There’s just one thing I need to take care of first.
“So, Wynn—"
“Escaping works best in silence," he says. "Is there something really important you need to say? Like you hate my shoes?"
"No…" I stop to consider the question, but Wynn's already getting further away. "Well, actually, I don't remember what your shoes look like. I was too distracted by the cloak of ugliness."
“You’re going to do this now?” Iggy's disapproving comment comes from above my right ear where he flies along next to me.
Truth be told, our great escape isn't the best time to lay all the cards on the table. But Wynn's going to be pissed when he finds out the truth, and once this potion wears off, I will become very punchable.
“This potion will wear off soon,” I whisper. “He might kick my ass.”
Wynn's location is a mystery, but it's somewhere in the darkness to my right instead of the black void to my left. He's heard enough of the conversation to mutter, "What about your ass?"
"It's a great ass," I tell him without missing a beat. "Have you had a chance to check it out yet?"
"Escaping works much better in silence," he reminds me pointedly.
"I'm just saying, we were face to face while I was in the cell. Maybe you missed it. You should really take a look while you can."
The soft footfalls up ahead stop short. "While I can?"
"Yeah,” I say. Here it comes. “Trust me, I'm grateful for your assistance and all, but I just think it's best if we split up sooner rather than later. No reason to draw this out, right?”
The whole forest around us goes quiet and still. No sound from Wynn either. Where's he hiding?
Then comes the stomp of angry werewolf steps, and his eyes flash a glowing amber color—the only light in the dark for a heart-stopping second—I’m not even ashamed to be super grateful he can't kick my ass right now.
"That's what you think?" he hisses. "That's what you think?"
"Yes?"
"You selfish bastard," he snarls, swinging a right hook that passes through me harmlessly.
"Still think I chose the wrong time?" I murmur to Iggy. Wynn swings again, but I'm not worried. "That's not going to work."
He doesn't let logic stop him. "Well, I'll keep punching until it does."
"You were saying something about better uses for our time? Running away?" I remind him.
"You were lying, weren't you?" he asks softly. Oof. He sounds so miserable I almost want the punching back. "When you said we were mates?"
"Well, um—stop that," I say when he swings again. "I wasn't lying! Though there are other options. Do you often see things no one else does? Are you a psychic, a medium, or demonic? Do you have any connection to the underworld?"
He doesn't swing again, though he doesn't sound happy. "You didn't mention those other options before."
"Do any of those options fit?" I ask, not denying that I left something out. Best to avoid cold feet about helping me. And all the other possible explanations feel like a long shot.
"No," he says quietly, confirming what I already suspected. "None of those things apply to me."
"Then us being mates is the most likely option.” A 'gift' I never asked for from the cosmic, annoying forces of the universe. I may be an asshole, but not that much of an asshole to lie about this. “Unless we find a better reason for why you can see what you shouldn't, or unless we Recognize each other, there's no saying for sure."
"If you're telling the truth, why are you trying to bail?"
"Because I don't believe in fairy tales." Suddenly I'm glad for not having enhanced senses and not being able to see his face clearly in the darkness. "Look, Wynn, I'm grateful for this, truly. I'm even braving my allergy to genuine emotion and telling you that I'm grateful without rolling my eyes or saying 'JK LOL,' but... I'm not that guy."
"What guy is that?"
