Page 68 of Shadows of Nightshade
“I was just thinking…” I began, touching my fingertips to my bottom lip. I should have never challenged him, but it’d been so hard to ignore his baiting. “Do you think he’s angry?”
“Bryce?” Damen asked, eyebrow raising. “He’s not angry.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is it because he has no emotions?”
“No…” Damen replied. “Bryce has emotions. Almost too many—sometimes, it makes him act without thinking. He’s just good at hiding them.”
I was right then, initially. There had to be a reason for his attention. “So he hates me.”
It was why he’d targeted me from day one, and why he wouldn’t look away from me in class. I hadn’t imagined his disdain.
“He doesn’t hate you—at least, not from what I can tell,” Damen replied. He looked over my shoulder at the building behind me. “He probably thinks you’re interesting. I believe he just wants to get to know you better.”
“I’m interesting?” I shifted my weight between my feet. That didn’t sound good. The word ‘interesting’ could be used to describe only the most horrible of science experiments.
Or it also could be an adjective to describe, maybe, a potential mate.
Either option did not sound promising.
“He’s not my type,” I said. It was essential that Damen understand this. “I won’t go out with him.”
Damen’s musing daydream shattered, and he frowned. “I wouldn’t expect you to anyway,” he said, hurriedly—almost too quickly, in fact.
I wrinkled my nose. That was more than a bit offensive; I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t entertain the idea, at the very least. I wasn’t the worst catch in the world.
“Stop doing that or your face will get stuck that way.” Damen placed his hand on my head. I narrowed my eyes as my hackles rose. How dare he treat me like a child. “You’re too good for him.”
My heart fluttered as my breath released. Me. Too good for Bryce Dubois?
How could it be that, with one sentence, Damen had the ability to melt through my emotions? Why couldn’t I stay angry at him?
“Besides,” he continued, “ you two are too alike to date. You’d murder each other.”
I gasped and pushed my hand to my chest. What lies and scandal. He pretended that I hadn’t reacted, though, and walked away.
I had no time to be offended. I had to run to catch up with him lest I be abandoned.
“What?” Whatever could he mean by that horrible accusation? I had nothing in common with Bryce Dubois, my mortal enemy.
“Do you even know why you hate him?” Damen asked, distracting me from what was sure to be a colorful internal rant. “Usually fae are naturally inclined to respect him. Does he make you feel threatened?” His words were nonchalant, as was his lazy posture, but there was a heaviness to his question that made me feel as though he was paying very, very close attention to my words.
“Yes,” I grumbled, crossing my arms. Of course, I was protecting myself against the cold—I wasn’t feeling defensive. There was no reason to be. “He undermines me.”
“Really?” Damen tilted his head, sounding genuinely curious. “How so?”
I opened my mouth but found that, under immediate pressure, I couldn’t put my feelings into words. The same thing happened when Finn asked a similar question.
Yet, how could I describe that initial impression between Bryce and me?
I began the class only having heard positive rumors about my biology professor’s assistant. Bryce was supposed to be a brilliant botanist, and very dependable. I’d hoped we could at least get along. And since I’d heard his research aligned with my own interests, I’d hoped that maybe we’d even work together, eventually.
He sounded like a good person to get to know.
The class started. On that first day, he lurked in the corner of the room while Professor Hamway went through introductions and reviewed the syllabus. He seemed decent enough,albeit a bit bored. I was bored too. I thought he might not be so bad.
Then he looked at me.
Our eyes met, and my blood chilled. There was no curiosity or even warmth in his gaze.
