Page 100 of Shadows of Nightshade
Maybe that meant I’d flashed four men tonight instead of five. That was marginally better, but not by much.
My focus returned to Damen since he was impossible to ignore. A battle raged in his stern features, and the fire vanished from his eyes as he finally swallowed. Whatever question he’d meant to ask, he abandoned and smiled instead.
“I’m proud of you.” His voice was shaky but sincere.
I stared back at him. What could I possibly have done to make him proud?
And how did I do it again?
“I might not understand your reasons yet,” Damen explained. “But I’m sure you followed your instincts. It must have been difficult to do that, especially since it meant standing against me. I’m proud of you,” he repeated.
So… to please him, I had to do the exact opposite of everything he wanted?
My heartbeat began to relax at this promising news. I could do that.
But then Damen reached for me—his hesitance was clear, but the motion was still startling—and I flinched. I felt guilty as soon as it happened. It was ridiculous and insane for me to be afraid of him. He’d already proven that he wouldn’t hurt me. I knew this.
But…
My emotions were reeling, and the atmosphere remained concentrated with the energy of both spirits that I’d encountered tonight.
Then Damen asked me the strangest question.
“Where were you?”
It was so unexpected and confusing that I blinked out of my stupor.
“What-what do you mean?” I asked, uncovering my face.
Was he in a weird mood again? Obviously, I’d been here the whole time.
“Your whole life,” he clarified. “Where did you go?”
How was I supposed to reply? I didn’t keep track of every address. Had he forgotten I didn’t even know where I was born?
What did he want from me? “Er,” I began.
But he must have noticed my confusion and moved to his knees. His brows were furrowed in rapt concentration. “Hold on,”he grunted as I sat back, alarmed. And before I could run away, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugged it up over his head in such haste that his glasses were knocked askew.
And with that small action, my panic returned.
“What’s going on?” I covered my face again. In no universe did I ever wish to witness Damen stripping. “Why are you getting naked?”
There was no need for us all to lose our clothing.
“Just look at me!” he shamelessly pleaded for me to ogle him. Or perhaps it was I who held dishonorable intentions because I couldn’t stop myself from peeking. “I have a mark too,” he pointed.
Everyone was watching the spectacle that was Damen and I, and I almost felt embarrassed for him until I, playing along, followed the line of his finger.
“Hey!” I closed the distance between us, crawling, as I reached out. I wasn’t even thinking as I touched my pointer finger to the tiny crimson lines at the bottom of Damen’s left pectoral. “That looks like mine.”
I couldn’t help but to study it. They really did look alike, sans some slight differences. For example, the symbol was different, and where the brand under my left breast glimmered a sickly sage green, Damen’s was crimson and bright. And when I touched it—
The thumb-print-sized mark hummed under my fingertips, pulsing in time with every beat of my heart. Was his a birthmark too? Or was there a secret club I didn’t know about—or remember—that gave these things away?
Because I had no memory of any time in my life without it. This symbol was a part of me, a living thing that changed in sensation and touch throughout different stages of my life.
I didn’t understand.
