Page 55 of Balance
I just needed a moment for myself; to try to compose myself. Because I had no idea what just happened.
“Wait.” Damen’s hand closed around my upper arm. His voice was softer now, uncertain. “What do you mean?”
I glanced back at him, a lock of my hair falling over my face in the movement, but I didn’t even have the energy to push the thick curls away. I pulled his fingers off my arm, unable to see past the clouds blurring my vision. “I don’t know.”
His grip slackened, and I stumbled forward, barely making it into the tent and zipping it up behind me before wetness trailed down my cheeks.
There was a faint murmuring from outside the tent. I huddled in the corner, face pressed in my knees, as I waited to see who would be the first to intrude.
But, as the moments passed, the noises died down and there was nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Damen
Wounds
I’d gone too far. The first time was on the drive up, when I’d chastised Bianca for doingexactlywhat I’d wanted to begin with. I’d been stupid, the weight of needing to impress her conflicted with the comfortable familiarity that should have been my relationship with Mu.
But as Bianca said, she wasn’t Mu.
Not yet.
I pressed my face further into my crossed forearms, barely even feeling the warmth of the too-close fire. Everything had gotten so fucked up, and it was entirely my fault.
Mu always pointed out my faults, my weaknesses. I should have been used to this.
So why was it so hard to swallow my pride withher?
All I wanted was to impress her, to take care of her. And she didn’t reject it entirely.
But we never had this dynamic between us before. I had no idea how to handle her.
“As much as it pains me to say this, you could always just beyourself,” Julian said.
I glanced up, startled. I wasn’t aware I’d spoken my last thought—or what I’d hoped was only my last thought—out loud.
Julian sat across the firepit, angrily poking a sharpened stick into the flames. His ferocity reminded me of how once, in a past life, he’d tried to stab me in the heart. We’d, thankfully, gotten over our rivalry and moved on like responsible adults. I was glad we were civil now. The necromancer sometimes gave wise counsel.
Not as good as Miles, who was the reason we were here, or Bianca, who was the cause of my current distress. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Myself?” I clarified, unsure I’d heard correctly.
“Not yourusualself.” Julian gritted his teeth, stabbing at the base of the fire even harder—I wasn’t even sure what he hoped to accomplish, there was nothing on that stick. “For the love of God, do not be your usual self. Why can’t you just swallow your pride and be honest for once? You know she hates theatrics.”
“She likes it when I take care of her, and flirting.” She said so herself.
Julian rolled his eyes, tossing the now orange stick to the side and snatching another from the ground. With gritted teeth, he flipped open his pocketknife, angrily swiping at the edges of his newest acquisition. “Forsome reason, she says she likes it—”
“She does like it,” I interrupted. “She blushes.”
“—but you still need to tone it down. I’ve told you this before.”
“But—”
“You made her angry,” Titus interjected, moving his forearm from his face. He’d been lounging silently on the ground, arms covering his eyes until now. “Great job.”
“Sheneededto get angry.” I frowned at him. “Otherwise she was going to internalize her emotions until she made herself sick. She finally admits to what happened to her. Now it’s time to move past avoidance.”
