple the size of a bear but with a distinctively similar gait, charges forward.
Straight toward Rev.
