“But you think it,” she hissed, “how could you not?”
“Dani,” he said, voice full of warning.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, “I get it. Growing up, I was always exactly what you wanted me to be. And I don’t fit into that box anymore. I’ve come back as exactly what youhate.”
He snarled.
“Just anotherdangerouswitch withdangerousmagic that threatens everything you hold dear!”
“Dani-”
“Come on, out with it!”
“Dani!”
“How can I believe you accept me when you react to my magic like it’s a gun pointed at your head?”
He flared, “It feels like one.”
Silence hit, sharp and sudden.
He seemed to hear himself at the same time she did. Guilt flickered across his face, quick as lightning.
“I didn’t mean—” he began.
“Yes,” she said. “You did. That’s the point.”
Her eyes burned. She refused to blink.
“Edith warned me,” she said, more to herself than him, “she said one pretty speech doesn’t undo a lifetime of what you’d been taught . That you could want me and still hate the fire. I knew she was right. I did. I just…” she swallowed, “I wanted her to be wrong.”
His shoulders hunched, his big body suddenly looking awkward in the narrow hallway. “I don’t hate you.”
“I know,” she said, “that’s the problem. It would be easier if you did. Then at least it all lines up.”
He stared at her, as if trying to fit those words into a world where nothing made sense.
“Dani,” he said. It came out rough, “I’m trying.”
“I saw that last night,” she said. Memories flashed, his weight over her, the stars above them, his voice shaking when he’d told her he was sorry, that he’d been a coward. The way he’d wrapped the blanket round her shoulders like she was the most precious thing on earth. “I believed you. I believed that you wantedallof this. Me. Auri. Even my magic.” She lifted her hand, looked at it, at the faint shimmer still under the skin. “Of course, it’s never that simple, is it?”
“You know what I was raised on,” he said, “you’ve heard the stories. I know what happens when witches lose control.”
“You also know what happens when wolves lose control,” she snapped, “ask any witch who lost family in your wars. That fear runs both ways, Arthur.”
“I know that,” he said, fierce, “I’m not pretending we’re blameless. I’m not—”
“But you still look at my fire and see just another potential threat to manage.”
“Because itisa threat,” he said, the word ripping out of him, “everything in this valley is a threat right now. Hybrids, vampires, Volnoye, all of it. I’m standing in the middle trying to keep everybody breathing. If I put a witch with more power than she can handle into that calculation and pretend it doesn’t scare me, I’m a liar and a bad alpha.”
It landed like a slap.
“A witch,” she repeated, “not your mate. Not the mother of your child. Just one more variable to juggle.”
His expression twisted. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said,” she said.
