Either Goldie doesn’t catch his blatant red lights, or more likely she doesn’t care. “I thought Weres couldn’t stand to be far from their packs for long? I’ve heard all kinds of crazy theories about it being a social co-dependence thing. That Weres have a physical bond that doesn’t allow them to stray too far from the pack or they will literally die.” She laughs at the last bit. “Seems no one knows much about it.”
My finger hovers over the brew button, as I’ve completely frozen. Asking a fae about the inner workings of their clan, pack, or whatever group they are a part of is considered rude. But Goldie doesn’t care. She’s going straight for the jugular, and fear grips me that he will go for hers. Maybe literally.
But underneath my fear is a burning curiosity to hear his answer.
“It’s the second,” Brexley says in a quiet voice. His forearms still rest on his thighs, but his hands grip together in a tight fist that causes taut muscle to pull along his exposed forearms.
“What’s that?” Goldie says, taken aback.
“It’s the second thing you said. The bond is a lifeline that gives strength to the pack. Should a Were be cut off or exiled from the pack, they usually die within a matter of months. As would most humans if they were plucked from all of humanity and set on a frozen tundra by themselves.”
Don’t ask it. For fae lords sake, don’t ask the question, Goldie.
“Were you exiled from your pack, Brexley?”
As desperate as I am to know the answer myself, I can’t let this go on. I hate when someone tries to dig into my past and from the look on Brexley’s face it looks like he feels the exact same.
I smash the brew button and quickly cross to sit on the arm of the reading chair. I’m careful not to touch Brexley, but I give the appearance of the doting girlfriend at his side. “Since I’m staying in town after all, I’m going to work the weekend with you guys at the bar. I could use the money anyway.”
What Ineedis time to study my ass off for my finals this upcoming week. But what I need even more right now is to stop this conversation. Maybe if they know they’ll see me later tonight they will leave now.
I could handle the situation if it was just myself, but Brexley made everything . . . complicated. He won't be allowed back in the Poison Apple now that he’d outed himself.
On the television, I recognize Everett Silber, a telekinetic. He stares at the camera with earnest sincerity, not bothering to push away the stray golden hair that frames his handsome face.
My gut flops like a slimy fish out of water. I attended the academy with him. On the show, he’s portrayed as one of the more sensitive personas, America’s sweetheart. But all I remember is how Everett would rearrange my locker from the inside so all my books would collapse on my head when I opened it. And when I started carrying all my books around with me to avoid the prank, he’d put extra pressure on my backpack, making it so heavy it would force me to my knees. Then he would laugh with his buddies as they traipsed away.
I lick my lips and fiddle with my nose ring, reminding myself I’m not that girl anymore. Here, I’m not some loser dud who can’t defend herself. But no matter that I got piercings, a wardrobe update and a tattoo on my upper thigh, even the sight of Silber makes me feel like that girl again.
I need my friends out of the apartment.Now. Before Brexley or I ruin everything.
Goldie frowns at my offer to help at work. “The bar is super busy, but you should—”
“—definitely help us out,” Cinder finishes for her.
Goldie shoots her a glare, but Cinder is unphased.
Sitting on the arm of the chair, electricity and heat practically sizzles off Brexley’s body, drilling into mine. After fighting an Ogre and shifting, his scent is more powerful than before. I wish I could say it was like wet dog or something equally off-putting, but no. The gall of this sonofabitch to engulf me in a masculine scent close to that of sex, along with an underlying pine and spice . . . I cross one leg over the other as heat and liquid race to my core. The temptation to reach out to him becomes almost painful.
“Perfect.” I clap my hands together to keep from touching Brexley. “And like I said, Goldie, since I’m back, you don’t have to watch the buns for me anymore. But you are an absolute saint for treating them and bringing coffee.” And I mean it. Having true friends has been life-changing, and I never want to take that for granted.
She grumbles a ‘you’re welcome’ but she clearly knows I’m shutting down the conversation and doesn’t like it.
Cinder sets her empty cup on the coffee table and stands, “We’ll see you tonight then.” The look she gives Goldie might as well be a dozen needle jabs to get her ass off the couch.
“Right,” Goldie says, standing as well. Then her face brightens as she turns to Brexley. “I’ll talk to Rap, our boss, and explain how you were defending Red from that douche pickle and make it okay for you to come hang out with us tonight. And then we can chat more.” The hunger in her eyes is bottomless.
I love my friend, and how she throws herself into things and attacks everything with exuberance. But nothing could have prepared me for this level of protective meddling. If I weren’t trying to keep so many secrets under wraps, I might be enjoying this kind of love and attention. But there is too much at stake. My new life suddenly feels set up on strands of delicate sugar that are oh so breakable. If I just gut through whatever this thing is for a little while longer, I’m sure it will all blow over. And I can just live my life how I want to.
Before I can answer that Brexley won’t be coming tonight, he jumps in.
“Sounds good, I appreciate that.”
In lieu of glaring at him, I grind my teeth.
Goldie blows us a kiss. “Fantastic. See you both tonight!”
With that, she and Cinder make their exit. As soon as the door shuts, I fall to the couch like a collapsing star. “That was intense.”
