Page 112 of Forged in Rain

Once inside, I make a beeline for the bathroom and lock myself inside. This party is shit. I don’t know what I was thinking, but now I’d rather be at the Point.

Nothing feels the same without Cyn, and it’s this that fucks with my head the most. How do I replace someone who made me feel alive?

I don’t.

But better he lives to see another day with some new chick under his arm. Gah.

Annoyed at myself for agreeing to this, I wash my hands and head back toward the party where I proceed to zone out. I don’t fucking care what these shits have to say. Unless it’s something along the lines of,I can get you out of the mess you’re in.

Absently, I scratch my neck, but a tingle remains, and I swing my head toward a guy standing a few feet away. He’s alone, which is weird, and staring at me brazenly. I stare back, but it doesn’t faze him, and with a trickle of unease, I look away but see he’s still watching me. Hmm.

With a shiver, I pull my coat closer, frowning when Rand puts his arm around me again. “You cold, baby?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, shrugging him off.

He turns to me with a smirk, but I spy a commotion over his shoulder and gasp.

Cyn is fucking here. Here!

He stalks toward me with a wicked snarl on his face, his green eyes lit up with rage, and I falter. Shit.

Need surges through me so savagely, I visibly tremble as Rand turns at my look and steps back.

Cyn gets off one good punch before Bastion appears behind him and grabs his arm, but he shakes him off and leans into my face.

“What are you doing?” Cyn says between clenched teeth.

Raising my chin, I say shakily, “Partying.”

“Is that right? What the hell is going on, Rain.”

My chest clenches at the use of my name, and I take a deep breath before turning away. This is stupid.

I vowed to let him go, and now I’m baiting him?

I don’t get far on my trek before Cyn lifts me up and carries me down the side of the house.

Dropping my head, I sigh because I may have been telling myself to let him go, but this is exactly what I wanted. I want him to want me.

I just wish I didn’t have to fake being with someone else to get him to react. Dick.

Once we’re out of view of the others, he drops me and steps back. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, partying. What are you doing?” I say.

His nostrils flare, and his brows slam over his eyes. “This is how it is? I’m busting my ass for you, and you’re fucking partying with him?”

Sucking in a breath, I remind myself of what’s at stake and poke him in the chest. I need him to back off before it all goes haywire.

“Are you?” I say. “Because it doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing!”

“Are you fucking kidding me, beauty? I can’t fucking breathe! What am I supposed to do? Veah—”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I bow my head.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“What?” he barks.

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