“I said no.”
She reaches across the console and closes her fingers around my wrist, her cold hand on my warm skin.
“If I walk into that ER with a claw wound, they will ask questions I cannot answer. Some doctor will write ‘animal attack’ on a chart that ends up in a system, and within hours, a bored intern is asking why an animal attack happened inside an arena.”
My knuckles tighten on the wheel.
I turn my head to look at her with my jaw set, and she murmurs, “Take me home, Grayson.”
I take the next exit instead of the one to the hospital. She lets go of my wrist.
In the back seat, Ethan is silent. He hasn’t said a word since I picked him up. Miranda turns in her seat. Her hand reaches back between the seats and finds his.
“Hey, buddy. We’ll get ice cream when we get home, okay? Vanilla, two scoops each.”
He nods at her, though there’s no smile from him.
Children are resilient,but seeing someone they love get hurt leaves a mark. It takes me hours to get him asleep. For the first time, he seems to want me instead of Miranda. It is full dark by the time I come back downstairs after putting him to bed.
The kitchen is empty. Miranda’s tea mug is in the sink with the bag still in it, and she didn’t finish drinking it.
The sliding door is open. I walk through and find her in one of the patio chairs. My flannel is pulled around her shoulders, a beer bottle resting on her knee. The mountain wind is cold tonight, and her breath fogs faintly when she exhales.
“How’s the arm holding up?”
“It’s holding.” She lifts it a few inches off the armrest. “I stitched the deeper one tighter once I had better light.”
“How are you so calm about this?”
A small laugh comes out of her, tired and low. “Do I look calm to you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not. I am freaking out inside, Grayson. I am having an entire breakdown behind my face.” She rolls the bottle between her palms. “But I’m not surprised. A part of me always knew you weren’t human. I’ve known since the night you walked into my ER with a wound that should have been pouring and wasn’t.”
She is watching me back, her face tired but lovely and steady. There’s no fear in her eyes.
“You want to know what I am.”
She nods slowly. “Yes. I could look the other way before. But not now.”
I rest my forearms on my knees. “Will it change anything between us once you see my other form?”
“Form?” She blinks.
I nod.
A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth after a moment. “It probably won’t. I’m sure you’ll be annoying in whatever form you take.”
A laugh shakes out of me before I can catch it, and my head drops between my shoulders.
When I lift it again, she is still smiling at me, and something inside my chest pulls hard at the sight. That only ever happens with her.
I slide off the chair and crouch in front of her. My hand goes to the armrest, framing her in. She doesn’t lean back.
“What if I told you I turn into a grotesque monster?”
She tilts her head, her eyes warm. “Then I am going to have to ask where you get all that ego from.”
