Page 77 of A Drop of Anguish
Tears threaten to stream down my cheeks at the overwhelming sense of rejection I feel even thinking those words.
Janet gently squeezes my hand. “I think—I think I would have done the same thing. But have you thought about this from Jarron’s perspective?”
“Of course I have,” I whisper. I hate it. I hate that it’s hurting him.
“All the way through? Just think about this: let’s say all of what we know is true—though, I have a feeling there’s missing information. We can’t fully understand the details of another world’s culture, especially since this is such a unique and important element of it. But let’s work through what we do know. Jarron imprinted on a human at a young age, and they were separated for various reasons.”
“Me,” I blurt out. “I’m the reason they were separated.”
I stare at the off-white, worn carpet. If Liz had known back then that the handsome prince wanted her as his mate, she would have fallen into his arms in a nanosecond, even after he’d hurt her. I’m the one who pulled them apart.
“I have to imagine that’s fairly normal for demons,” she says softly. “From what I understand, demons rarely mate within their own species, and you said it’s one-sided. The chosen mate has no idea, right? No feelings, no draw, nothing?”
“So far as I know.”
“I’ve never heard of demons regularly mating before adulthood. It’s always been implied that Trevor and Bea are exceptions. I think either Jarron imprinted earlier than usual or it’s entirely common for there to be a gap while the demon waits for their mate to be ready.”
I blink. “That would be rather polite of them.”
Her smile is amused but still so gentle. “I’m just speculating, obviously, but if earning your chosen is a sacred rite of passage, then demons don’t want to just force a claim or manipulate their chosen into commitment. They lure them in slowly, become everything they need, before they reveal their intentions. Demons are all about the chase, like other supernaturals, but their mates are precious. The bonds are intense and emotional. You don’t get that by a quick claiming. Especially since you also say they can’t speak about their chosen until they’ve been accepted. The idea is toearnthem.”
“Get to the part where you agree with me.” Lola places her hands on her hips.
“Right. Well, Jarron imprinted and had to wait a few years for his chance to woo his chosen. But before he could, Liz was killed. His chosen is gone, no chance for him to ever experience that sacred cultural rite. He’s devastated, even though he likely never had any real feelings for her beyond the instincts pushing him to her.” She sucks in a long breath to keep going.
“But then, Candice shows up, seeking justice for Liz. Jarron obviously jumps right on board, and they become allies and friends. He falls in love with her naturally, organically. But then, the evil villain of the story exposes the truth about his chosen, and Candice pushes him away because of it. So, now, he’s lost his ability to ever earn a chosen and because of that loss, he loses the woman he loves. He loses all of it.”
My stomach aches. Sadness and guilt are not a good combination. I lie back on the ground and stare up at the dusty tiles. “So, should I take him back out of pity, then?” I grumble bitterly.
“No, of course not. I’m just saying, this whole situation is unfair, and you have one person to blame for it. It’s not you. It’s not Jarron. It’s not Liz.”
I blink. The pain is still swirling around, but my mind turns sharp. Yes, anger is a much better emotion to focus on. “It’s Mr. Vandozer.”
33
Hot As Hell
“Are you all right?” Thompson asks, his hand lingering on the shiny silver door handle.
“Nope.” I wring my hands awkwardly. I breathe in deeply through my nose, unsure what to expect.
Lola nuzzles into my neck. “You got this, babe.”
“And you look hot as hell.” Janet grins.
My lips lift, despite myself. I’m wearing black shorts, a simple red tank with black boots, and dark eye makeup that Janet helped me with. They even convinced me to ditch the bandage today, meaning I’m sporting the wolf bite out in the open. Though, I did add on a choker necklace with a star charm that partially veils the embarrassing mark.
I’m not quite as overt as some of these other girls in tiny skirts, corset tops, and cat ears, but I do feel kind of hot, and that’s all that really matters.
Lola is in a pretty purple dress that shows off her legs beneath a handkerchief skirt, and Janet is in jeans and a cute floral top. She didn’t want to get too dressed up since she’s planning to make an appearance at the Major Hall party after, and as much as it’s fun that she’s been to an Elite party, she doesn’t want too much attention for it. Major Hall is much more casual, apparently.
Janet twists her arm in mine and squeezes tightly. I take in their comfort then pull armor over my heart and nod to Thompson. He pushes the door open, and the heavy music and bright lights pour into the hall.
We all step into Jarron’s bedroom together, which has apparently become a rave. Heavy bass music, with a slow rhythm, pulses and pounds through the room. It’s dark, but there are slow flashes of red, green, and purple lights matching the rhythm of the music.
It’s so strange being in here again, and even stranger how different it feels.
The layout is all the same as the last time I was here. The four-poster bed with black sheets to the right, several armchairs and a couch surrounding a flickering fireplace. A table with four chairs in the other corner. A whole wall of glass, showcasing the large patio with a flickering fire table.
