I hate everyone in this building.
****
Itake the stairs tothe roof because the elevator feels too small for everything inside me.
The roof above The Gin Room is old brick, with iron railings, and planters—Ari insists they are a garden, even though half the plants look personally offended at being alive.The city stretches around us in glittering violence, windows lit like watchful eyes, traffic arteries glowing red and white, the night sky bruised purple over Brooklyn.
Briana stands near the railing wearing jeans, boots, and a black sweater that slips off one shoulder.Her hair is loose, pale strands catching in the wind.No collar.No velvet.No knife visible, though I know she has one.
She turns when the door closes behind me, and for a moment, neither of us speaks, but the city fills the silence.
“You came,” she says.
“You told me to.”
“I asked.”
“Yes.”I stop several feet away.“You asked.”
“Are you going to tell me?”she asks.
“Yes.”But the word doesn’t move anything forward.My tongue feels too thick.My chest is too tight.My beast paces, furious and terrified, and for once I don’t know where the animal ends, and the man begins.
Briana wraps her arms around herself, then drops them like she is angry at the habit.
“Knox.”I look at her.“I’m scared,” she says, “so if this is terrible, say it fast.”
That breaks something in me.“You are my mate.”
The words come out rough, raw, and far too simple for the damage they can do.
Briana goes still as the wind lifts her hair around her face.Her eyes don’t widen.She doesn’t gasp, run, or ask what I mean.She looks at me, absorbing the words the way she absorbs everything, with fear, suspicion, and a kind of brutal courage that makes breathing difficult.
“Your mate,” she says.
“Yes.”
“Like Ari and Malichai?Akasha and Korvin?”
“Yes.No.”I drag a hand over my jaw.“Similar.But it’s Different for Minotaurs.”
Her mouth tightens.“Explain.”
I force myself not to move closer.“True mates are rare for my kind.Most of us never find one.When we do, the beast knows before the man has time to think.It’s not gentle.It’s not subtle.It’s...”I search for words that don’t sound like a chain.“Recognition.Hunger.Devotion.Madness if we let it become that.”
Her face pales slightly, and I hate myself.
“So when did you know?”she asks.
I close my eyes for one second before I give her the truth.“The night they brought you in.”
She inhales, Nothing else, just that.A small sound, but it’s enough to make the beast whine.
“You were unconscious,” I say quickly.“Akasha carried you.You were bleeding.I saw you, and my beast knew.I left before you woke up because I didn’t trust myself to stay away from you.”
“Stay away from me,” she repeats.
“Yes.”
