Page 45 of Change
“Only recently.” I should apologize but couldn’t bring myself to say the words. This was a normal part of shifter culture, and I refused to be ashamed of it. “I didn’t expect it. But it started when we walked through the forest together looking for Miles. I wasn’t sure how to tell you with everything else that was going on.”
The spark ebbed from her fiery expression, turning to thoughtfulness. “So, you heard what I was thinking about your wings?”
White pain laced through my back, along the phantom limb. I’d been born with that memory, and it replayed over again—the tearing of skin as if the moment had just happened. This time I was the one who pulled back, dropping her hands, realizing a second too late how my reaction could be taken.
She blinked rapidly, the lines of her face softening as her eyes lowered to the table. “S-sorry.”
“No.” I shrugged my shoulders, brushing away the memory. It’d lingered throughout all these lives, and I should have been used to it, but the injury would never heal. Even after being reborn into new forms.
But that was because, as Damen stated, it wasn’t really an injury at all.
It was a curse. A reminder of the time I’d failed to protect the one who mattered most.
Bianca, more than anyone else in the world, had the right to ask about it.
“Don’t be sorry.” I closed my hands over hers before she could shut me out completely. “It’s just not a pleasant memory.”
“Sorry,” she said again. I’d almost rather she be angry at me.
“Stop. You had nothing to do with it.” I was lying, already breaking the promise I’d just made to myself seconds before, but I’d rather her not take on that burden right now. “It was something that happened a long time ago.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “What else did you hear?” she asked, changing the subject.
I was thankful for the diversion, but that also went against her curious nature. Hopefully she wasn’t holding back because she was afraid of my reaction.
However, right now I would take it.
“You were thinking a few hilarious things about Miles,” I began, my spirits lifting at the memory of her inner dialogue. “And that you liked my plaid.”
“I do not…” Bianca began to protest, but at my raised eyebrow she stopped, her face reddening. “Fine, maybe I like the plaida little.”
“You’re overly concerned with the nature of my work.”
Her eyes shone in embarrassment. “It could be dangerous!”
“And I know you’re a woman with standards,” I offered. “So you have no intentionof askingme half the things you want.”
“Oh my God.” This time I didn’t stop her from snatching her hands away, and she covered her face.
“Thepointis—” I pressed my foot against hers. I waited for her to peek at me through the gaps between her fingers before I continued. “—we’re eventually not going to beableto keep secrets from each other.” It pained me to admit it, but it was true. “Even if we wanted to.”
She was silent for a moment before she added, “But we shouldn’t want to,” in a near whisper.
“No.” My heartbeat was loud in my ears. “We shouldn’t. We should always be honest about what we feel.”
Bianca wasn’t the only one that was headed into unfamiliar, and uncomfortable, territory.
The room grew louder around us, and the air colder. The waitress came then, taking our orders with a familiar professionalism that helped calm myracingthoughts.
We’d all kept our own secrets—a burden that became heavier with every rebirth as we regained the memories of our past lives. Bianca, to my knowledge, hadn’t even gotten close to uncovering the depth of hers.
But as for me…
“I’m afraid to have sex,” Bianca blurted out, staring hard at my hands.
I jerked back, blinking at her.What in the world…
“I’m telling you my secret, since you wanted honesty.” She was trembling, hands pressed into her lap, but pressed forward. “So that’s what you can expect.”
