Page 35 of Wicked Dove
Swinging my knee up, blindly, I hope for impact, and it’s confirmed when a grunt vibrates through the air a moment later.
Bleary-eyed, I gape down at my attacker and find Kael’s friend rolling around on the ground as he grunts in pain.
He glares up at me in disbelief. “What the fuck, Elodie?” he snaps, sighing heavily before he pushes to his feet.
My heart pounds in my chest as I fold my arms defensively. My vision is not back to one hundred percent, but I still manage to glare at him. “Maybe don't sneak up on people like that,” I hiss, still struggling to calm the panic in my chest as he runs a hand through his hair.
“Is that how you react when everyone comes up behind you?” He smirks, but it's not funny.
“When they grab my waist without my knowledge or permission, yeah.”
It's a funny thing, trauma. I was okay when I first met Kael, and he grabbed my wrist. I didn't really see him coming, just like now, but my waist is an entirely different matter altogether.
Staring off with one another, my heart refuses to slow down as I try to calm myself. “What's your name?” I ask, reluctantly, aware that he's not going anywhere anytime soon.
“Oh, now you want to know?” he muses, and I roll my eyes.
“Rion,” he states, and I sigh.
“Why are you here, Rion?”
He cocks a brow at me. “I should be asking you the same question.”
Turning my attention away from him, I shrug. “Exploring.”
It’s all I have to offer, and he snickers. “Of course.”
Feeling defeated, I glance at him from the corner of my eye, watching as he slips his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Well, I don't think you'll be leaving today, Petal,” he states, and I frown.
“Petal?”
“Are you going to walk back with me or in front of me?” he asks once, ignoring my question.
“Neither.”
“Why?” The curl to his lips tells me he knows why; he just wants me to say it.
“Because I'm leaving.” There’s no point in lying about it.
His smile grows. “I thought you were exploring?”
“Yeah, my exit,” I reply, and he sighs.
“I can't let that happen, Elodie.”
Of course not.
I try to tamp down the rage and irritation coiling through my veins and fail. “And why is that?” I ask, even though I don’t care about the answer.
“Because my friend is literally alive because of you, which means every move you make impacts him.”
Irritated, I try to redirect the situation onto him. “Wait, why areyouout here?”
He shrugs. “Because you are.”
I gape in disbelief, taking a step back. “Were you following me?”
He ignores me as he points over his shoulder toward the exit of Institute Twelve. “At my side or in front?” he repeats, and a knot forms in my stomach, making it abundantly clear that I have no chance of getting my way right now.
