Page 48 of A Drop of Anguish
“It’s not really my business, I know.”
“It’s all right. I’d want to know too if it were the other way around.”
He pauses, staring down at his sleeve. “Would it bother you? If I—”
“Yes.” Maybe that was too honest, but it’s true. I’d be flipping out. That’s part of what makes all of this so unfair. I recognize that. I have legitimate feelings for him. I wish really, really hard that things were different. And it sucks that it’s hurting him too.
But I can’t live the rest of my life knowing that if my sister were here, if Mr. Vandozer hadn’t manipulated her into the Akrasia Games, she’d be with Jarron. He’d be devoted to her. Kissing her. Touching her. Protecting her.
It makes me sick to my stomach to even consider the possibility.
I don’t know why it matters so much, but it does. Maybe if it weren’t my sister. Maybe if I didn’t know her. There’s just something so icky about it beingLiz. Maybe I’ve got some kind of complex about my sister I haven’t worked out yet. Or maybe it’s just the fact that if I were to give in to Jarron, to be happy with him, then I’d begin to feel grateful my sister is dead.
That’s not something I ever want to feel, and I don’t trust myself enough not to.
“I wouldn’t stop you or anything,” I say. “If you wanted to date someone else, but yeah, it would hurt.”
His brow crinkles, and his jaw clenches. He remains that way for the next several moments, like he’s thinking over several things. I watch him. And soon my eyes are wandering places they shouldn’t, like the slope of his shoulder, the skin of his chest exposed by his loose top two buttons. His folded-up sleeves, exposing muscled forearms. The silver rings on his long fingers, and the veins on his hands.
I blink and look back up to find Jarron’s focused stare on me.
“Did I scare you?”
The breath freezes in my lungs. “What?”
“Yesterday. I changed in front of you. Did I—”
“No,” I whisper, back straightening quickly. I mean, yes, sort of, but not in the way he’s implying. I wet my lips absently. He watches my every move closely. “I don’t fear you.”
“Then, what do you feel?” The muscles of his forearms flex.
I turn away to cover my reddening cheeks. “I’m ready to go whenev—”
He grabs my upper arm and pulls me to face him. I suck in a breath, shocked at the sudden change. His movements are almost feline, slow and smooth, as he shifts his body closer to mine.
My heart picks up speed, and my stomach flutters.
His body is still human, except for his sharp gaze and his mannerisms. I swallow. Is his demon in control while he’s human?
“You’re hiding something, bright one,” his voice echoes slightly.
I rip my arm from his grip and retreat a step. That is most certainlynotJarron.
I watch in absolute fascination and only a drop of fear as he tilts his head, like a curious animal. I’ve spoken with his demon before, but not like this. Not mid-conversation.
“Do you truly fear me?” he drawls. “Or is that a falsehood used to hide something else?”
When I say nothing, he takes a slow step closer.
“You do scare me, but not in the same way as before,” I finally say.
He stops, examining me with those eternal eyes.“In what way?”
I blink. How do I explain without admitting that the things I feel are good, not bad? Because if I admit that I’m kind of, sort of into it, how do I keep him from convincing me to take him back?
“If it were up to me, bright one, I’d track down every wolf within a hundred miles and slaughter them. If it were up to me, I’d wipe out that gh’atan pack for good.” His voice rumbles with power. “I want to kill something, anything, because of what they did to you.”
My next breath trembles.
