Page 35 of The Barbaric Fae's Soul

“I think if that makes you a bad person, you should embrace the title. I’ve already fantasized about doing far worse to that man, and I don’t even know what he looks like.”

My lips curved upward sadly. “I tried to get away from him, a few days before I made the wish and got brought here. I didn’t stab him—I slipped away. But a friend I thought I could trust had warned him, and he was waiting for me. He hurt me, worse than ever before.”

I continued, my words coming out faster as I did. “I was in the hospital when the fae came for me. He was talking to the nurse—acting like the perfect boyfriend. He’d told them that I was mugged, and they bought it. Or at least pretended to. I looked at the clock, and it was 11:11, and I wished with every fiber of my being that I wouldn’t make it to 11:12. And then the portal opened, and the Wild Hunt grabbed me. My eyes met my ex’s as the guys took me through that portal, and the relief I felt was just… everything.” Tears leaked down my cheeks as I told the story, but I didn’t try to wipe them away.

Aev’s fingers had paused on my back.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I’ve never even told Summer this before,” I confessed. “But I didn’t wish for another chance at life—I wished for death, Aev. I don’t deserve to be here. Ineverdeserved to be here. Not when there are other people who would’ve fought harder or wanted it more. That’s why I put so much effort into staying positive—because I owe everyone else whodoesdeserve to be here. I don’t even know what kind of person it makes me, to have wished for that.”

Aev was silent for a moment. It was only a heartbeat, but it felt like a century. “It makes you a drelae, Dakota. Beautiful, and fragile, with long, thorny vines.”

I snorted, tears dripping on Aev’s pillow, now. “Please. Maybe I’m a drelae without the flower part. Just a bunch of thorny vines.”

He laughed quietly. “Maybe I should call you Thorns, then.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation a few moments ago, my lips stretched in a soft grin. “Thorns? What a compliment.”

“Itisa compliment. Your thorns make you strong.” He resumed tracing the shape of my markings.

It occurred to me, then, the difference between Aev and my ex. Aev and I weren’t together—not really. But while my ex had always wanted me to be weaker, and smaller, and quieter, Aev just wanted me strong.

And I wondered if maybe, at the end of the day, that’s what love was supposed to be like.

“We should probably get up so you can train some more,” I admitted.

“Probably,” he agreed.

But neither of us moved.

And my lips curved upward again, just a little.

Ten

Aev resumed tracing my marking,and my thoughts quieted. My body had been completely and utterly relaxed before we talked about everything, but now, I was kind of keyed up.

“How much of your back does your marking cover?” he asked me, sounding almost absent-minded. He stiffened as soon as the words were out. “Sorry. I don’t mean to push.”

“You don’t need to apologize; that’s not pushy. If you ordered me to rip my shirt off or ripped it off for me, that would be pushy. But in the right situation, maybe a little sexy too.”

He laughed—a deep belly laugh, one I’d never heard from him. And that laugh made me grin, widely. “Sexy, huh?”

“Sure. Give it a try, I bet you could do it right.”

He laughed again—this time, a little bit in disbelief. “I’m not ripping your shirt off, Thorns.”

My grin widened.

I probably shouldn’t have, but I loved the nickname. I’d been Dakota, and I’d been Dots—but I sure as hell had never been anything nearly as badass asThorns.

“I gave you two options. A command would work too.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, laughter in his voice still.

“Well, I’m the one who walked in on you jerking off. I’m pretty sure you owe me a lot of discomfort to make up for that one,” I teased. “And I already offered, so obviously this one’s on me.”

“I suppose that’s a valid point.” He grew quiet for a moment.

My humor faded in the silence, and I started to wonder if I’d made him uncomfortable. That hadn’t been my intention—and he’d seemed playful, hadn’t he?

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