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He bent down. His breath swept across my mouth, sending goosebumps up my skin. “Stop thinking about me,” he whispered. “I told you why I was here, and it’s not for anything other than getting you home.”
He can hear what I’m thinking?
My gaze dropped to his snarl and up to his dark onyx-colored eyes.
We were both screwed.
Chapter Seventeen
Kellan
This has been the longest day of my entire life.
Not only was I being led through this hellish realm by a faerie and carrying an unconscious woman, but her spirit was thinking ungodly things about me, and I felt like I would combust at any moment.
How did I hear her thoughts? Beat the hell out of me. It seemed to be a new perk of being an immortal that I’d rather not have.
The strength it took me not to lay her unconscious body down and push her against a tree rivaled anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
Part of me felt the need to give my body what it asked for. The rational side that lived deep down still said my wife’s name like a mantra. It’d been too many years to count. Josephine was the first one to ever get a spark out of me.
The battle between wanting her and hating her was ongoing. It sucked the breath out of me sometimes.
She felt the same invisible connection as I did. Josephine had images going through her head that startled me, and I’d been around for a long time. It fed the spark I hid deep inside of me, and I felt one second away from breaking.
The day had turned into dusk when the faerie stopped in the middle of a clearing in the woods. “We should stop for the night.”
I inwardly groaned. “I didn’t realize this person lived on the other side of the universe,” I snapped.
She lowered her head. I felt like a prick. She’d been pimped out and pushed around. I didn’t need to add to her insecurities.
“Good things come to those who wait,” Josephine piped in.
The faerie seemed to like her and smiled her way. Josephine sat down against the base of a giant tree and watched as I laid her body down. The loss of her weight in my arms nearly made me stumble from carrying her so long, but I caught myself and sank down beside her.
The faerie sat down beside Josephine and cradled her knees to her chest. “Would you like to sing a song?” she asked.
I cut my gaze to her and over to Josephine’s smiling face.
There wasn’t anything worse than singing at this moment.
“No,” I answered. “I would not like to do that.”
Josephine rolled her eyes at me. “Gah, you’re such a grouch, Anti-hero. Yes—wait, what’s your name?”
“Fern,” she said softly.
“Yes, Fern,” Josephine said. “I’d love to sing a song.”
Fern looked excited about singing and sat up on her knees. “There is a song that my mother sang to me growing up.”
She started in on this whiney song that I had no urge to listen to, so I closed my eyes, and within seconds, I fell asleep.
When I made it two miles to our house, I knew something wasn’t right.
I didn’t hear any laughter from the town's children or chatter. The quietness of the birds and wildlife slid over me like a weighted blanket.
I played it off in my mind. They were having a late lunch inside. My girls were eating. I smiled to reassure the feeling deep in my stomach. I was only a few miles away from seeing my girls.
